“Yes, secrets that included my name and other details of our naval strategy. I was sent to discover the truth and then to kill him, if I found it necessary. Unfortunately, when I went to look for him, I found him dead. There was nothing to be done.”

  “Except to murder his accomplice in Torquay,” Verlyn said.

  Althea turned to him. “Mr. Nettles!”

  “Yes,” Verlyn smiled ruefully. “I had to seek guidance from London in order to understand the whole. It appears that Smithson here is one of a small cadre of agents whose existence is kept secret from the rest of us, unless the occasion calls for it.”

  “And you from me, Verlyn. While I understand the secrecy, I have wasted a great deal of valuable time following you and Lady Trent around. It would have been so much easier if we could have worked together.”

  “So, how did you discover that the agent in Torquay had betrayed his country?” Althea asked.

  Smithson sighed. “It was a sad bit of theater. Mr. Nettles always appeared in Torquay when the baron came to stay at Ranleigh. We knew we had a mole in the service, and that someone was leaking documents from highly confidential sources. It was merely a matter of putting two and two together.”

  Althea nodded. “And you conveniently received an invitation to Ranleigh this summer.”

  Smithson smiled. “I am a very affable person, Lady Trent. Sir Neville merely recognized my admirable qualities as a friend and confidant.”

  “I see,” Althea replied.

  “In any case, I had thought to clear off once I had taken care of Nettles, but then I had the pair of you acting peculiar, and so I determined to learn the whole.”

  Althea shuddered. “I am glad you asked questions first before you took care of us. We might have joined Mr. Nettles in his fate.”

  “I make it a rule to be particularly careful in my position. Death is so very messy, and I abhor a mess,” Mr. Smithson said.

  “It wasn’t you who pushed me down the hill?”

  “Someone pushed you down a hill?” Verlyn said.

  “And here I thought you were just particularly clumsy,” Smithson said.

  “I am not clumsy, and yes, I felt a distinct push before I went over the edge.”

  “No, dear Lady Trent, I was not involved in anything so vulgar. I am a trained assassin. If I had meant to kill you, I would have done it properly. Besides, I was enthralled by one of Lady Pickney’s delightful stories at the time.”

  “But, apart from Smithson here, why would anyone want to hurt you, Lady Trent?” Verlyn asked.

  Althea decided not to bring up Lady Batterslea or her midnight visitor and so she said airily, “I can see no reason why anyone would.”

  “The person who murdered Lord Tunwell might take the same exception I took to your little investigations,” Smithson said.

  “I think it is time that I returned to Ranleigh,” Verlyn said.

  “If this is an attempt to keep watch over me, then I will respectfully decline. I am on my guard now and so can handle any purported attempt to harm me,” Althea said.

  Verlyn seemed doubtful, but Smithson said, “There is no need for that black look, Verlyn. Now that I know what Lady Trent is about, I can keep my eyes and ears alert to any plot. Besides, it will give me some occupation until I am to visit friends in the North, now that my duties on behalf of his majesty’s government have ceased for the moment.”

  Verlyn replied, “I concede then, and would be most grateful, as I have some business to conclude. When do you plan to journey north?”

  “The date is fixed a fortnight hence,” Smithson said.

  “And when do you return to Dettamoor Park, Lady Trent?” Verlyn asked.

  Althea, wrapped up in her own thoughts, answered absently, “Three full weeks.”

  “Then, I shall schedule my return to Ranleigh accordingly,” Verlyn said. “Now that that issue is settled, perhaps we should make our way back?”

  The three of them walked together to the edge of the village and Verlyn took his leave.

  Althea offered Mr. Smithson a ride back in her carriage, but he declined. “I certainly didn’t walk to the village! My heavens, what must you think of me? My horse is with the ostler at the inn.”

  Althea smiled, suddenly sure of her course. “Sorry if I have offended you. Perhaps you would be so good as to give me your arm back to my carriage? I have an idle question or two about your birthplace. I have traveled so little that each new place is a delight to discuss.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  When the party returned, the rest of the company had just been invited to some alfresco refreshments in the rose garden. Althea hurried up to change her dress and then joined the group. Mr. Smithson came down several minutes later, resplendent in a dark blue jacket and striped silk waistcoat and skin tight yellow pantaloons. The polish on his boots was like a looking glass. Knowing what she now knew about his clandestine activities, Althea had trouble reconciling the ruthless assassin with the dandy now before her.

