Page 39 of Only Pleasure Will Do

“Sir Reginald, you sent for me?” Mrs. Dove bustled into the room, making a beeline for him. “Who is this lovely child? Do you want to come to me, sweetkins?”

Something about the older woman must’ve been familiar, because when she held her arms out, Pearl went willingly to the housekeeper.

“Her name is Pearl.” As he hadn’t asked Maddy what surname she’d given the child, he would say no more now. “Can you take her please, Mrs. Dove? She must be starving.”

“As you are yourself, I’ll wager, Sir Reginald. I’ll bring you some dinner here as well.” The woman turned away, carrying the child with her.

“Don’t bother, Mrs. Dove. I’m going out this minute.” He had no appetite now. Not until he discovered what had actually happened at Dunham House would he be able to focus on anything else, including food. “Mr. Carruthers, have you or anyone else spoken to anyone from Dunham House? A servant perhaps? Someone who put up the alarm?”

“Not a person, no, sir.” The Runner shook his head. “A note came by a footman, but the man merely handed it to Tomkins, wheeled about, and left. After reading it, Mr. Tomkins tapped Mr. Bray and the two of them went off as fast as they could. I suppose by now they’ve spoken to whoever sent the message.”

“As I shall also do as soon as I arrive.” Reginald opened a drawer, rummaged around, and produced his set of lock picks, which he pocketed. “If any other word comes regarding this matter, please bring it to me at Dunham House. And if you see or hear anything from a Madam Vestry,” Reginald paused, hating himself but unable to do anything differently, then continued, “detain her here and send for me immediately. She’s wanted for questioning in the matter.”

Clearly taken aback, Carruthers stared at him for several moments before summoning a choked, “Yes, Sir Reginald.”

Pulling his cloak around him, Reginald made his way back outside and swung up onto Marlow. “I promise you a bed and plenty of hay and oats at the end of this, old boy.”

They started off at a brisk trot, weaving in and out of London’s thick evening traffic as hundreds of workers, tradesmen, and aristocrats made their way home for the night. If only he could’ve been one of them. Hoping against hope that somehow Katarina and Duncan had been spared from Redmond’s infernal scheme, he at last saw an open patch of road and set Marlow to a brisk canter. It brought him quickly to the front of Dunham House, where people milled about like ants when their anthill’s been crushed by a careless boot.

Reginald pulled Marlow up and gave him into the hands of a footman with instructions to take him to the stable and feed and water him. He then approached the door and knocked. A somewhat longer time than usual elapsed before the door was opened by a footman.

“May I help you, sir?” The liveried footman gazed at him suspiciously.

“Sir Reginald Matthews of Bow Street. Where is Grayson?” If anyone knew what the devil was going on, it would be Dalbury’s butler.

“Beg your pardon, Sir Reginald. Come this way please.” The footman opened the door and led Reginald through the house that, though eerily silent, seemed more or less normal to him. They passed through the house to the kitchen in the rear where Reginald found Grayson sitting in front of the fireplace, his hands twitching, his head lowered. Tomkins and Bray stood behind him, their faces a glum foretelling of Grayson’s tidings.

“Grayson, by all that is holy, tell me what’s happened here.”

The butler’s head shot up so quickly it popped. “Sir Reginald.”

Damned if the man didn’t look like he’d seen a ghost. “Where are the marquess and marchioness?”

“Begging your pardon, Sir Reginald, but I…I don’t rightly know.” The unflappable Grayson had gone. The man who sat before Reginald had been shaken to his bones by the events of the evening.

“There was an explosion? Where?”

“Out in the garden, sir.”

That was odd. Maddy’s instructions had been to give the device to Kat and have her take it inside to the nursery. Had Maddy found a way to mitigate the damage? Even spare the couple, perhaps? “And were Lord and Lady Dalbury there when the explosion occurred?”

Grayson stared into Reginald’s eyes, confusion evident on his face. Finally, the butler nodded. “Yes, Sir Reginald. They were. It was horrible.” The butler dropped his head into his hands.

All the strength threatened to run out of Reginald’s legs, and he stumbled forward before catching himself on a bench that had been drawn up before the fire. “The baby?” If the couple had been outside, chances were that the babe had been in its nursery. Lord God, let something remain of his cousin.

“My lady had him out there with her, sir. It is purely heartbreaking.” Yet the man, who’d been in Dalbury’s employ since before Duncan’s father had died, truly did not seem as grief stricken as Reginald would’ve thought. Of course, he might still be stunned and unable to feel the grief that must be devastating to him.

Reginald clasped Grayson’s shoulder. “We will find the person who did this fiendish deed, Grayson. They will pay for it with their own life, I swear it.” Although he thought first of Tommy Redmond, the same sentiment would hold true for Maddy, God help him. He still could not believe she’d gone through with it. About to leave the kitchen to head out into the blasted remains of the garden, Reginald removed his hand from Grayson, but the butler grasped his hand instead and peered into his face.

“You should visit Lord Manning, Sir Reginald. He will be needing your report about what went on here.”

“Does Lord Manning not know about the explosion?” It had been bad enough to find out himself about his cousin’s demise. To have to be the one to tell Manning of his sister and nephew’s deaths was cruel beyond belief.

“No, Lord Manning knows.” Grayson looked at him with wild eyes. “Lord Manning knows, Sir Reginald. Go speak to him.”

“I will, Grayson.” Grief was settling in on the older man. “I must inspect the yard, but I will go to Lord Manning, I swear it.”

The butler nodded and seemed to relax into his chair.