A Body in Berkeley Square

"And he was willing to attend?" Colonel Brandon went to social occasions because of a sense of duty, not pleasure. When he reached the gatherings, he immediately sought the card room or his circle of friends and left Louisa to enjoy the event on her own.

  "As willing as he usually is," Louisa said with the ghost of a smile.

  "Tell me every detail you can remember," I urged. "Begin with leaving your house tonight. What was Brandon like? Did he behave in any way out of the ordinary?"

  "Much as usual, I think." Louisa sighed. "I admit that I was not paying attention. I was much more worried that my gown would be not quite right, and what would Lady Gillis think of me? It seems so silly now."

  I could not imagine Louisa looking anything but radiant, but I did not say so. The way ladies viewed other ladies, I had come to learn, was much different from the manner in which gentlemen viewed them. A woman would notice that the braid on another woman's bodice was two years out of date; a man would note how the color of the braid brought out the blue of her eyes.

  "You looked splendid, Louisa," Lady Aline said. "I told you so, I believe."

  Louisa gave her a wan smile. "You were very kind, I remember."

  "What time did you reach the Gillises' home?" I asked.

  "About ten o'clock, I think. Many others arrived at that time, as well. I remember that the square was packed with carriages."

  "When you walked into the house, did you note who was around you? Who went in before and after you did?"

  Louisa's brow furrowed. "I am not certain. I cannot remember, Gabriel. It seems as though it took place in another lifetime."

  "Why is it important, anyway, Lacey?" Lady Aline interrupted. "Surely it's only important whether Brandon went near the Turner fellow."

  "I am thinking along the lines of the knife. Brandon said he did not even know he had it with him. Perhaps he is lying, perhaps not. In either case, what if someone picked his pocket and obtained the knife that way? In the crush at the front door, with people milling about trying to enter the house all at once, a hand could easily slip into Brandon's pocket and purloin the knife."

  Aline gave me an incredulous look. "Do you mean to say that a guest of Lord Gillis was an accomplished pickpocket? All of Mayfair would swoon."

  "Not necessarily a guest. Footmen and maids surround their masters and mistresses. Lord Gillis's own servants usher in the guests and take their wraps."

  "Well, good Lord," Lady Aline said. "Then everyone in the house, from the master to the scullery maid and everyone in between, could have murdered Mr. Turner."

  "Yes," I said, feeling gloomy. "They all could have. We need to pare down the number to the ones most likely, and from there we will find the culprit."

  "You make it sound alarmingly simple," Aline said, a wry twist to her lips. "How can we?"

  "By asking rude and impertinent questions. Something I excel at."

  Lady Aline looked amused. I was not known for my patience, especially in situations with dire consequences, like this one.

  I returned to the question. "Do you remember, Louisa? To whom did you speak when you first entered the house?"

  She sat in silent thought for a moment. I knew it would be a difficult task for anyone to remember what they did every minute of one particular evening. The events that followed would make it doubly difficult for her, but I had to try.

  "Mrs. Bennington, the actress," Louisa said at last, naming a young woman who had recently taken the crowned heads of Europe by storm.

  From what I'd heard, Claire Bennington had an English father but had been raised on the Continent, taking the stage in Italy about five years ago. She had become a success there, and recently returned to London, where she had quickly won over audiences. She was still quite young, only in her early twenties, and married to an Englishman whom she'd met on the Continent. This season, it was quite popular for hostesses to have Mrs. Bennington attend one of their events and give a short performance for the guests.

  "She seems a rather vague young woman," Louisa went on. "I have seen her perform and enjoyed it very much. I remember remarking on the contrast, how brilliantly she plays a part, to her blank stares when anyone greeted her tonight."

  "I noted that, myself," Lady Aline said. "Probably she plays others so well because she has no thoughts of her own."

  "I can hardly imagine her picking my husband's pocket, however," Louisa said.

  "Who else was nearby?"

  Louisa closed her eyes, as though shutting out the room to remember the streams of guests entering Lord Gillis's house. "I suppose I remember Mrs. Bennington because she is so famous. Oh, yes, Mr. Stokes was behind us. He is rather loud. I could not mistake him."

  I glanced at Lady Aline. "I do not know Mr. Stokes."

