“Regrettably, no.”
The compte’s expression turned earnest. “I must ask, how may I assist you? I wish to offer my services in any capacity you require. I was very fond of Angelique and was desolate when she died.”
“Thank you, monsieur. I will let you know if there is anything you can do.”
A slight pause followed. “And what of my dear Angelique’s ship that sank with so many poor souls on board?”
Quinn hesitated to mention the sole survivor of the wreck or the rumors that an explosion had caused the Zephyr to sink. For whatever reason, it felt wrong. Despite Montreux’s genial air, he was nearly a stranger, even though very distantly related and had known Angelique well enough to seek her hand in marriage.
“There is no news of any significance,” Quinn said easily just as Wilkins carried in the tea tray.
Quinn dismissed the butler and poured a glass of Madeira for the Frenchman before expounding. “I may institute a search for the wreckage of the ship this summer.”
“I see.” Montreux eyed his wineglass, then pulled out his handkerchief and wiped his brow. Another moment passed before he inquired after Quinn’s sister and cousins and uncle.
“You heard that my uncle Cornelius married last year?”
“Oui, I did.” Montreux offered a smile. “I have brought you a gift in remembrance of your mother…several bottles of my finest cognac, which was produced by my own vineyards. You simply must taste this special vintage as soon as may be. I do not believe I boast overmuch to say it is the nectar of the gods. The bottles are in my carriage. I will have them carried to your wine cellars by my driver.”
“That won’t be necessary. My servants will see to it.”
“S’il vous plaît, I insist on helping.”
“I would be honored to accept,” Quinn responded, “but you will understand why I prefer to have my own staff carry them inside.”
The look Montreux sent Quinn showed clearly that he preferred having his own way and didn’t enjoy being thwarted, doubtless a product of his aristocratic upbringing. Then Montreux gave a Gallic shrug. “But of course, it will be as you wish, my lord. Angelique would have enjoyed this gift. She was very fond of French cognac.” He glanced around the room. “It is sad to think she will never grace these halls again.”
A light rap sounded on the open door just then. “Forgive me, I did not mean to intrude,” Venetia said politely as she entered the drawing room.
Montreux was the first to respond. He rose instantly and strode forward to meet her. “A visit by a beautiful lady is never an intrusion.”
Venetia did not look taken aback as Quinn thought she might. Instead, she answered in kind. “You must be my husband’s charming cousin.”
Montreux smiled and demanded an introduction from Quinn, who complied.
“Enchanté, madame la comtesse,” the compte declared as he kissed her hand.
“Spoken like a true Frenchman,” she returned lightly.
“Oh, you know the manners of a true Frenchman?”
“I had the pleasure of spending the last two years in Paris.”
“Ahh.” The compte studied Venetia intently.
She turned to Quinn. “May I speak to you briefly in private, my dear?”
Before Quinn could reply, Montreux spoke again. “You may have his lordship to yourself. I was this moment preparing to take my leave.”
Quinn rang for Wilkins, and when the butler appeared, gave specific instructions to collect the bottles of cognac and show the compte out.
After Montreux had said his farewells and left, Quinn gave his attention to Venetia. “What did you wish to speak to me about?”
She must have seen him frowning, for she asked a different question than the one he expected. “Did you press the compte about the pendant and the shipwreck?”
“Yes. He says he has no knowledge of either. But his timing is curious. Why would he appear in London just now? And there is something odd about his manner.”
“Perhaps he is ill?” Venetia mused. “Did you notice the way he was perspiring? Also, his hand when he took mine was cold and clammy.”