  Upon seeing Mr. Smithson, Lady Pickney exclaimed, “My dear sir, I don’t know how you manage to look so crisp and cool as you always do!” She fanned her pink cheeks. “Why, even out here in the shade, it is very warm.”

  “It is a gift, Lady Pickney, I assure you,” he replied with a bland smile.

  Lady Pickney chuckled. “So, I believe it must be. That reminds me of a story my father used to tell about Sir Horace Trowley.” She proceeded to tell a rather long but highly amusing anecdote involving an elderly dandy, a mule and a milkmaid, which had the desired effect of keeping the party entertained until the refreshments were thoroughly consumed and some of the guests mentioned retiring for a little repose before the exertions of supper.

  Althea was in no mood to rest and so informed the party that she was going to take a walk around the pond, assuming that none of the other guests would find that sufficiently exciting to follow her, thus leaving her alone to pursue her thoughts, devise a strategy for catching a murderer, and make new scientific observations.

  In any case, she was thwarted in her attempts at solitude because Cruikshank expressed a desire to accompany her. This created a domino effect. Lady Batterslea, stung by jealousy, declared her intention to come. This forced Mr. Smithson, in light of his promise to Verlyn, to agree to make one of the party. Then Mrs. Gregson, obviously seeing that half the group was engaged in activity and desiring not to be left behind, expressed her wish to join the group, as well.

  Thus arranged, the party entered the house and changed into clothes suitable for a walk on a warm summer afternoon. They met down in the hall, and set out at a sedate pace. Cruikshank maneuvered until Althea found herself sandwiched between him and Mr. Smithson, the other two ladies following slightly behind. Then Lady Batterslea came up beside them and claimed Cruikshank’s attention, forcing him to slow his pace and fall behind. Mrs. Gregson moved forward and took her place to Althea’s right.

  The group passed into a copse of trees, refreshed by the cool of the shade. Mrs. Gregson chattered on about inconsequential subjects, blithely unaware of where she walked until she tripped on a tree root and Althea grabbed her arm. It was in that moment that Althea caught a flash of brown leather and her suspicions were confirmed. It all fell together. Althea took a deep breath to steady herself.

  “Oh my lord, I am the clumsiest creature,” Mrs. Gregson said, standing up straight and shaking out her skirt. “Thank you, Lady Trent, for catching me.”

  Althea schooled her features into a bland smile. “It was nothing, I assure you.”

  The others joined them, and they passed out of the copse into the open, under the warmth of a blazing sun. The pond shimmered in front of them, not two hundred feet away.

  Then there was a sudden commotion. Althea turned around and saw Lady Batterslea fall backwards into Cruikshank’s arms with the air of someone who desires to cause a sensation. He caught her and, startled, lay her gently onto the ground. Mr. Smithson, clearly suspecting some trick, called her name loudly, and when that didn’t seem to rouse her, removed a scented handkerchief and waved it in the air above her. Althea and Mrs. Gregson hurried over just in time to see Lady Batterslea flutter her eyelids open.

  “Oh, dear. What can have happened?” she said in a husky whisper.

  Cruikshank, who had been the obvious recipient of the communication, replied, “You appear to have fainted, Lady Batterslea. Here, Mr. Smithson, please help me. We must assist Lady Batterslea to arise.”

  Althea, who suspected that Lady Batterslea had actually desired to be carried in Cruikshank’s arms as she had once been carried by Norwich, crouched down and took Lady Batterslea’s wrist in her fingers. Just as suspected, her pulse was strong and steady. “I think you will rapidly recover if you can travel to a location away from the sun and heat.”

  “Yes,” Lady Batterslea said with a tremulous voice. “I think that I should return. Perhaps Lord Tunwell, you would be so kind as to help me to walk back to Ranleigh?”

