‘My father rarely comes up, and when he does, he stays at the house in Upper Wimpole Street that he shares with Uncle Horace, who does the same with his family when they visit. My married brothers, Charles and Marcus, live in Buckinghamshire too and Bertram, he is the one immediately before me, is betrothed and lives with our father at present. All of them would use the Upper Wimpole Street house when in Town. And Uncle Frederick, of course,
lives in his college in Cambridge and rarely stirs from there.’
‘They wouldn’t expect to stay with Lord Tillingham, then?’
‘If Mama and Papa, or Aunt Harriet and Uncle Horace come up to Town for more than a few days, then I would expect Cousin Henry to put them up. He rather enjoys… enjoyed, being head of the family, you know.’
‘Gathering the clan about him?’
‘Exactly.’ Adrien flashed me a smile. ‘He could be rather ponderous that way.’
Lady Radcliffe rang for service and the soup bowls were cleared and a fricassee, some poached fish and a dish of collops of veal set out on the table, along with the accompanying sauces and vegetables.
I always had to spend extra time running, or down at the police station dojo, to work off the effects of Georgian cuisine. Goodness knows why everyone wasn’t enormous.
It was nice being here with the family, but I rather missed the evenings in Albany when I had taught Garrick some twenty first century recipes and Luc and James had mucked in preparing veg and stirring pots and we’d eaten with elbows on the kitchen table swapping ideas, sharing thoughts about the current problem.
* * *
I said the same thing to Luc as I followed him upstairs at the end of the evening. Garrick and Carola had gone to their apartment an hour ago, Adrien had returned to Lord Tillingham’s house in the hope his presence might keep the servants calmer and I was longing for my bed. Travelling through time takes a great deal of energy and I couldn’t believe so much had happened since I had landed in James’s arms on the terrace that morning.
Luc turned aside to go to the boys’ room and I watched from the doorway as he bent to kiss each tousled head. It hurt to see the twins, to know that Luc and I were never going to share children. I knew the boys liked me and I played and talked with them, but I always kept a certain distance – a friend of the family, not an honorary aunt. The feminine influence in their lives was their grandmother and, however much I coveted them, I knew I had to stay remote.
Luc wanted us to marry, but he had accepted that I could not be a countess on a part-time basis, or leave my family and my own time for ever. Nor could I see how his new-found ability to join me made any difference. He couldn’t move times either.
He raised an eyebrow when he turned and I found a smile. He understood how I felt and we had tacitly agreed not to discuss it. I told myself that many couples were forced apart for long periods by their work and that this was no different.
‘I’m tired,’ I confessed. ‘Come to bed.’
‘Yours?’
I nodded, yawning. Luc, far more of an early bird than I am, could be the one to get up at crack of dawn, safely before the scullery maid crept out of her bed to stoke up the kitchen range and the household began to stir. Lady Radcliffe might know perfectly well what our relationship was, but it would have been ill-mannered to flaunt it in front of the staff.
We fell into the depth of the feather bed, fought our way through its billows and hollows into each other’s arms and dropped off to sleep almost immediately. If I dreamt of dead viscounts, I do not remember.
* * *
Luc, Garrick and I gathered in the study after breakfast to study the evidence boards. James and Kit had gone to the City with a long list of tasks for his godfather involving the bank and his legal advisors. Kit was muttering about new boots and Carola, a herbalist, was mixing herself potions against morning sickness.
We added Madame Vaillant to the suspects, then sat back and stared at the results.
‘Things to do?’ Garrick said after five minutes of unproductive silence. He pulled a fresh sheet of paper towards him.
‘Interview Madame V,’ I said.
‘Search Tillingham’s house before Adrien’s father returns.’ Luc glanced at the clock. ‘I should have thought about it earlier, but there might be any number of threatening letters or other relevant material.’
‘Adrien has had every opportunity to find and destroy evidence,’ Garrick grumbled. ‘We should have done it last night.’
‘I am certain he is innocent,’ I protested. ‘But the same goes for the staff. Should we go now?’
‘Yes.’ Luc got to his feet. ‘We can look for a weapon as well although, until we hear the results of the post mortem examination, we will not know precisely what it is.’
The words search warrant almost left my lips, then I told myself that this was 1807. If we didn’t search, then who would? If we found anything we would bring it to the attention of the authorities, of course. Possibly… Probably.
We locked up the study and went the few yards to the Tillingham house without bothering to put on hats or coats. Shocking behaviour for a lady, of course, being out on the street hatless. I felt thoroughly wanton.
Adrien was eating his breakfast in solitary splendour in the dining room, and seemed surprised to see us so early. He looked even more surprised when Luc told him bluntly that the house should be searched and poured himself a cup of coffee while he thought about it.