Chapter 9

CHAPTER 9

O n the way to Scotland Yard, Hadrian couldn't help but think of what Miss Wren had said to him. She knew he wasn't being completely honest with her. And she was demanding he change that. But how could he when doing so would ensure she severed their association? Or worse, tell people he belonged in Bedlam.

Which was perhaps precisely where he ought to be.

When he'd shaken the doctor's hand, he'd been overwhelmed by feelings of fear, agitation, and guilt. There'd also been a strong sense of deception. Then Hadrian had looked into the man's eyes and seen those emotions mirrored there. It had been the most discomfiting encounter. And it had been accompanied by the usual shock of pain to Hadrian's head.

Setting aside the horrid curse, Hadrian tried to focus on what the encounter revealed. All of it pointed to the doctor lying.

When he arrived at Scotland Yard, he gave a report to the sergeant on duty. The man said they'd dispatch someone to Huntley Street as soon as possible. Frustrated that no one would return with him, Hadrian made his way back to Sir Henry's.

Again, his mind turned to their meeting with Selwin earlier and how many questions they now had as a result. And now with the attack on poor Vaughn, they had even more questions. This investigation was fast exceeding its scope, and Miss Wren wasn't even aware of how this was all related to the investigation he'd hired her for—his own attack.

He was going to need to find a way to tell her the truth. But today was not the time. They needed to deal with what had happened to the butler.

As the coach stopped in front of Sir Henry's house, Hadrian worked to clear his mind. Departing the coach, he breathed deeply of the cold, late winter air and hoped it would provide some ease, for there was still a mild ache in his head.

Miss Wren admitted him just as the doctor—who was not Selwin—was finishing with Vaughn. The butler had suffered a mild concussion, and the doctor prescribed strict bed rest for a week and suggested he may want to consider stepping back from his duties. It seemed Vaughn's retirement had come upon him even more suddenly than he'd originally anticipated.

Hadrian stood in the entrance hall with Miss Wren as the doctor departed. A moment after the door closed, there was a knock.

"Did he forget something?" Miss Wren mused as she opened the door.

However, it wasn't the doctor returning. It was Inspector Teague. His brown eyes fixed on Miss Wren first, then his gaze found Hadrian.

"Afternoon," Teague said.

"Come in, Inspector," Miss Wren invited as she opened the door wider.

"Is it a coincidence that you are the one to come and investigate what's happened?" Hadrian asked.

"Somewhat." Teague removed his gloves and took out a notebook and pencil. "I had just arrived for my shift after you left, Ravenhurst. I did see that you had made a report and would have volunteered to come, but I was the only inspector available, as luck would have it."

"It's certainly convenient for us," Ravenhurst said. "Come back to the parlor where you can speak with the victim and the residents of the house."

Miss Wren arched a brow at him, and Hadrian realized he'd taken charge where he shouldn't have. He was merely a helpful associate of someone who was actually attached to this household by family ties.

"Forgive me, Miss Wren," he murmured.

She pressed her lips together then addressed the inspector. "Do come along to the parlor where you can speak with Vaughn. He is the butler and the one who was attacked." She led him along the corridor past the stairs to the rear of the house. "The others present are my cousin, Mrs. Forsythe, who is Sir Henry's daughter, the cook, and the maid."

Teague nodded just before they entered the parlor. Hadrian trailed them and stood on the periphery.

Vaughn was now sitting up on the settee. Mrs. Forsythe slumped in a chair nearby, still looking somewhat pale. The maid stood near the settee, and the cook fussed with the tea tray, crowding everything she'd brought up earlier onto it.

"Everyone, this is Inspector Teague from Scotland Yard," Miss Wren said. "Inspector, allow me to present my cousin, Mrs. Forsythe."

Mrs. Forsythe looked up at the inspector but didn't say anything. Miss Wren introduced the retainers next.

"I'm sorry for what happened," Teague began. "How are you feeling, Vaughn?"

"Head's as heavy as lead," the butler replied, his eyes nearly closed. "Mildly concussed, the doctor said. I'll recover."

"I'm glad to hear it," Teague said. "I don't wish to trouble you too much as I'm sure you need to rest, but if you could tell me what happened, that would be most helpful."