  “Perhaps, if Mr. Smithson would assist me,” Lord Tunwell said, “For I think Lady Batterslea may need an arm on her other side.”

  Smithson sighed and gave Althea a fleeting look. Althea nodded slightly, encouraging him to leave her and assist Lady Batterslea.

  The men helped her to rise and then stationed themselves on either arm. Lady Batterslea was not very well pleased, but put on a good face.

  Mrs. Gregson turned to Althea. “I think we should go with them.”

  “Please, by all means,” Althea replied with a smile, “but I think I will carry on with my walk to the pond. My time at Ranleigh is growing short, and I do not wish to give up such a lovely afternoon. I am sure Lady Batterslea cannot come to harm with two such companions.”

  Mrs. Gregson gave Althea a hard look, as if taking her measure, and then said, “As you wish, Lady Trent.”

  Althea watched her walk away and then turned towards the pond. She desperately needed time to think and to plan. It was all clear to her now, except for the manner and the method to bring about justice. The local magistrate could be called, but would be unlikely to listen to an eccentric widow. She would have to explain the matter to Mr. Read first so that he could vouch for the truth of her accusations.

  Althea stood at the edge of the water, watching the sun glint off of its surface, wholly engrossed in her own meditations. She heard the faint sound of the swish of fabric between legs. So, the reckoning would come before she could explain it all to Mr. Read. Very well! She spun on her heel and faced Mrs. Gregson. That lady took a step backwards in surprise.

  “Lady Trent, I thought better of going back.”

  “I think you will find Mr. Smithson enough to keep Lord Tunwell out of Lady Batterslea’s clutches for today. Although the damage has already been done.”

  Mrs. Gregson’s sharp eyes fixed on her face and then flitted away again. “I’m not sure I take your meaning, Lady Trent.”

  “Merely, that he has already engaged in a dalliance with her. But do not be too perturbed. I think he means to be done with her when the summer ends. Whether she means to be done with him is another matter, of course.”

  Mrs. Gregson gave a high false laugh. “You do say the drollest things, Lady Trent. I really have no interest in Lord Tunwell.”

  Althea smiled. “Let us not mince words. I think you have a great deal of interest in Lord Tunwell and his uncle before him. In fact, I think you took such an interest that you persuaded the late baron to maintain him as his heir despite the many occasions he sought to disinherit poor Mr. Cruikshank. Now why you would go to all that trouble, I do not understand. Unless perhaps you were very attached to his late mother?”

  “I was very fond of Dorothea Cruikshank, yes, and Livia, the late Lady Tunwell, also. We grew up together, you see, so there is no great mystery in that.”

  “On the contrary, there is a great deal of mystery as to why your fondness for the mother and the aunt of Mr. Cruikshank should lead you to kill the baron on his behalf? It seems a fearful step to take merely for the sake of fondness.”

  “Kill Lord Tunwell on Mr. Cruikshank’s behalf? I think that the sun has affected you as well, Lady Trent.”

  “You can mock me all you like, but the evidence does not lie. You really shouldn’t have come back for those boots. They tell the whole sordid tale.”

  “What boots?”

  “The boots you wore when you pushed the baron into the pond and drowned him. The ones that were then quickly cleaned by the house staff without a thought, but which were mistakenly returned to me instead of you. The boots that despite cleaning retained the dirt and plant matter from the pond between the sole and the heel. The ones you are now wearing upon your feet.”

  Mrs. Gregson looked down and stuck out a foot. “These old things? Why, I have had them forever. I don’t know what you are talking about.”

  “Then let me enlighten you. They are new boots, for one thing – the soles are hardly worn. I suspect you bought them for your visit to Ranleigh. And I suspect that you found it very bothersome when they went missing. I remember you told me that you enjoyed a long walk. But somehow I never saw you walk the grounds. I think that is because you didn’t have your boots. I have to assume that your husband noticed that they were missing and, being very tight fisted, gave you no end of trouble about them. That is why you had to come into my room at night and steal them back.”

  Mrs. Gregson opened her mouth in a smile that showed most of her teeth. “Again, I am not sure what you can possibly mean, Lady Trent.”

