“Permit me to return one of the kegs you had delivered to Raven’s Court as decorations for my wife’s charity event.”
Simon swung the barrel down to the floor, setting it on end.
“The contents are untouched, as you must have surmised.”
Pinchbeck waved one hand in dismissal. “Leave it in the stables. Whatever you are on about, it can wait until tomorrow.We are celebrating my daughter’s betrothal. I’ll not have the night spoiled.”
“Betrothal?”
Alice blushed prettily and extended a hand with a large ring. “To Father’s partner. Mr. Freyne.”
“My condolences,” Lucien said, then looked at Freyne who stood across the room, his eyes fixed on the barrel. “Planning to celebrate with fireworks, were you?”
The girl’s worried voice cut in. “Lord Everdene, was there a problem with the barrels?”
“You might say so. Come and take a look inside.” When Lucien signaled to Simon, his brother took out the pry bar thrust in his belt, using it to open the keg’s lid.
“Alice, come here,” her father said. “We will not indulge Everdene’s nonsense?—”
“The circumstances merit close inspection, Lady Alice,” Lucien said smoothly. “Bring that candle from the table.”
She grasped the nearest candlestick and came toward him. “My lord, I assure you, I was only trying to help your wife. I felt sorry for the way my mother behaved.”
Lucien reached in to the barrel and brought up a handful of black powdery substance. He let it sift through his fingers.
The girl looked genuinely bewildered as she drew closer. “I don’t understand…The barrels were empty when Neville and I chose them.”
Five steps nearer. Six.
“Alice!” Freyne’s voice. The man’s face gleamed with sweat.
“Neville, I must make this right,” Alice insisted drawing nearer. “Grace is my friend, and?—”
“No!” White-faced, Freyne snatched the candle from her hand, blew it out.
Lucien saw the Home Secretary’s keen eyes on the proceedings. “What the devil is going on here?”
“The keg was full of gunpowder?—”
Guests gasped, shrank back.
“—as Mr. Freyne and the Lord Pinchbeck obviously knew. This, and two other kegs were placed as props for tableaux in the ballroom of my townhouse. They were delivered to Raven’s Court courtesy of my wife’s supposed friend, Lady Alice Pinchbeck. The others were so large, it seemed excessive to carry them here. However, they will be available for Lord Russell and the members of his Home Office to examine at will. Mr. Freyne coerced a desperate man to set off an explosion tonight at the charity event my wife was hosting. His goal, to murder everyone gathered at Raven’s Court.”
“What the devil?” Russell strode up to examine the keg and its contents.
“You needn’t fear,” Simon said. “We emptied the powder in this keg and replaced it with coal dust before we brought it inside so it wouldn’t explode. Unlike Freyne and Pinchbeck and whoever they are in league with, we are averse to spilling innocent blood. But when Nolan was holding a candlestick over this keg at Raven’s Court, the powder was very much alive.”
Alice stared at him, her face waxen with horror.
“Darragh Nolan, the man Freyne hired, told us everything,” Lucien said.
“I’ve never heard of this Nolan person,” Freyne sputtered. “You can’t believe some Irish scum scrambling to keep a noose from around his neck!”
Lucien pinned the lying bastard with his glare. “Witnesses saw you engage his services at the Swan and Thistle, Freyne. You gave Nolan a tin soldier wrapped in my wife’s handkerchief. The toy was sent to Raven’s Court with a threatening note—which I still possess—and I would wager, if someone at the Home Office examined it, they would see similarities to your penmanship. Asfor the handkerchief, it was at the Nolan’s home in the Seven Dials.”
“What motive could these gentlemen possibly have for such a scheme?” the Home Secretary asked.
“The goal was to trigger another Peterloo. Convince parliament that Nolan and people from the streets were responsible for the attack,” Lucien explained, then turned to his adversaries. “Pinchbeck, Freyne, you and your cohorts have been trying to incite riots for months so you could crush people who only wish for fair treatment, to feed their families.”