Vaughn detailed the events, starting with hearing a noise in the study and going to see what it could be. After he shared his surprise at finding someone there, he described what he could of the intruder, including the smell of perfume, and the subsequent attack, as well as the fact that assailant hadn't been holding anything.

"Did he hit you with something?" Teague asked.

Vaughn nodded then winced. "Something in the study, but I don't know what. It all happened very quickly."

"I'll go there shortly and take a look," Teague said. "Have you any idea how he stole into the house?"

"No, but I suppose he could've slipped in the front door," Vaughn said with a frown. "I was in here tidying."

"But you didn't hear him come in that way?" Teague prodded.

"I did not. The first I heard was a shuffling noise, as if furniture was being moved."

Teague had been scratching notes in his book the entire time and continued to do so. "Can you think of anything else I should know?" Teague looked up from his book to query the butler.

"I believe that's everything. I'm sorry I can't better describe the thief," Vaughn said rather bitterly, his brow creasing deeply.

"You call him a thief, and yet you didn't see him carrying anything out of the house," Teague noted. "Are you certain he took something?"

"No, I'm not certain," Vaugh replied with a morose expression. "I just assume he came in to take something, that he saw the wreath on the door and thought to take advantage of a grieving household."

"Yes, that can happen." Teague gave him a reassuring nod. "You've done very well." He transferred his gaze to the cook and then the maid. "Did either of you hear anything?"

They both explained that they'd been occupied on other floors. The cook seemed most distressed. She quickly left with her overloaded tray.

Teague looked to Miss Wren's cousin in the chair. "Would you join me in the study, please, Mrs. Forsythe? I should like to see where the attack took place."

The woman rose, albeit somewhat shakily. Miss Wren moved to steady her and murmured something near her ear. Mrs. Forsythe nodded and said something in response. Though Hadrian couldn't be certain, he thought she'd said she would be all right—if he was any good at reading lips.

Miss Wren led the procession to the study. Hadrian trailed behind and hoped it was all right that he was still there. He was entirely invested in what had happened. Indeed, he was invested in anything to do with Sir Henry's death, and that included the attack of his butler in his house. But it was more than that. As he'd come to know Miss Wren, he was invested in her , and this affected her.

Teague surveyed the study, walking slowly about and writing notes. "It looks as though he ransacked the room."

"He did not," Mrs. Forsythe said, sounding smaller than she had when Hadrian had spoken with her previously. "I was in the middle of going through my father's things. I must clear the house as soon as possible so it can be sold. I'd gone for a walk to take a break from the work. You can see how cumbersome it all is."

"I can." Teague gave her a sympathetic look. "You were out walking when the attack occurred?"

She nodded. "When I returned, I found Vaughn on the floor here." She gestured to an area just inside the doorway. "He was there."

Teague went to the space and crouched down. "I see a bit of blood on the carpet. Was Vaughn's head bleeding after the attack?"

"Yes," Mrs. Forsythe replied with a shudder.

"And was this pottery broken before?" Teague asked, gesturing toward what looked to have been a Grecian urn or probably a replica of one. There were three large pieces on the carpet, and there looked to be a smudge of blood on one of them.

"No. That was on the corner of the desk. It belonged to my mother, and I liked having it nearby as I worked." She sniffed and wiped a hand over her eye.

Miss Wren moved closer to her cousin and patted her shoulder.

"Perhaps it can be repaired," Hadrian suggested. "I'd be happy to try."

Mrs. Forsythe looked at him with a bleary eye. "I'm not sure I want to keep something that nearly killed my parents' butler."

Hadrian could understand that.

"Is there anything missing?" Teague asked.

"Not that I can tell, but I haven't looked terribly closely. I was worried about Vaughn."

"Of course, that is understandable," Teague said with a solemn nod. "If you do find that something has gone missing, please send word to Scotland Yard as soon as possible."

"I'm not sure I would even know," Millicent said, glancing around the room with a bleak expression. "This isn't my house. I don't know that I'd recognize if something was gone."

"Also understandable," Teague said.

"There's no chance you'll catch this person, is there?" Mrs. Forsythe looked and sounded defeated.

"It's unlikely," Teague replied quietly. "And I do apologize for that."

