The Spider's Touch (42 page)

Disturbed by her gasp, the gentleman she had nearly accosted looked up from his prayers and gave her a scowl. She hastily stepped backwards, whispering a string of apologies for having disturbed him.

She would have sat down in the row in front of St. Mars, if he had not beckoned her to sit beside him instead. She moved to the end of her row, where he met her then waited politely for her to be seated before joining her in the pew.

“I thought you said the second row from the back,” he teased her, speaking in a low voice, which sent a thrill down her spine. He had leaned closer to speak into her ear, and their elbows touched. As nervous as this made her feel, she realized how much more noticeable they would have been if she had whispered to him over her shoulder.

“I said somewhere near the back. But I’m glad to find you so quickly, my lord.”

“And before you joined in that gentleman’s prayers. I think he would have been rather astonished if you had.”

“Fie! As if I would ever do anything so disreputable!”

“My pardon, Mrs. Kean. I had thought there was nothing you would not undertake in the cause of justice.”

“Instead of teasing me, my lord,” Hester said, trying hard not to laugh, “perhaps you would be so kind as to tell me what you’ve discovered.”

Their whispers mingled with the other noises in the church, the booming echo of the heavy doors, an occasional cough, and even giggles from some of the tourists visiting the royal tombs.

St. Mars gave an exaggerated sigh. “If you truly insist on being serious, I shall be forced to tell you that I haven’t discovered very much. I found George Menzies, or rather Tom did, just before he left for France. We followed him and asked some questions, but he had very little to add that I had not already got from Colonel Potter. However, he did confirm that your cousin Dudley went downstairs in pursuit of a harlot.”

“Did he say why he left so suddenly?”

“Yes, he saw someone who is likely one of Walpole’s spies in France. He was afraid of being exposed.”

“Do you think he was telling the truth?”

This time, St. Mars’s sigh was genuine. “I hate to say it, but I believe he was. He insists that Sir Humphrey was completely unaware of the Jacobites’ intention to bring Harrowby over to their cause. They used him to gain an introduction to Hawkhurst House, but would never have entrusted him with their plan.”

“But what if he uncovered it somehow? Would Colonel Potter have killed him to keep him from telling Harrowby? Once he lost his commission, he seemed almost desperate to secure a post.”

“Menzies seems to think that Sir Humphrey was incapable of reasoning anything out for himself. But what do you believe? Do you think he could have done it? And, if he did, would he really have told Harrowby?”

Hester felt frustrated. “I don’t know. He was incapable of keeping a secret, that is true. But whether he could have uncovered it himself, I cannot tell. The one thing that makes me believe he did is what his sister said, that something had been troubling him of late.”

They paused, while the gentleman Hester had disturbed, rose from his knees and walked past them. He gave them a glance that condemned whatever they were doing. Hester bobbed her head guiltily, but St. Mars seemed not even to notice.

“If Sir Humphrey was a Jacobite, why should he have been troubled by the notion that his dear friend Harrowby might be persuaded to help James?” he asked.

Hester could come up with no reasonable answer, so instead, she told him of her theory, that the murderer had used Dudley’s history of violence to implicate him.

While explaining her reasons, she did not tell St. Mars that she had discussed these first with Lord Lovett. The memory of that gentleman’s kiss was very fresh in her mind, and she could not think of him without chagrin. She blamed herself for allowing him to know how much she enjoyed his wit, when she knew perfectly well that he was a libertine. She had as much as invited him to take that liberty with her. She had wanted him to find her attractive. The respect that he had shown her had given her a better opinion of her allure, and she had been weak enough to want proof of his admiration.

But his kiss had surprised her. Worse, it had disappointed her. She had always expected to be thrilled by her first real kiss from a gentleman, but no sooner had she dealt with the shock of it, than she had realized that surprise was the only emotion he had aroused. She had not felt the thrill she would like to have felt.

She had met only one man who could make her pulses race, and he could do it just by being near.

St. Mars sat very still while she elaborated her theory. Coming to the end, she was conscious of how close they were sitting. His body warmed her side, when the other was chilled. Certain that her voice would begin to waver or even grow hoarse if she did not use it for something very practical, she asked, “Do you think I am being fanciful, my lord?”