  "Basil Stokes," Aline answered. "Knew him since I was seventeen. Always tried to look up my skirts then--said he only wanted to see my ankles. I boxed his ears. Still likes to look up a lady's skirt, the devil."

  "Would he have a motive for murdering Mr. Turner?" I wondered.

  "I have no idea. Don't see why. I could ask him, I suppose."

  Lady Aline's idea of investigation might be more like interrogation by enemy soldiers. "That might not be necessary," I said quickly. I turned back to Louisa. "What happened when you entered the house?"

  Louisa plucked at the blanket's edge. "The usual sort of thing. The footman took my wrap. My maid and I went to a retiring room, where she brought my slippers from their box and helped me put them on. Then she re-pinned my hair. Lady Breckenridge was in the retiring room with her maid, as well. We greeted each other."

  "Where did you rejoin Colonel Brandon?"

  "Near the entrance to the ballroom. He was speaking to Mr. Grenville and looking impatient. Aloysius so dislikes the ceremony of balls. I have no idea who else spoke to him while I was in the retiring room."

  And Brandon was not the sort of husband to say breezily to his wife, Oh, my dear, I've just been talking to Mr. Godwin and Lord Humphreys about our ride in the park the other day. Brandon kept his mouth closed unless asked a direct question. Louisa had by this time mastered the technique for prying information from him when she needed to, but she'd have had no reason to on that occasion, unfortunately.

  "No," I agreed. "Go on."

  "I entered the ballroom with him. We were announced, though no one took much notice. Not of an obscure colonel and his wife."

  Lady Aline patted her hand. "But we know your true worth, Louisa."

  Louisa tried to look grateful, but I could see her struggling with exhaustion.

  "I dislike to ask you about everyone you and Brandon talked to after that," I said, "but I am afraid I will have to. Did Brandon stay with you or flee as soon as the formalities were over?"

  "Fled, of course," she said with a tired smile.

  "To the card room? Or the billiards room?"

  "Neither. I had stopped to speak to ladies of my acquaintance, and when I turned around again, Aloysius was approaching Mrs. Harper." Louisa faltered. "I did not know who she was. I remember feeling surprised because he began speaking to her as though he knew her and did not have to be introduced."

  "They stood alone?"

  "No." Louisa's lips tightened. "Mrs. Harper appeared to be with Mr. Derwent and Lady Gillis. Mr. Turner was also nearby, and he joined them."

  "What did you think?" I asked as gently as I could.

  "I did not think anything, not then. I did not know that the lady was Mrs. Harper--I'd never seen her before. But when Aloysius turned and walked away with her, I wondered if she might be the woman called Imogene Harper. You see, Mrs. Harper had been sending Aloysius letters."

  My brows rose. "Had she? Did he tell you that?"

  "Goodness, no. One morning at breakfast, I'd finished and started to leave the table while Aloysius was still reading his correspondence. I paused to kiss his cheek, and I happened to see the signature on the letter he was reading. Imogene Harper. I knew no one of that name. I must have startled him, because
he immediately turned the paper facedown. He looked relieved when I merely wished him good morning and continued on my way."

  What sort of man read letters from his mistress at breakfast with his wife? Knowing Brandon, I would assume that the woman had simply written him a letter about some business interest--except that Brandon had admitted to being Mrs. Harper's lover.

  "She wrote more?" I asked.

  "Yes. Several days after that, I saw a letter by his plate at breakfast, written in a woman's hand. Aloysius had not yet entered the room, so I picked it up." Louisa flushed, as though ashamed of herself. "It smelled of a woman's perfume. It was then that I began to suspect."

  Tears swam in her eyes. I rested my hand on hers. "Louisa, I am sorry."

  "If the connection were innocent," she said, "why should Aloysius not mention it? Mrs. Harper's husband, it seems, was a major who died at Vitoria. Why not tell me, or ask whether I remembered her?"

  Why not, indeed? The evidence and admission were there. And yet, it still seemed unbelievable for Brandon. His sense of moral exactness had always been strong. Or had he simply been moral because he'd never been tempted? It is easy to reject sin when one has no interest in it.

  "When he walked away with Mrs. Harper tonight, where did he go?" I asked.

  "To an alcove. There were several such niches that opened around the ballroom where the guests could adjourn to talk."

  "So he walked into a private alcove alone with Mrs. Harper for everyone in the ballroom to see? The bloody idiot."