"I feel so unsafe here now." She covered her mouth with her hand and again, Miss Wren comforted her by stroking her shoulder.

"I doubt the assailant will return," Teague said. "If that gives you any comfort."

At last, some fire showed in Mrs. Forsythe's gaze. "It does not, Inspector."

"I understand. I'll take my leave of you now. Please accept my condolences on the loss of your father. I'm sorry this incident happened so soon after, while you are already grieving."

"Thank you." Mrs. Forsythe sniffed and pulled a handkerchief from her pocket as her eyes began to leak.

"I'll see you out, Teague," Hadrian offered. He led the man back through the sitting room to the entrance hall.

At the front door, Teague turned. He'd tucked his notepad and pencil back into his coat and now drew his gloves back on. He wore a frown, and his gaze was apologetic. "I'm afraid there isn't much we can do in a situation like this. I do think it's unlikely the man will return—if it was as the butler surmised, a thief taking advantage of a house in mourning. We see it not infrequently. Someone dashes in and takes something without being noticed because the household is lax."

Hadrian frowned briefly. "I'm not sure I agree with your assessment that the criminal won't return or that this was a random attempt at theft. There is something very wrong about Sir Henry's death, and today's attack on the poor butler only underscores that."

"It is a terrible incident, to be sure, but there is no evidence that it was anything more than an interrupted burglary."

"I think it was definitely an interrupted burglary, but I don't think it was random," Hadrian said. "Someone came here looking for something and apparently left empty-handed. I fear they may try again." Once again, Hadrian had no proof, just his bloody intuition. At least this time it wasn't due to visions and sensations he couldn't explain. There were just too many unanswered questions about Sir Henry's death and now this. It was too coincidental.

"What makes you certain that is what happened?" Teague asked.

Hadrian exhaled in frustration. He could not share his intuition, which was, at least, based on his cursed new abilities since they'd led him to Sir Henry in the first place.

He could, however, update the inspector on what he'd learned earlier that day. "Miss Wren and I called on Sir Henry's physician, Dr. Robert Selwin, in Harley Street. He insists Sir Henry died of a heart ailment but is unable to recall when he made the diagnosis. We are to see him next week after he's had a chance to review his diary."

Teague blinked. "He couldn't just look while you were there?"

"Apparently not," Hadrian said pointedly. "Furthermore, when we queried him about Sir Henry's wound, he said he hadn't seen it. Either he is lying, or Sir Henry's daughter is mistaken."

"She does seem rather upset," Teague said, glancing toward the study.

Hadrian frowned at him. "That would not prompt her to see something that wasn't there, such as a wound that had been stitched closed. There is something off about Sir Henry's death. I am skeptical that Dr. Selwin performed an examination at all."

"You think he was being lazy?" Teague asked.

Hadrian shrugged. "I don't know his motivation for not ensuring an autopsy was performed, but I think one should have been. Sir Henry collapsed in a club, and despite the doctor's insistence that Sir Henry was suffering from a heart ailment, none of his family were aware. I also find it strange that Sir Henry's body was conveyed to Dr. Selwin that night. The doctor says he doesn't know who they were, but how can that be? How did these men know to bring Sir Henry to his personal physician?"

Teague was silent a moment as if he were pondering all that Hadrian had told him. "Sounds as though you may want to speak with someone who witnessed the event. What is the name of this club where Sir Henry collapsed?"

"Selwin couldn't tell us that either, but we'll hopefully find out from Mrs. Forsythe. If Scotland Yard decides to take an interest in our investigation, do let me know," Hadrian added with a bland smile.

"I will," Teague said pressing his lips tighter. "I admit my investigative curiosity is more than piqued."

Hadrian opened the door for the inspector and watched him go. This day had certainly progressed in a shocking fashion.

Closing the door, he walked back into the parlor where he encountered Miss Wren. She motioned for him to join her near the front windows, which was on the other side of the room from the doorway to the study.

"Millicent would like to return home this evening," Miss Wren said in a low voice. "I don't blame her."

"Nor do I." Hadrian glanced toward the study. "Is she still in there?"

"She's putting all the correspondence into crates. I've offered to finish looking through everything for her."

"That was kind of you," Hadrian said.

