My nails were biting into the palm of my hand and the pain pulled me back. Lady Radcliffe reached for the bell rope at her side and a large, motherly-looking woman came in.
‘You’re upset,’ the woman said. ‘Come along and lie down, dear.’ Her voice was kind, but I wouldn’t have wanted to argue with her. One of the men from the closet opposite came out, apparently unarmed, and followed them as Annabelle went meekly with the woman.
‘One of the matrons from a charity hospital I support,’ Sir William said as we stood up and made our way out of concealment. ‘She is used to managing violent or distressed patients. That is a very tragic case.’
‘It is possible,’ the lawyer said, ‘that it was self-defence. Talbot might have turned on her when he heard his lover was dead.’
‘No. Nothing points that way.’
‘Miss Lawrence, do you think that young woman should hang? Or be confined to Bedlam for what is left of her life?’
No, of course I didn’t. She needs psychiatric help and she isn’t going to get it, I thought. ‘But what is the alternative?’
‘Private secure care for the rest of her life. Her father can afford it,’ Sir William said, his face grim.
Another life ruined. Then I gave myself a mental shake. We couldn’t simply let her go – what about the next person who upset her when she was within reach of a blunt instrument? Annabelle might never hurt anyone again, but could we risk it? This was 1807 and somehow we had to work out what was best with what was possible.
And meanwhile James’s mother was sitting on the far side of the tea table, white and still after hearing the ghastly details of his friends’ deaths. I pulled up a chair, sat next to her and put an arm around her shoulders. ‘Are you all right? You did so well, getting the truth without upsetting her any more than was necessary.’
‘So much hate,’ she murmured.
‘It will get better one day,’ I promised, forgetting she did not know when I came from.
Something in my voice, the certainty perhaps, reached her and she turned to stare at me. ‘Who are you, Cassandra? What are you?’
I couldn’t answer her and, thank goodness, Garrick came in with a fresh pot of tea and some cakes. ‘Sugar,’ I said, putting two on a plate and handing them to her before I poured the tea. ‘Good for shock.’
‘I have sent the message,’ Garrick said. ‘I think we’ve half an hour to reset the room.’
Half an hour for James and Luc, along with the Count de Hautmont and Mr Salmond, to bring Sir Thomas and Elliott.
‘Will they come?’ I asked.
‘They’ll come,’ Sir William said. He reached for a cake and devoured it. ‘That or run.’
We finished the tea quickly then Chloe came in and took Lady Radcliffe off to her own sitting room. There was no need for her to hear any more of this, not in the raw, at least.
‘Lord Radcliffe’s carriage is approaching
, Mr Garrick.’ The butler appeared and took the tea tray as we moved the chairs. ‘There appears to be another vehicle with it. I will fetch the decanters.’
Now the room had six armchairs set around the table with the decanters and glasses. We all went into our closets and waited.
The red-headed clerk had no sooner settled into place when the door opened and I heard Sir Thomas’s voice. ‘I hope you intend to explain what you are about, asking my nephew and myself to come here, Radcliffe.’
‘Certainly.’ That was Luc, entering. ‘Do take a seat, this shouldn’t take long.’
The three sat, Luc gestured to the decanters. ‘A drink?’
‘Brandy – What the devil?’ Reece had sat down but he came back to his feet as Mr Salmond, the Count and James walked in.
‘Please, do sit, Sir Thomas. We all know each other, after all.’
‘What’s going on?’ That was Elliott, on his feet as his uncle sat. ‘I’m not staying here for whatever this is!’
‘Sit,’ Luc said in a voice I had never heard him use before and the young man subsided. ‘Now, if you will just give me a moment.’ He unfolded a sheet of paper he had brought in with him, read it, folded it and slid it into the breast of his coat. ‘Very well. We are here because you, Elliott Reece, have been a young idiot and embroiled yourself with revolutionary elements, most of whom are harmless air dreamers like yourself, but some of whom are dangerous enemies of this country. Sit down.
‘Your uncle extracted you from your associates but he suspected that someone else knew, someone in the Home Office. Someone, in fact, on Mr Salmond’s team. And so he found a weak link, a young man vulnerable to threats, and he blackmailed him, compromised him, put him under pressure to discover who knew what about you and your activities.’