The list of details in his coat pocket, Jack descended the stairs beside Clarice. The patter of Olsen’s footsteps died away behind them. Jack grinned. “Olsen’s instincts appear sound.”
Clarice shot him a glance, haughtily censorious. She knew to what he referred—Olsen’s reaction to her. “Nonsense.” She looked ahead. “All that shows is that he can recognize well enough what’s good for him.”
Jack laughed.
They crossed the huge front foyer, nodded to the doorman, and went out through the massive front doors. Sunshine and brightness greeted them; Jack squinted. Clarice glanced at him. “Are you all right?”
He paused to take stock, then smiled. “The effects of your ministrations appear to last for some time.”
She humphed and started down the steps. “Good.”
They strolled down the drive, neither fast nor slow, both, Jack would wager, considering that perennial question: what next? The drive curved toward the gates; a high hedge hid the last yards of one side of the drive from the palace. At that spot, in the lee of the hedge, a figure in clerical garb stood waiting.
As they drew near, his eager expression and a marked resemblance to Anthony suggested who the man was. Clarice confirmed it. “Teddy.”
“Clarice.” Teddy grinned engagingly as they joined him in the shade; he warmly clasped the hand Clarice gave him, drawing her close to kiss her cheek. “I can’t tell you how delighted and relieved I am to see you.”
“This is Lord Warnefleet.” Stepping back, Clarice waited while they shook hands, then asked, “You have heard about Anthony?”
Teddy sobered. “Indeed. Thank you for your letter. Anthony wrote as well. I had started to wonder, but then thought, perhaps, scamp that he is, he’d delivered my message and then gone on to some house party somewhere.”
“No party,” Jack murmured. “He was lucky to come out of the accident so well.”
“Oh?” Teddy looked at Clarice.
She nodded. “But when we left him, he was well on the road to recovery. He’ll be back in London soon enough.”
Teddy accepted her reassurance but still looked concerned. “About James.” He looked from Clarice to Jack.
“We’ve spoken with the bishop and been granted the confidence of the court. We’ve just been with Olsen—he’s given us details of the allegations, or rather, of the allegations that aren’t conjecture.” Jack studied Teddy; he looked about thirty years old, sensible and steady. “What can you tell us about Deacon Humphries? We know about the fellowship he lost to James.”
Teddy grimaced. “Humphries is now the most senior deacon under the bishop, which is why he’s been able to push these charges to the extent he has. Apparently he always was jealous of James, even before that old fellowship was awarded, and ever since, he’s…well, one-eyed in his dislike would be an understatement. Whenever James comes to London, the bishop and Dean Samuels do all they can to keep Humphries and James apart. Last time, they sent Humphries to visit the rural dean in Southampton on some trumped-up mission. In the five years I’ve been with the bishop, I’ve never heard Humphries say one good word about James.”
Jack frowned. “Leaving aside the present incident, has Humphries gone out of his way in the past to attack James?”
Teddy considered, then, frowning, shook his head. “No. Indeed normally Humphries goes out of his way to avoid any mention of James, any raising of James as a subject at all.”
“So”—Jack slid his hands into his pockets—“this is an unusual turn for Humphries, a change in his norm
al behavior toward James.”
“Yes.” Teddy looked at him, puzzled.
Jack grimaced. “My next questions would be, what happened to change Humphries’ behavior, why did whatever it was happen, and why now?”
Teddy stared, then blinked, his eyes slowly widening as he followed Jack’s deductions.
Clarice already had; she snorted softly. “The courier-cum-informer. It had to be he. He turned up with information, information that, even discounting Humphries’ animosity toward James, Humphries would have felt honor-bound to bring before the bishop.”
Jack nodded. “However, having done so, Humphries’ animosity toward James would have ensured he’d keep pressing the point, demanding the allegations be investigated.”
He and Clarice exchanged a glance, then they both looked at Teddy. “Do you have any idea who Humphries’ informer is?” Jack asked.
Wide-eyed, Teddy shook his head. “Until you mentioned him, I didn’t know he existed.”
Succinctly Clarice outlined what they’d learned from Olsen.
“While we can attack the details of the informer’s information, and we will, ultimately we’ll need to speak with the man himself, but as yet Humphries has refused to divulge his name.”