"I also wanted to do as you suggested and review the correspondence myself." She glanced toward the study. "There is a stack of letters to Millicent's mother that she is taking with her, and I can't argue with that."

"Hopefully there isn't anything pertinent in what she's removing."

"Even if there is, I can't very well say anything." Miss Wren shot another look toward the study, her features etched with concern. "Poor thing is terribly upset."

"I imagine it's a shock to find one's butler has been attacked."

"Yes, and Vaughn has been with them since Millicent was a child." Miss Wren's brow creased further. "I wonder if the retainers will be comfortable staying here. What if the brigand returns?"

"I can have someone watch the house, if you like," Hadrian offered.

"I couldn't trouble you," Miss Wren said with a shake of her head. "The cook already has a new position and was to leave in a fortnight. While you were gone, she told Millicent she wishes to leave tomorrow. And the maid said she could go stay with a cousin temporarily and has already interviewed for a new placement."

"That leaves the wounded butler," Hadrian said.

"It does, but he can come stay with me and my grandmother while he recuperates. Then he will retire."

"Can you manage that?" Hadrian asked. While he didn't know the specifics of her financial situation, he could surmise that an additional person in the household may be taxing.

"I will." Miss Wren exhaled softly. "There is simply no other choice. And we must expedite matters here. The house needs to be emptied with haste so it can be sold."

Hadrian thought ahead to when everyone dispersed, as soon as tomorrow, apparently. "Once there is no one living here, I suspect whoever attacked Vaughn today may return to find whatever they were looking for."

Her green gaze was shadowed with apprehension. "Do you really think he—or she—would be so bold?"

"I think we must be wary of anything that might happen. What can I do to help?"

"All the rooms must be emptied of personal items—we can leave the furniture for now. Millicent had begun this process, and I will complete it over the next couple of days. I'll work there this evening and return first thing tomorrow. I'll see if the maid can help me through tomorrow at least."

Hadrian frowned. He didn't like the idea of Miss Wren being here tonight. While she wouldn't be alone, the butler hadn't been either. "Will you please allow me to post someone to watch the house overnight while the maid and cook are still here?"

She gave him a small smile. "All right. That is very kind of you."

"It's my pleasure." He felt quite strongly about it and would have insisted if she'd refused him. "I will also help you this evening. And tomorrow, though in the afternoon I need to be at Westminster."

"That would be most appreciated, but really I can't ask that of you."

"You didn't ask," Hadrian said. "I'd like to think that we are becoming friends in addition to professional associates." Except friends didn't keep things from one another, did they? Hadrian knew he had to tell her about his curse, but it could wait until after she sorted through this mess.

Small pleats gathered between her brows. "I don't know that it's wise for us to become friends whilst you are employing me, but I appreciate your assistance."

"I'll help as long as I'm able, and I'll bring a footman who can act as the guard." Hadrian knew exactly who he would assign to the position. He'd send his coachman home shortly to fetch him. "Then I'll have a second footman join him, so there will actually be two of them here overnight."

"Thank you. I'm sure the cook and maid will be grateful." She turned toward the study. "Let us get to work. We've much to accomplish and that's just with packing things up to be moved. We shouldn't take time to look through anything. I can do that at home."

"What will your grandmother say when everything shows up at her doorstep?" he asked with a smile.

Miss Wren chuckled. "She won't like it initially, but she'll understand why it is necessary." She sobered, her features growing worried once more. "She will be distressed to hear of the attack on Vaughn. But I can't keep it from her if he's to come and stay with us."

"Would you rather he stay with me?" Hadrian offered.

Her brows shot up as her eyes rounded for a moment. "I couldn't impose on you even further. You are already helping a great deal. Besides, I think Vaughn will be more comfortable with people he knows."

Hadrian couldn't argue with that.

"I believe there are crates in the storeroom downstairs," Miss Wren said. "Would you mind fetching them?"

"Not at all." As Hadrian found his way to the servants' stairs, he wondered what the intruder had been looking for that afternoon. Since Hadrian would need to remove his gloves to help, perhaps he'd detect a clue somehow.

While he hated to encourage the terrible curse that had befallen him, he realized it was their only hope of discovering the truth. But if he did see or feel something, how would he share it with Miss Wren?