“No, I find you as clear-headed as ever, Mrs. Kean. It is highly plausible that the murderer arranged for a harlot to keep your cousin busy so he would return late to the box. And he could have made Mayfield spill his drink quite easily. The only question is, what can we do to prove this theory?”

“I wondered if the woman might not be found. She could tell us who paid her to distract Dudley.”

St. Mars did not sound amused when he said, “I hope you are not suggesting yourself for this task.”

“No. And I am persuaded that it would be fruitless, for the woman could be paid to lie as well. I had another thought, though.”

“You want me to visit every brothel in London, and ask every whore if she engaged in a certain tasteless act with Mr. Dudley Mayfield?”

“Of course, not!”

He feigned a sigh. “Well, I am relieved to hear it. I doubt that such a mission could be accomplished in the years that I have left. What is this other idea of yours, then?”

“It would serve you right if I refused to tell you! And I should, if it were not that I cannot handle this myself.

“At the inquest,” Hester continued in a dampening tone, “I was almost certain that Colonel Potter was lying when he said that he did not see Dudley spill the wine on his coat. When the Lord Chief Justice asked him about it, he hesitated, as if he had to decide whether or not to tell the truth.”

“You think he saw the person who caused the spill and was trying to leave them out of the trouble?”

“Either that or, perhaps, he caused it himself.”

“Hmm.” He sounded doubtful, but then he sighed. “Well, I suppose the only way to get the answer is to ask him.”

“But how can I? I never see him.”

“Not you, my dear Mrs. Kean! You cannot think I meant for you to accost him—during his prayers or otherwise. You can leave Colonel Potter to me.”

“But how will you get him to tell you?”

“By holding a sword to his throat. It worked remarkably well before.”

Hester choked on her shocked gasp of laughter. “I should think it would. You will be sure to be careful, won’t you, my lord?”

“I shouldn’t dream of allowing myself to be hurt. But—” And here, a note of curiosity entered his voice— “Mrs. Kean, why have you not said anything about Sir Humphrey’s other guest, Lord Lovett?”

An unpleasant warmth invaded Hester’s neck and face. She had not prepared herself for his question. “I suppose that’s because I don’t have anything of importance to say.”

In the darkness of the abbey, St. Mars leaned forward to peer into her eyes, and Hester was grateful for the poor illumination that hid her blush.

After an uncomfortable pause, he said, “I do not see why Lord Lovett should be exempt from any suspicion.”

Again, there was that curious note in his voice, along with another, which was cooler. It made her feel as if a wall had come between them.

“There is no reason,” she said, “although I will admit that I find it harder to see Lord Lovett in the role of murderer than the other gentlemen involved.”

“Even your cousin?”

Hester gave a start, then reflected before she said, “Yes, I am afraid that is so. Sir Humphrey was a near friend of Lord Lovett’s. He was most distressed by Sir Humphrey’s death.”

“Yet, if Sir Humphrey did become aware of Lovett’s and Potter’s plans, his knowledge would have been of equal danger to both.”

Hester took a deep breath. “Yes, of course.”

“Then, what can you tell me about Lord Lovett’s movements? Could it be possible that the two men contrived Sir Humphrey’s death together?”

Hester drew in a quick breath. “They did return to the box together.” Her mind struggled with this distasteful notion. “But that could exonerate them as easily as prove their guilt.”

“True. Why don’t we go over what we know? Menzies said he saw Lovett, standing outside the curtain of the ladies’ withdrawing area. That would have been before Dudley made his way down the stairs.”

“He was waiting for Isabella. He escorted her from the box.”

“Then, why did he not return with her?”

Hester tried to remember. “At the inquest, I believe he said something about stepping away to speak to a friend. Both he and Colonel Porter testified that they met up with each other just before returning to the box.”

St. Mars leaned back and stretched one arm along the back of the pew. He seemed to study her profile. “Then, Lovett would appear to have some time unaccounted for.”

“They all do. We only have their statements that they were engaged with something else at the moment of the murder. That is why it is so hard to prove anything.”