  “Do you know that when you dig a pond you bring up layers of earth? Those layers may be quite different than the topsoil of the lawn, for example, or the dust of the gravel paths. So different, in fact, that a careful study of the dirt trapped in the heel of your boot indicated that you could only have acquired that dirt from wading into the pond.”

  “Dirt? You talk of dirt? That is no evidence of anything!”

  “Perhaps not.” Althea walked to the edge of the pond and snapped off the end of a reed. She handed it to Mrs. Gregson. “However, the piece of banded horsetail trapped with the dirt proves the case. There is no way that a reed of this type came to be lodged between the heel and the sole of your boot, unless you had waded into the pond.”

  Mrs. Gregson threw the reed on the ground. “And even if all you say is true, who would believe you?”

  “The Magistrate of Bow Street.”

  Mrs. Gregson finally showed a hint of fear. “And how does the Magistrate of Bow Street know a drab nothing of a widow?”

  “He knows me quite well, actually. But do not hesitate to disbelieve me, if you like. I have given Mr. Read a full account of my investigations here. You shall not escape justice for your crime.”

  “My crime?” Mrs. Gregson replied angrily, finally goaded beyond her limits. “My crime? You know nothing of the sufferings she endured! My poor poor Livia! She was so young and pure, so innocent, and he gave her the most loathsome and abominable disease. The French pox, as they call it. It wracked her body. She was covered with boils!”

  “But that was a long time ago. Why avenge her now?”

  She took a ragged breath and continued, seeming not to have heard Althea. “Then, as if to add insult to injury, he made her take a mercury cure! Covered her with creams and filled the air with vapors. He said it would make everything right. He said she would be able to have a baby – the one thing she had always wanted – but instead, it robbed her of her faculties. She went mad! So out of her mind that she ended her days chained up in a room in the attic. Now tell me, who has committed the crime?”

  “But why did the baron have her take mercury if he himself took arsenic?” Althea said.

  “Because he was the most selfish being alive and desired her to try what he himself was unwilling to undergo. The doctors told him that mercury would cure him more rapidly. He feared for his own safety, but thought nothing of risking hers.” She looked at Althea defiantly. “And that is why I had to kill him.”

  “But why now? Why after all these years?”

  “I had my reasons.”

  “I see. Perhaps you needed time to plan. It must have taken some effort to ingratiate yourself enough for an invitation to Ranleigh, where you would have the freedom of movement to invite the baron to take a walk with you. After all, you were friends of old, or so he thought.”

  Mrs. Gregson eyed her coldly but did not disagree.

  “And then you had only to learn his habits enough to know just what would tempt him. You knew from his choice of comfits that he preferred almond to other flavors. That provided the perfect opportunity to give him a taste of his own medicine. Or, more precisely, a significant overdose of the very arsenic he took as a cure, wrapped in the sticky sweetness of marzipan. The girl at the shop in Berryfield remembers you purchasing some before we arrived. Your red hair is quite distinctive.”

  “I should have worn a close bonnet, I suppose,” Mrs. Gregson replied.

  “It was very clever of you to choose arsenic, because no one could ever prove that he hadn’t taken it himself. And then, while he was in a fit, you had only to push him in and hold him under. It was the perfect crime, or it would have been, had it not been for your boots getting covered in pond mud.”

  “You seem to have figured it all out.”

  “Almost everything. I am still not sure why you bothered to push me down the hill, unless I have misjudged your perspicacity. Was it merely that I had discerned too much for your comfort?”

  “No, not at all. It was for the pleasure of the thing. A pleasure that would only have been equaled by your death,” she said.

  “And what has given you such a cause for hate?”

  “Do not play the fool with me. Almost from the very moment you set eyes on him, you desired to make him your conquest. You had a duke, so I am told, and yet that was not enough. With your arts and allurements, you sought to draw him in.”

  “You surely cannot mean Mr. Cruikshank?” Althea said.

  “Of course, I mean him. Now that he is Lord Tunwell, he was made for better things than you – an alliance with a noble house – with one of the great families of England! I could not let him fall prey to your base temptation. For you would only seek to ruin his magnificent future.”

 

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