ThePerfectPoison
TWENTY-ONE
“WHAT THE DEVIL DID YOU DO TO THOSE TWO MEN TO make them flee like that?” Caleb asked. He sounded intrigued.
Lucinda looked at him across the rim of her teacup. She could see his face clearly now, thanks to the spare pair of glasses that she had located in her desk. His features were still set in cold, hard lines and there was an implacable expression in his eyes. But he had that other part of him, the chillingly dangerous part that she had glimpsed briefly a short time ago in Guppy Lane, back in hand.
They were in the library. Patricia, who had arrived home a short time earlier, had joined them, still in her ball gown.
Caleb stood with his back to the window. He had removed his long overcoat. Lucinda had been astonished to see that he wore the shirt and trousers he’d had on earlier at the ball. Evidently he had not gone to bed. The shirt was undone at the throat and the sleeves were pushed up on his arms.
He must have left his house in a great hurry, she concluded. Unfortunately, the informality brought back images of how he had looked bending over her in the drying shed, coming down on top of her, crushing her into the fragrant bedding. She had to work hard to concentrate.
It was Patricia who responded to Caleb’s question.
“I expect she threw some of her pepper powder into their faces.” She glanced at Lucinda. “Isn’t that right?”
“Yes.” Lucinda put her cup down on the saucer. “My mother and I always carried some when we traveled abroad with Papa. It became a habit. Mama concocted the original recipe but over the years I have changed the ingredients somewhat in order to enhance the effects.”
“I also carry a supply,” Patricia said to Caleb. “As does my mother. A lady can never be too careful.”
“I usually carry the pepper somewhere on my person,” Lucinda explained. She looked down at the stained and torn blue silk skirts of the ball gown. “But I neglected to instruct Madam LaFontaine to insert a pocket into this dress. That was why I had to struggle with my satchel, which complicated things no end.”
Caleb shook his head. “I suppose I should be amazed but somehow I am not. It is obvious that the women in this family are a self-reliant lot.”
“I still cannot believe that you were very nearly abducted tonight, Lucy.” Patricia shuddered. “It does not bear thinking about. And in Guppy Lane, of all places. You have always said that you felt quite safe there.”
“I am safe there,” Lucinda said. “I assure you, those villains do not reside in that neighborhood. The Rosses and the others would have recognized them immediately. I expect the footpads were loitering in the vicinity, hoping to surprise an unwary victim. When they saw my carriage, they concluded that I would be an easy target. One might say that it was a crime of opportunity.”
“No.” Caleb’s tone was low and grimly certain. “You were not selected by chance. What happened tonight was a deliberate attempt to kidnap you. If they had been successful, I have no doubt but that you would have been killed. The authorities would have pulled your body out of the river tomorrow or the next day.”
Stunned speechless, Lucinda could only stare at him.
Patricia’s cup clattered loudly in the saucer. She looked at Caleb, mouth open in shock.
Lucinda recovered first. “Why would those two want to murder me? I am sure that I have never met either one of them before in my life.”
“Judging by the descriptions I got from the residents of Guppy Lane, they were a couple of ordinary footpads from the streets, employed for their muscle. They didn’t give a damn about you one way or the other. Whoever hired them to grab you is the one who wants you dead.”
A twinge of pain went through Lucinda’s shoulder. “I was afraid you were going to say that.”
“You haven’t answered the question, sir,” Patricia said. “Why would anyone want to kill Lucy?”
Caleb’s expression was cool and steady. Lucinda could feel the energy in the atmosphere around him. In his own way, he was hunting.
“I think it is obvious that the person who commissioned the kidnapping has discovered that I am conducting an investigation on your cousin’s behalf,” he said. “He is afraid that she might provide the clues I need to locate Dr. Basil Hulsey. And if I find Hulsey, I will find those who are now financing his research into the founder’s formula.”
Lucinda sat very still on the sofa. “In other words, someone in the Order of the Emerald Tablet tried to have me abducted and murdered tonight.”
Caleb inclined his head a little. “There is a ninety-seven percent probability that is exactly what happened.”
She shivered. “Well, you certainly do not try to sugarcoat matters, sir.”
“It is not my way, Lucinda. Would you prefer that I did?”
She smiled wryly. “No, of course not.”
He nodded, satisfied. “I didn’t think so. You are like me in that respect. You prefer truth.”
“Most of the time,” she said under her breath.
Patricia turned toward her. “But this means that you are in great danger, Lucy. Whoever hired those two dreadful men may well try to snatch you again.”
“Probably not in broad daylight, though,” Caleb said, very thoughtful now. “And very likely not from this house. It would be too risky, what with your neighbors watching and your staff about. Do not forget that they made no move to seize you tonight until you were in Guppy Lane.”
“They must have been watching this house,” Lucinda said. “They followed me, waiting for an opportunity.”
“Yes,” Caleb said. “But I doubt that you will ever see either of them again. The Order of the Emerald Tablet does not tolerate failure.”
Lucinda shuddered. “Do you think they will be killed?”
Caleb shrugged. “Wouldn’t surprise me, although it’s possible they will survive at least for a time. Indeed, I’m hoping they will.”
“Why?” Patricia asked.
“Because I have a great many questions for them. If they have any common sense, they will go to ground in the stews. From what I can tell, the Order draws its members from the upper classes. Such individuals are unlikely to have the sort of connections required to track down those from the criminal underworld who do not wish to be found.”
Lucinda raised her brows. “But you do have connections of that sort?”
“One or two,” he said. “Not nearly as many as I believe I’m going to require in the future. It is obvious the agency will need them.”
“A chilling thought,” Lucinda said.
“Meanwhile, I cannot be with you and Miss Patricia at all times,” he continued, “so I am going to employ a bodyguard to keep an eye on both of you.”
Panic shot through her. “You think Patricia is also in danger?”
“You are obviously the primary target,” he said. “But if I were in the shoes of whoever was behind tonight’s activities, I would see your cousin as an elegant way to lure you into a trap.”
“Yes, of course,” Lucinda whispered. “I never thought of that.”
Patricia was clearly impressed. “No offense, Mr. Jones, but you do tend to think in a rather convoluted fashion.”
“You are not the first to point out that unfortunate habit.” He stopped and took out his watch. “It is nearly seven. I must send a message immediately. I want the bodyguard to come to this address as soon as possible this morning so that I can get on with other aspects of the investigation.”
Lucinda put down her cup. “I have never dealt with a bodyguard. I am not entirely certain what one does with such an individual.”
“Think of him as a footman,” Caleb said. He opened a desk drawer and took out a sheet of paper. “In other words, make sure that he is always conveniently at hand.”
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