  "Yes." Lady Aline nodded. "He does not seem to be gifted in the ways of discretion."

  Louisa put her hand to her mouth. "Forgive me. Gabriel, I cannot speak of this any longer."

  Lady Aline's grim look softened. "You poor darling. You must be put to bed. Captain Lacey can ask his questions in the morning."

  Tears slid down Louisa's face and pooled on her lips. I itched to know everything immediately, to run through the streets of London putting everything aright, but I knew that Lady Aline was correct. Louisa was exhausted and upset and needed to rest. I had rarely seen her this wretched.

  I silently vowed that when I saw Colonel Brandon, I would make him pay for every one of Louisa's tears.

  * * * * *

  Chapter Three

  Aline signaled me to wait for her as she led Louisa into her bedchamber, so I paced Louisa's feminine sitting room while she and a maid tucked Louisa into bed.

  The room reminded me of Louisa. She liked yellow, because she said it brought the sunshine to her and made her feel cheerful even on the gloomiest days. Tonight, the cheerfulness did nothing for me. The cream and yellow striped wallpaper, the white drapes with gold tassels, and the matching gilt and yellow silk chairs and sofa could not chase away the darkness.

  I had known Louisa Brandon for twenty years. She'd been a fresh young woman of twenty-two when Brandon had proudly introduced her. I, already married at twenty, had marveled at her forthrightness and good sense, as well as her prettiness. My own wife, Carlotta, had been an ethereal beauty, all gold ringlets and soft white skin. Louisa had a wide smile, a crooked nose, and shrewd gray eyes that noted everything.

  I hadn't understood that Carlotta, shy as a mouse, had been intimidated by her, and I had not helped by holding up Louisa as a model for Carlotta to follow. Carlotta, after we'd been married six years, had left me, deserting me for a French officer. I had been furious and blamed her entirely at first, but then I'd shifted the blame to myself. I'd been an appalling husband.

  Lady Aline returned through the white and gold door that led to Louisa's bedchamber and closed it behind her. She was shaking her head. A pure white curl came loose from her coiffure and fell to her shoulder.

  "She's overset." Aline wiped a tear from her eye, smearing the kohl she'd applied liberally around it. "I am not certain what has horrified her more, the fact that her husband has been arrested for murder or the fact that he betrayed her with another. All gentlemen take mistresses, she said to me, a wife must learn to bear it. What rot. Men fill women's heads with that nonsense so that they can do what they like. Don't you think so, Lacey?"

  "I agree," I said.

  She gave me a look of surprise. "Well, well. If that is the truth, then you are the most remarkable gentleman I have ever known. Ring for the maid, please. We need more tea."

  I crossed the room to tug a bell pull.

  "I've given Louisa a drop of laudanum," Aline said. "That and the brandy should ensure that she sleeps well into the morning. I will stay with her until she's stronger. I do hope you clear up this mess quickly, Lacey."

  "I appreciate your faith in me."

  Lady Aline folded the blanket Louisa had used and drew it onto her lap. "You have impressed me so far. You cleared up the murder at the Sudbury School in Berkshire, discovered who killed Lydia Westin's husband and that barrister's wife, not to mention put up with Lady Clifford and her blasted missing necklace. I much prefer having you look into the matter than Bow Street. So unsavory."

  "It is unsavory no matter who looks into it," I said. I gathered up the tea things to give my hands something to do.

  "Perhaps, but this is Louisa's life. Her husband. Their secrets. You can at least be gentle."

  "I can be gentle with Louisa, true. I'm certain I'll throttle Brandon when I see him. As far as I can discern, he's been a complete idiot."

  The maid entered with a fresh pot of tea on a tray. She removed the dirty cups and saucers and departed. I noted that the maid's eyes were red with tears.

  Lady Aline poured tea in a businesslike manner. She sloshed a dollop of brandy into mine without asking me before handing me the cup.

  "Now then," she said, lifting the teapot to pour for herself. "I will tell you the entire nasty tale. I arrived at the Gillises' ball not long after the Brandons did. I entered, in fact, in time to see the damn fool colonel lead Imogene Harper from her friends to a private alcove. Louisa watched them go with a look of dismay. Tongues around me began to wag on the instant. Mr. Bennington, the husband of the actress, drawled to me, I say, he's no model of discretion, is he? He sounded delighted to be entertained. Others speculated about who this Harper woman truly was. She is a friend of Lady Gillis's, I gather, though Mrs. Harper claimed to me that she'd known the Brandons during the war."

