‘He isn’t – ’ I began.
‘I have my – ’ de Hautmont cut across me. ‘I am sorry, please, Miss Lawrence.’
‘Thank you. His name did not come up when you were investigating the private lives of Coates and Talbot, did it?’ I asked James.
‘You think he was secretly attracted to men and that perhaps they found out and he silenced them? But why should Coates hang himself? And the murderer of Talbot, we agreed, was probably not the same as the person attacking us. And no, I have heard nothing to suggest he had the same… interests. I will ask though.’
‘He might have been blackmailing Coates,’ I suggested.
‘I would say that someone was,’ de Hautmont said. ‘That note suggests to me one of two possibilities. He had betrayed his lover with another man, and you have found no indication of that. Or he had been forced by blackmail to do something he could not live with and the only way to escape was by killing himself. I knew him. he was a serious and honourable young man and he was not skilled at lying. He spoke to me about intelligence work and I wonder now whether he was trying to find out whether I was involved in that, and, if I was, what I knew.’
‘Interesting. I imagine he was somewhat out of his depth with you,’ Luc said, smiling.
The Count inclined his head in acknowledgment of the compliment. ‘Indeed.’
‘Tell me,’ Luc said. ‘Who in the department knew that you were more than an interpreter?’
‘A good question. Officially Salmond, and he alone. He wanted to keep an eye on what the intelligence section upstairs was up to as well as to analyse our office’s work for anything that might have security implications. I have the feeling he does not quite trust Sir Thomas.’ The twist of his lips made me suspect that was an understatement.
‘So, if Coates was questioning you about intelligence then either he was asking people more or less at random or he knew or suspected your role.’
‘Indeed.’ de Hautmont gave me a sharp nod of acknowledgement. ‘And, if he suspected me, I doubt he worked it out for himself.’
‘So, are you a threat to either of the Reeces?’ Luc asked as there was a tap at the door which opened to reveal a footman.
‘Her ladyship thought you might care to take tea in the garden, my lord.’
‘Thank you, yes.’ Luc looked round the room. ‘We can continue this outside in the sunshine.’
He flipped the covers over the boards, then kept me back with a hand on my arm as the others went out. I could hear James asking anxiously about the amount of food to go with the tea.
‘Are you all right, Cassie? Truly?’
‘Yes, I am. I am too angry to be anything else. The poor coachman was injured, the street was crowded, there were children. Anyone might have been killed. The sheer arrogance of this is beginning to get to me.’
‘Stay angry then.’ Luc bent and kissed me and managed to kick the door closed at the same time which, for some reason, made me smile. And then I discovered that smiling against his lips was exceedingly enjoyable. I have no idea what might have happened if James hadn’t banged on the door.
‘Your brother knows us too well.’ I remembered to twitch my gown back into some kind of order and check my hair in the mirror before I did my best to straighten Luc’s neck cloth. ‘Come on, I want cake.’
A tea table and chairs had been set out in the middle of the lawn, well out of earshot of the house or the boundaries, unless we raised our voices. I glanced around and spotted the gamekeeper perched comfortably in a small tree that must have given him an excellent view of the back gate and the mews behind. He sat quite still on a branch, relaxed back against the trunk, his shotgun over his knees.
James had sent the footman away and was, to my amusement, dispensing tea rather than waiting for me to do it. The men had discovered that I didn’t take kindly to being told it was my job as a lady to preside over the refreshment table, so they reverted to bachelor manners in Luc’s rooms.
‘He knows I’ll only spill it,’ I said to de Hautmont, worried he might interpret tea-pouring as gay behaviour. ‘I am positively clumsy around a tea pot.’
‘So, the Reeces,’ I said once we had tea and plates of exceedingly dainty morsels.
The Count finished his fifth (Yes, I was counting) little savoury, flipped the crumbs away with a napkin and held out his cup for refilling. ‘Sir Thomas is a career politician, a party man through and through. I do not believe for a moment he would involve himself with the enemies of this country. Which is not to say I like the man. I have no illusions about just how ruthless he would be if someone got in his way. If there is something he would kill to hide then it would be to do with internal power struggles within government.
‘Elliott Reece is a reasonably intelligent young man spoiled by being allowed to believe he can have what he wants because he is his uncle’s heir. Would he do something stupid or treacherous? Possibly. I have no firm evidence of anything actionable. Some questionable friends… Nothing perhaps, yet if I were a cat, my whiskers would be twitching.’
‘When he discovered I was from the United States he started probing to see what my political sympathies were,’ I said, trying to recall exactly what Elliott had spouted. ‘I thought he was just showing off, pretending to be radical and edgy… er, exciting. When I said I did not approve of beheading vast numbers of people he started rambling on about the scope for men of talent to rise to the top according to ability and not aristocratic privilege.’
‘Did he indeed?’ The Count looked more than interested.
‘I thought he was trying to impress me – I have to admit, I didn’t take him very seriously. And he will inherit a title himself.’
‘A baronet’s title.’ The Count’s sneer made it sound like something one found in a Christmas cracker and from Luc’s nod it was clear he agreed. ‘That is interesting. It may be that he was simply trying to make himself interesting to a lovely lady, or it may be an indication of how his sympathies truly run. And young men who want to feel important can be snared by those more cunning than they are.’