has always impressed me about you, Mrs. Reynold-Plympton, is that you have forged for yourself real political power. I can’t think of another lady of my acquaintance who’s managed to do such a thing. It’s common knowledge that Lord Fortescue depended on your advice.”
“An astute observation.” She pulled her shoulders back just a bit and sat taller in her chair.
“And one that should be shared by gentlemen in the government.” I was gambling. Was she sensitive to the fact that the majority of men would have dismissed her expertise?
“Hmpf.” She whipped off her spectacles with a flourish. “We ladies are forced to operate entirely behind the scenes—and that’s unlikely to change in my lifetime.”
“I have…” I paused, smiled, and wrung my hands, hoping that I looked like someone in search of a mentor. “I’ve taken some steps to assist my fiancé in his work. I confess that you’ve been my inspiration. I know I’m an absolute novice, but perhaps someday you and I could combine forces.”
“Are you trying to manipulate me?” she asked.
“No, of course not.”
“Of course you are.” She studied me for a moment and then laughed again. It sounded like music. “I may have just begun to like you, Lady Ashton. It’s possible you would make a useful ally.”
“Will you tell me his name?” I asked.
“James Hamilton. He works in the office of the chancellor of the exchequer and is very likely to be prime minister one day.”
“Thank you.”
“I’m hoping that you’re a more dependable confederate than the typical gentleman. I don’t like being disappointed.”
“You’ve no cause for worry on that count,” I said. “I’m at your disposal should you require my assistance.”
“Of course you are.” She returned her spectacles to her face. “You owe me. I won’t forget that.”
“Can I beg one more favor?” I asked.
“You can beg anything you’d like,” she said.
I told her, as succinctly as possible, about Mr. Harrison’s threats towards Colin. “Lord Fortescue was able to keep him in check. Can you do the same? You don’t have to tell me how, just please, please stop him.”
She shook her head, her eyes lowered. “He never showed me what he had on Harrison. It was too sensitive even for my eyes. I’m sorry. You’ll have to hope your fiancé is capable of avoiding the worst. I know Harrison’s methods well enough to be afraid for you.”
“I never suspected you ladies of being so debauched,” Jeremy said. “Drinking port in the middle of the afternoon? Hedonistic.”
Margaret and I had returned from Windsor, and we were all in my library at Berkeley Square. Davis had decanted a port for us, and I’d insisted that he returned Philip’s cigars to the room so Margaret could smoke them. He did this not so much because I ordered him to, but because Odette was back in the house. It could never be said that Davis was giddy, but there was an extra crispness in his efficiency today, and I had no doubt what emotion was fueling it.
“It’s never too early for port,” Margaret said.
“You must tell us what you learned in Windsor,” Ivy said. “I can’t say that I’m much fond of Mrs. Reynold- Plympton.”
“Well, I certainly don’t trust her,” Margaret said.
“Nor do I,” I said. “I can’t help but wonder whether Lord Fortescue ever disappointed her. He was quite devoted to her for years and years.”
“And what did his wife think of this?” Cécile asked.
“Which one?” Margaret asked, choosing a cigar from the box. “Not that it matters. I don’t think any of their feelings much concerned him.”
“He wouldn’t have cared, but regardless, she—his second wife, that is—never seemed to mind it in the least,” I said. “After all, the more time he spent with his mistress, the less his wife had to deal with him. As I remember it, theirs was a marriage completely devoid of emotion.”
“A happily matched couple, then?” Margaret asked.
“Apparently.” I held up my glass towards the fire. The tawny liquid glowed in front of it.
“I never would have guessed ladies could be so cynical,” Jeremy said, lighting a cigar. “I’m astonished. I feel like I’m in possession of an invaluable secret.”
“You are,” Margaret said. “And if you ever disclose it, we’ll murder you.”
“What of Fortescue’s current wife?” Cécile asked.
“Widow. I don’t know her well at all, but she seemed content enough,” I said.
“They’d been married less than a year,” Ivy said. “Certainly she’s grateful to have been returned to her family’s estate, but beyond that, I’ve no idea what her feelings are.” There was no hint of her usual rosy hue left in my friend’s complexion. “I did think it was odd, though, that Mrs. Reynold-Plympton was not at the party. Lord Fortescue always used to make a point of insisting on her presence. Would refuse invitations if she weren’t invited.”
“He was clearly carrying on with Flora Clavell at Beaumont Towers,” I said. “I wonder if Mrs. Reynold- Plympton knows what was going on between them?”
“Oh, I can’t imagine!” Ivy said.
“Of course she knew,” Margaret said. “She would have made it her business to.”
“Margaret is right,” Cécile said.
“You don’t think she was involved in the murder?” Ivy asked.
“She was at the party at Highwater with me,” Jeremy said. “She could have come to Beaumont Towers as easily as I did.”
“I can’t believe she would have harmed him,” Ivy said. “Despite their…immorality…she loved him.”
“Ivy, you are too good,” I said, glancing up at the clock. “I’m off to the Treasury to see Mr. Hamilton.”
“Want me to come with you?” Jeremy asked. “I rather miss skulking about with you on nefarious errands.”
“And I very much enjoyed having you with me, my dear, but it won’t be necessary today,” I said. “Perhaps another time.”
Ivy snapped to attention. “Hamilton! Of course. That’s why it seemed familiar. Isn’t his mother Mr. Reynold- Plympton’s mistress?”
“I thought he was ancient,” Margaret said.
“He is. But you’re right, Ivy. My mother told me that they were childhood sweethearts and weren’t allowed to marry,” I said. “She’s been taking care of him in his old age.”
“Rather sweet, really,” Ivy said. Margaret rolled her eyes.
“Does it matter?” Cécile asked. “Apart from Monsieur Reynold-Plympton being pleased that someone’s tending to his needs as he reaches the age of infirmity? I don’t see how any of it’s relevant to Lord Fortescue’s murder.”
“Perhaps it’s not. Mrs. Reynold-Plympton was awfully quick to give up his name despite her initial refusal,” I said.
“And here I thought it was simply a matter of you cleverly convincing her to trust you,” Margaret said. “I’m crushed.”
“I wasn’t even there, and I’m devastated,” Jeremy said.
“You know I adore your confidence.” I finished my port. “But she set it up beautifully, didn’t she? Made us think that she was telling us something valuable.”
“So you think Hamilton is useless?” Margaret asked.
“I think Mrs. Reynold-Plympton is as capable as anyone of overlooking a significant detail.”
Chapter 23
