‘I have a new one, not that it is any of your business, Swinburn.’
‘And you and Northam were seen on Monday evening bundling a heavily veiled woman into a carriage at the Maid’s Head in Norwich. Do you deny that?’
‘No, I do not, although I fail to see why I have any obligation to account to you for my actions.’ Perry was beginning to sound heated now.
Theo decided it was time to take a hand before Perry forgot that he needed to act a part, not simply lose his temper with the invaders. ‘Not that it is any of your business, but we were doing a favour for an old friend, a most reputable Norwich lawyer who was being visited by the lady in question. His carriage was out of commission that evening and the lady… Shall we say it was necessary to deliver her as discreetly as possible?’
‘Who is this mysterious friend? I doubt he even exists.’ Swinburn was becoming red in the face now.
‘I have no intention of telling you. However, I understand that this gentleman is the Chief Magistrate for the district? I have no objection to giving him the name in strict confidence.’ It would do Crow’s reputation no harm, Theo decided as he stepped forward and murmured, ‘Gerard Redfern,’ in Sir Alfred’s ear. ‘You are welcome to check with him whether we performed such a favour, sir,’ he added, raising his voice to normal levels again.
‘I’m sure that will not be necessary, my lord, the gentleman in question is well known to me. Sir Walter, I really believe that this veiled lady is merely a red herring, an error – ’
‘Where is your housekeeper?’ Sir Walter demanded, ignoring him.
‘I have no idea – ’
He broke off as the service door opened and a woman in Laura’s simple cotton gown, with a lace-trimmed apron over it and a cap on her head, stepped out into the hallway and curtseyed.
‘I do apologise, my lord,’ she said in a soft, somewhat husky voice. ‘I did not realise you had guests. Should I have refreshments sent to the drawing room?’
Theo was nearest, but even so it took him a moment to recognise his own valet. A white cap covered Pitkin’s head but revealed his irrepressible dark curls at the front, combed into a feminine style. A few strands of long hair had somehow been contrived to escape from the sides of the cap and Theo suspected the use of lamp-black on his lashes and some kind of rouge on his lips. There was certainly very effective padding in the bodice of his gown and possibly in his cheeks, rounding out his face.
The slight and delicate young man made a perfectly acceptable young woman, Theo thought – provided no-one got too close.
‘Who the devil is that?’ Sir Walter demanded.
‘I’ll thank you not to use bad language in front of my female staff, Sir Walter. This, of course, is Mrs Albright, my housekeeper. Thank you, Mrs Albright, but the gentlemen will not be staying.’
‘My lord, gentlemen.’ She – Pitkin – bobbed a curtsy and stepped back into the shadows.
‘Sir Walter, enough of this.’ Sir Alfred put a restraining hand on the other man’s arm. ‘It is clear you have been misled and are mistaken. For the sake of the record, Lord Manners, Lord Northam, I must ask you, do you know where Miss Darke is?’
‘Upon my honour, I do not know where Miss Darke is,’ Perry said.
And neither do I, Theo realised. She could be in the house, in the grounds, the stables… ‘You also have my word of honour,’ Sir Alfred,’ he said. ‘I do not know the whereabouts of Miss Darke.’
‘I am not satisfied. I want a closer look at that housekeeper.’ Giles Swinburn pushed past Perry who swung round just as Theo stepped in front of them, barring Giles’s way to the kitchen.
‘Are you doubting my word?’ Theo snarled. If he started a fight it would give Laura longer to hide or escape.
Behind him, as he braced for the expected blow, the door opened and a slender, red-headed young man in the plain black of a gentleman’s gentleman stepped out. ‘Do forgive me, my lords, gentlemen.’ The soft voice with its hint of Ireland took them all by surprise.
‘Flynn?’ Theo said, staring.
The Duke of Calderbrook’s valet smiled faintly. ‘Yes, my lord. His Grace has asked me to accompany Viscount Ravenlaw as his own man is indisposed.’
‘Ravenlaw’s here?’ Perry said.
‘Indeed, my lord. In response to the letter of invitation, I bel
ieve. Do excuse me wandering in, but the door was ajar. I appear to have interrupted a reception.’
‘You have interrupted an ill-advised invasion,’ Perry snapped. ‘Mrs Albright, please retire before your ears are sullied with any more bad language.’
‘I did knock,’ a voice behind the Swinburns remarked, ‘but no-one appeared to hear me. Do excuse me, gentlemen.’
The other men parted immediately. Theo thought with a twinge of admiration that they always did for James Andrew Jared Forrest, Viscount Ravenlaw, son of the third Earl of Huntingford, otherwise known as Jared Hunt, swordmaster. Jared was wearing his usual severe black, his dark hair was tied back at his nape and a rapier hung at his side. Darkness has come to call.