  "And yet, Louisa says she does not remember her."

  "Precisely. At any rate, Louisa's friends took her under their collective wing and went on as though nothing had happened. Colonel Brandon and Mrs. Harper stayed in that alcove for a very long time. They did not emerge, in fact, until the dancing began. Brandon stood near Mrs. Harper after that, and whenever I happened to glimpse him, he did not look best pleased. I saw Mr. Turner approach Mrs. Harper, possibly to ask her to dance. Colonel Brandon more or less shooed him away. Mr. Turner looked unhappy, but he went. But later on, I happened to be standing near when he approached again.

  "Mr. Turner claimed that Mrs. Harper had promised him the waltz. Mrs. Harper looked a little confused, then she said, Oh yes, of course. Colonel Brandon turned bright red. He said, Mind your manners; the lady does not wish to waltz. Mr. Turner said, You are mistaken, sir. She promised. Then Colonel Brandon said, rather loudly, If you do not cease pestering her, I will thrash you. People began to stare at that, I do not have to tell you. Mr. Turner smiled a bit and said, No, you won't. He bowed to Mrs. Harper and wandered away."

  "Damn," I said, exasperated. "Brandon appears the very picture of a jealous rival."

  "Yes, it was not well done. Soon after that, supper was called. Leland Derwent escorted me in, sweet boy. Colonel Brandon immediately stuck out his arm to Imogene Harper. Never mind that Louisa was standing near to them. I know it's not the thing for a husband to always escort his wife, but the snub was apparent. Brandon was red and uncomfortable. He knew what it looked like."

  "And Mrs. Harper? Was she uncomfortable as well?"

  "Not a bit of it." Lady Aline clicked her cup to her saucer. "She smiled sweetly at him and to
ok his arm. He led her to the supper room and seated himself next to her, stayed glued to her throughout the meal. Louisa was not far from him, trying not to look mortified, poor lamb."

  "What the devil was he thinking?"

  "Precisely what Mr. Bennington asked me. He was seated on my other side. My wife runs about where she pleases, he said with a cynical smile. But she pretends to be the very picture of devotion. Of course, that is what makes her a celebrated actress. Perhaps the colonel could take lessons from her."

  "Dear God," I said. "Brandon's made himself and Louisa a laughingstock."

  "I know," Lady Aline replied sadly. "That was not the worst of it."

  I drank down my tea, the bitter liquid burning my tongue. "Go on," I said.

  "After supper, Colonel Brandon led Mrs. Harper out of the dining room again. He monopolized her in her ballroom, kept her near him. They did not dance, but neither did she dance with anyone else. When Mr. Turner approached again, Brandon snarled at him. Mr. Turner laughed and walked away. I heard Mr. Turner say, Soon, sir. Very soon. What that meant I have no idea, but Mrs. Harper looked distressed, and Brandon grew even redder."

  "Did anyone else approach them?" I asked. "Or Mr. Turner, for that matter?" I knew I needed to tamp down my anger at Brandon in order to decide what had happened. Anyone near Brandon might have stolen his knife, including Mrs. Harper herself.

  "Basil Stokes spoke to them. I saw him laughing about something in that loud way of his. Colonel Brandon and Mrs. Harper endeavored to be polite. Leland Derwent spoke to them, but then, young Mr. Derwent is a stickler about making the polite rounds. He is too shy to be much of a conversationalist, but he knows to ask about one's mother or ailing sister and to remark upon the weather." Lady Aline put her forefinger to the corner of her mouth. "Let me think. Lady Gillis herself approached them. The irritating Rafe Godwin. He is an annoying young man, tries to imitate Grenville, but Grenville has nothing to do with him, and so he should not."

  "What about Mr. Turner? To whom did he speak?"

  "Oh, a good number of people. He circulated the room, danced with a few debutantes--whose mothers ought to have known better, but he is an earl's cousin, after all. He spent much time with Leland Derwent. I believe they knew each other at school, though I would not think that innocent Leland was much Henry Turner's type. But Leland suffers from over-politeness and doesn't have the bad manners to tell Turner to go to the devil."