“Lovett could have waited outside the withdrawing area until your cousin Dudley disappeared down the stairs. Then, he could have found Sir Humphrey and slipped behind the curtain where he was standing, waiting for a chance to stab him through it.”

The scenario he painted made Hester very uneasy. It was possible. But the thought that she might have been kissed by a murderer was too terrible to contemplate.

“Colonel Potter would have had the same length of time. I still should prefer to believe it was he.”

St. Mars was rigidly silent. “Should you?” He hesitated, then asked, “May I inquire why?”

Hester groped for a logical reason she could give. “Lord Lovett behaved very well after the murder. He took care of everything, even though he was quite upset by the loss of his friend. And, since then, he has tried to be helpful, even giving me counsel about Dudley, when I think he truly believes that Dudley is guilty.”

“What sort of counsel has he given you?”

She found herself unable to be specific. “I cannot recall any one piece,” she said. “But he is the only person who seems to care whether Sir Humphrey’s murderer is caught, except Dudley, of course, who only wants to be acquitted. I did mention to his lordship the possibility that Dudley’s harlot might be found, but he pointed out how untrustworthy such a witness would be. You would not disagree with that, yourself, I’m persuaded,” she added defensively.

“No. But just because Lovett has a good reason for discouraging a particular line of inquiry does not rule out other motives for doing so.”

St. Mars was right, Hester had to acknowledge. But if Lord Lovett were the murderer, why would he continue to discuss it with her when it appeared that no proof would ever be found?

She posed this question to St. Mars, but his answer made her even more unhappy. “Perhaps he simply wants an excuse to be with you.”

Hester denied it, but her voice lacked conviction enough to convince St. Mars. He seemed almost to retreat from her, but all he said was, “I shall try to corner Colonel Potter again and find out who spilled the wine on Mayfield’s clothes. If he can tell us, we’ll have a better idea of what to pursue next.”

Hester agreed with him, and secretly resolved to be impartial where Lord Lovett was concerned. She might even ask him whom he had spoken to during the critical portion of the interval.

There was no more to discuss at the moment. Before they stood to go, St. Mars asked her if he could send Katy again as a messenger soon without arousing anyone’s suspicions.

“I suppose I can tell Rufus to fetch me if she comes again. I can tell him that my aunt was delighted with the quality of her strawberries. That should be reason enough. Since my aunt would never speak with any servant long enough for the subject to arise, she will never have an occasion to deny it.”

“Then, as soon as I have anything to tell you, I’ll send her again.” He paused. “I hope there was nothing about her that offended you?”

“No, not at all! I found her very obliging. A little shy at first, perhaps, but as soon as she got over being afraid of me, she became quite cheerful. Why do you ask?”

St. Mars seemed to ponder this, before replying, “It occurred to me that she was troubled by something last night, and I wanted to be sure it had nothing to do with the errand. But I have the feeling that it had to do with Tom, who escorted her back.” He grimaced. “I shall probably have to speak to him. You would think that an outlaw would be free of domestic problems, wouldn’t you? And yet, here I am, with only two servants, and I have to concern myself with their problems. I never had this trouble at Rotherham Abbey.”

Hester could not completely stifle her laugh. “You will have to engage a housekeeper to protect you.”

“That’s what I thought Katy was! Now do I have to hire a dueña for my housekeeper?”

Hester felt better that he could speak of Katy with such detachment. She had tried to tell herself that she had no right to be distressed by how pretty his servant was, but the truth was that it had taken a good bit of her self-respect to hide her jealousy from the woman, though Katy’s timidity had helped her overcome such unworthy feelings.

As they stood to part, she remembered the news she had meant to tell him. She put a hand on his sleeve and he turned.

“Pardon me, my lord, I almost forgot—I do not know if you have heard the news, but Lord Oxford was taken to the Tower by the Usher of the Black Rod.”

She heard his sharp intake of breath.

St. Mars looked extremely grim. She had scarcely ever seen his features look so harsh. “If they’ve taken Oxford,” he said, “then Ormonde will be next. I feared it would come to this, but Ormonde did not believe that they would dare. Walpole must have more support than he gave him credit for.”