‘Only too probable,’ Luc said heavily. He put one hand on his brother’s shoulder as James fought for some sort of composure.
‘But why were we attacked?’ I asked in an attempt to distract James from his friend’s torment.
‘That was Elliott, as Garrick deduced,’ Luc said. ‘His uncle must have told him how he was pressuring Coates and warned him George had killed himself before he had any answers. The fact that we are investigating the suicide and Talbot’s murder would have put the fear of God into Elliott who has no idea if we’ll find out about his illicit activities.
‘His revolutionary friends might have provided him with that cosh and he took the opportunity of being in Albany to use it. It didn’t stop me and then I turn up at the garden party and side with the Count. By that time Elliott must have suspected he had a dual role. He’d know that you, James and Garrick were involved in t
he investigation and probably had as much information as I did. Just killing me wasn’t going to save him.’
‘He was getting desperate and hired some professional help to pick us off,’ Garrick concluded. ‘The other day he could have got me and Miss Lawrence, which might have been enough to distract you long enough for them to deal with you and James. And he tried for James last night.’
We sat, surrounded by the beauty of Mozart’s soaring music, and contemplated treachery, stupidity and violence. It was depressing enough for me but for James, who had lost a good friend to this, and who was exposed to the danger of blackmail and worse every day, it must have been horrendous.
‘That all seems entirely logical. But who killed Talbot?’ I said. ‘Unless Elliott knew he and George were lovers and believed George would have told him everything, I don’t see how it fits in. And the attempts on us were at least semi-professional. Talbot’s murder seems… emotional. Personal.’
‘Perhaps we’re looking at it wrongly, like a pattern you can’t see in a puzzle-drawing because it is the wrong way up and a corner has been torn off as well,’ James said, his voice dreary. The music came to a crashing crescendo and stopped. ‘Hell, that’s the interval, I can’t cope with people coming to the box and expecting to chat and asking if I’ve been in a fight.’
We got back to Albany subdued and strangely depressed, given that we’d solved half of the puzzle. It was a token of how we were all feeling that when I asked for hot chocolate the men had it too and we ended up huddled around the fire in the drawing room that Garrick – mysteriously back to being himself simply by taking off his coat and waistcoat and running one hand through his hair – lit.
‘We’re still in danger until we can get Elliott off our backs,’ James said, spooning sugar into his mug.
‘We could confront Sir Thomas,’ Luc said, clearly thinking aloud. ‘He can rein in his nephew.’
‘But then we’re letting him off the hook for the blackmail. If we go to him about this he’ll also cover up for both of them and we have no proof,’ I pointed out. ‘All your family will still be in danger.’
‘We need proof and then we need de Hautmont’s support. He’ll know who to go to in the Home Office. The last thing we want is to approach someone who Reece has in his pocket.’
‘And we need to solve the murder,’ Garrick added. ‘If we do not, then we have a loose end that could make this entire thing unravel.’
I had that disconcerting sensation of a thread of an idea whisking through my mind and then away. It was almost like the sort of thing you see out of the corner of your eye at dusk – gone the moment you turn to confront it. ‘There was something someone said at the theatre,’ I murmured. ‘Something that gave me an idea. No, not even an idea, just… Oh, I don’t know. And I don’t know who said it or what it was now.’
‘Sleep on it,’ James said. ‘Speaking of which, I had better go back to St James’s Square before Mama starts to fret.’
The carriage is waiting,’ Garrick said. ‘And the lads are on the alert for trouble.’
‘So am I,’ James said grimly. He stood up, lifted his cane and slid a slender blade from it with a twist of his wrist. ‘It would be a pleasure to have either of the Reeces at the end of this.’
When he was gone Garrick vanished into the service area with the mugs. I crouched down to rake out the coals and put the screen round the fire and stayed on the hearth rug, leaning against Luc’s knee. ‘Why are we depressed? We’re getting somewhere at last.’
‘Because of what happened to Coates, I suppose. Because James is distressed.’
And has just discovered his own lover was not the man he believed him to be. ‘And because those two selfish bastards think they can use people like pawns for their own ends,’ I added.
‘Yes.’ Luc didn’t move.
He was wearing full evening dress with tight black knitted silk breeches, white silk stockings. I twisted round, unfastened the buckles at the nearest knee and rolled down the stocking.
‘What are you doing?’ He straightened up.
‘Undressing you.’ I slid his foot out of the shoe, peeled off the stocking and started to play with his toes.
‘You wouldn’t care to do it a little faster, would you?’ The flat note had gone from his voice. A quick glance showed that he was sitting up and taking notice in all areas.
‘No.’ I reached for the other buckle and found the feathers and diamond circlet plucked from my head. ‘That’s not going to make me any faster.’ There was a growl, so I disposed of the other shoe and stocking, came up on my knees between his thighs and started on his neck cloth.
Luc removed my earrings and began to work on the catch of the necklace which involved a great deal of caressing and tickling at the back of my neck. I managed – somehow – to remove the yard or so of starched muslin without impaling him on his sapphire stick-pin and tackled his waistcoat buttons.
‘Has anyone told you that you have a magnificently flat stomach?’ I asked as I slid the flat of one hand down the waistband of his breeches and tried to haul out his shirt.