grateful for that.'
I raised my brows. 'She said so?' I could not imagine Lady Breckenridge expressing such a tender thought.
'Of course not,' Lady Aline said. 'She does not need to. But I've known her since she was in leading strings. Her mother is a great friend of mine.'
'I am pleased she has such an ally in you. But you haven't answered my question. To whom did Lady Breckenridge speak this evening?'
Lady Aline gave me a smile. 'Not to Colonel Brandon and Imogene Harper. Donata spoke to me and to Lady Gillis-although she does not like Lady Gillis very much. She finds her too washed out and tiresome. She danced much, of course. She always does. She even danced with Mr. Derwent, who asked her out of painful politeness. She seemed most amused.'
I imagined she had. Leland Derwent was the epitome of innocence, and Lady Breckenridge had a rather worldly outlook. I hoped she had not shocked Leland too much.
I studied the head of my walking stick, which was engraved with the inscription Captain G. Lacey, 1817. 'Now, we come to the event of Turner's death. Take me to that and tell me what happened, exactly.'
'I remember very precisely that I was talking to Lady Gillis. We both had seen a patterned silk at Madame Mouchand's and admired it. I was explaining that it would look fine on her, but not me, because I am too stout to carry it off. All at once, we heard a horrible scream. It pierced the air, cutting over the music. Everyone stopped, of course, even the musicians, as we looked for the disturbance. And there was Imogene Harper, near the stairs with the anteroom door open behind her, screaming frantically.'
'Did you see Colonel Brandon? Was he near her?'
'No. At that moment, I saw him nowhere in the room. He did reappear, however, when I made my way to Mrs. Harper. The colonel came from behind me and shoved his way through. We reached her at about the same time.'
'What did he say?'
'Nothing very much. In general, men are useless in a crisis. Except Grenville. He very sensibly took Mrs. Harper by the hand and led her to a seat and called for brandy. Then he entered the room with Lord Gillis. The rest of the guests could only gape. I stayed with Louisa, who took it very well, until Lord Gillis sent for Bow Street. Then she nearly swooned. Louisa believes her husband truly did kill Mr. Turner, you see.'
I recalled the resigned look in Louisa's eyes. 'Pomeroy obviously thinks he did also. But is there anything that points concretely to Brandon having stabbed Turner? Two gentlemen can exchange sharp words without one murdering the other. Or if they do, they call each other out and make a formal show of it.'
'Ah, Lacey, the problem of it is, there were so many people in the ballroom. Who knows who entered that room with Mr. Turner, or who was there already when he entered it? Had he slipped inside for peace and quiet, or did he mean to meet someone? No one saw. We were concentrating and dancing and gossip and disparaging other ladies' gowns, you see. The usual thing.'
'One does not expect a member of the ton to be murdered at a ball,' I agreed. 'And yet, these are violent times.'
'The rioting, you mean?' Lady Aline asked.
Since March, with the hanging of a seaman called John Cashman for the crime of getting drunk and stealing a few weapons, the people of London had rioted. Some protested the unjust killing of Cashman, some the fact that British soldiers, back from the war, often had no money, no employment, and no prospect of payment for the blood they'd given in battle. Others rioted simply because it focused their anger and disgust at something other than the tediousness of their lives.
'Rioting, and the men who put down the riots,' I said. 'Murder in general. It is as though the war allowed us some measure of venting that side of man's nature, but now that avenue is gone.'
Lady Aline's plucked brows rose. 'Surely the threat of Napoleon's invasion and the loss of ten thousand men at Waterloo is not better than a few riots.'
'No, of course not. Never mind. I am melancholy about this entire business.'
'As am I. Poor Louisa.'
She glanced at the closed door, behind which Louisa rested.
'Is there anything more you can tell me?' I asked. 'Anything else you might have noticed?'
'I will think on it. I admit, Lacey, that I am rather stunned by it all. When Mr. Pomeroy arrived, he was inclined to believe that Mrs. Harper had killed the man. She may have. I don't know. But then Colonel Brandon stepped forward to protect her, and Pomeroy switched his attentions to him.' She shook her head. 'This will be scandal. Vicious scandal.'
'Perhaps Louisa would be better off somewhere other than London,' I said.
'Indeed. I could take her with me to Dorset. That is sufficiently distant, for now, I think.'
'She will refuse, of course.'
'I will persuade her. If nothing else, I'll feed her laudanum and drag her off while she sleeps.'
I smiled at the thought, but I knew Lady Aline was capable of doing just that.
Lady Aline sighed. 'Tonight Louisa came face to face with the idea that her husband might be in truth a very dreadful man.'
'Yes,' I said. I was nagged by the feeling that Brandon's vice in this was mere pigheadedness, not evil. Something did not make sense. I, who should have been ready to believe the worst of Brandon, could not now that it had come to it.
Behind the door, Louisa cried out in her sleep. I sprang to my feet, jolted by the heart-rending sound. She must have awakened herself, because we heard a muffled moan, and then the unmistakable sound of weeping.
I was halfway to the door before Lady Aline stopped me. 'Not you,' she said sharply.
I halted, my heart pounding. The need to comfort Louisa struck me hard.
Lady Aline shook her head at me. Then, gathering her skirts, she strode past me to the door of Louisa's bedchamber and let herself inside.
I quit the house. I could not bear to stay any longer, listening to Louisa cry and knowing I could not help her. I took a hackney coach across rainy London and arrived at my lodgings in Grimpen Lane, near Covent Garden, just as dawn broke the sky.
Bartholomew waited in my rooms for me, awake and as fresh as though he'd slept all night, which he hadn't. He had warmed the sitting room and bedchamber, and he helped me to bed.
I closed my eyes, but I could only see Louisa, pale and drawn, her gray eyes full of conviction that her husband had committed murder and adultery. More than that, I could feel Louisa's soft body against mine as she clung to me, needing me. I was not quite certain how I felt about that.
I did doze a few times only to dream of Henry Turner's still, dead body and the sound of Imogene Harper's screams.
Bartholomew woke me at ten that morning. Pomeroy had told me last night that Brandon would be examined by the Bow Street magistrate at eleven o'clock, and I intended to be there. I bathed my face and let Bartholomew shave me.
'Do you think the colonel did it, sir?' Bartholomew asked as he scraped soap and whiskers from my chin.
'I do not know, Bartholomew. He certainly was not very helpful.'
'Want me to come along, sir?'
'No. I have the feeling that trying to keep Colonel Brandon out of Newgate will take much time. No need for you to waste your day in the magistrate's office.'
'Mind if I poke around a bit? Get chummy with Lord Gillis's servants, I mean. See if they witnessed the event?'
He sounded eager, ready to begin the game of investigation.
I told him to enjoy himself. Bartholomew could be a mine of information on what went on not only below stairs, but above stairs as well. He had certainly helped me solve crimes before, even getting himself shot during one adventure. The incident had not dampened his enthusiasm the slightest bit.
