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Ten
“More of a queue than I was expecting,” Lavender murmured as he peeked behind the coach’s curtain. “I have a feeling you’re the guest of honor and the evening’s entertainment,” he added with a hard look at Reginald. Paul was seated next to him and had been tense. He had warned Reginald as well but he didn’t share their unease.
“All eyes are on you now after the way you’ve been behaving,” Paul said and Lavender hummed.
“Winterstone doesn’t like that you’ve been making inquiries and that you’ve enlisted our help,” he said as he watched the traffic around the townhouse Lord Winterstone was renting. It was located in an area that was less fashionable than Grosvenor but popular with visiting diplomats and well-heeled bachelors.
“Does he?” Reginald asked, his tone pointed. “How does he know and how do you know?” He added. Lavender released the curtain and folded his hands in his lap.
“I told you before, I was hired to observe Lord Winterstone.”
“By Lord Coonan,” Reginald guessed and Paul gasped.
“Lord Coonan hired you?” A bark of sarcastic laughter burst from Paul as he slapped his knee. “I don’t know why I’m surprised,” he said. Reginald shushed him, they had to be close to the front of the line.
“The Coonans and Lord Winterstone are neighbors and their families have been close for generations,” Reginald began. “Winterstone’s put Coonan in a difficult position. He will have to support Winterstone’s call for independence, risking arrest and exile, or he will have to turn on a kinsman and his own country. Lavender will kill Winterstone if Lord Coonan and his peers can’t talk him down and reason with him.”
Lavender bowed his head. “I can’t decide if you’re helping me or hindering me yet, but you’ve got Lord Winterstone’s attention now, as well as the ton’s, with this idea you have about him or Sir Francis being a murderer.”
“They both are,” Reginald stated. Lavender held up his gloved hands and shrugged.
“While unfortunate, those girls are just a distraction as far as I’m concerned. Lord Coonan is worried about the fate of his career and maintaining unity. He’s paying me a lot of money to watch Lord Winterstone and Sir Francis and act if they should do anything that might damage Lord Coonan’s position.”
There was a long whistle from Paul as he shook his head. “What’s the future of a country without its girls?” He asked, barely masking his disgust. “Six young women are dead and you ‘men’ worry about yourselves and your careers.”
“Then hire me to find their killer,” Lavender said simply. “I cannot put out every fire in this city. No more than you can. Like you, I have a duty to the person who hired me. And unlike me, you were hired to find the killer.”
“Killers,” Reginald corrected, then held up his hands when Lavender and Paul scowled at him.
“Needless to say,” Lavender said as his attention flicked back to Paul. “You appear to have that in hand. Now that you’ve got Marston to do your work for you,” he added under his breath. Reginald’s hand shot out, bracing Paul before he could dive at Lavender.
“I would love to tell you all the reasons why I don’t care about any of this but we’re here,” Reginald said. “It’s showtime!”
The coach rocked to a halt just before the door was opened. Reginald hopped out first, feeling rather dashing in George’s sleekest tuxedo. Lavender had loaned Reginald a stylish silk floral vest and a matching necktie and handkerchief. An orchid was pinned to Reginald’s lapel but he had a feeling it wasn’t his ensemble that was turning heads as he waded into Lord Winterstone’s front hall. The townhouse was packed. Rows of chairs were arranged in the sitting room but every seat was taken and bodies lined the walls.
The chatter fell to a low hum as Reginald strolled in with Paul and Lavender flanking him. Fans were deployed and necks craned as everyone tried to get a better look. Reginald raised a brow at them before sweeping into a low, formal bow.
“Get up!” Lavender ordered out of the side of his mouth.
“This isn’t good,” Paul whispered as he passed Lavender a program. Lavender snatched it and swore as soon as his eyes touched the page. He handed it to Reginald but he didn’t need to read it as a piano began to play at the front of the room and a stunningly gorgeous woman opened her mouth to sing. The high, keening opening note of an Italian tragedy spilled from Guilia Anastasia and Reginald grabbed onto Paul as he doubled over with laughter.
“Fuck, this is boring!” He announced and threw a hand at Anastasia and the piano. She kept singing to her credit, but there was a wave of hisses and boos directed at Reginald. Lord Winterstone was standing just to the left of the piano and was whispering furiously in O’Leary’s ear before the younger man disappeared through the door behind them. “I could use a drink,” Reginald said, then turned on his heel and chased after a footman with a tray of champagne flutes. Paul and Lavender were right behind him.
“I might do it for free if Winterstone asks me to kill you,” Lavender growled in Reginald’s ear, making him snicker.
“Why would he when he has Sir Francis for that?” He asked and raised his glass like a snotty brat before taking several gulps. “Why do you think Winterstone paid the bribes for O’Leary’s knighthood? What better way to keep your favorite bodyguard and hitman close?”
Lavender raised his glass in agreement. “Most likely. O’Leary’s mother is Lord Winterstone’s cousin and he would feel obliged. It would be natural for him to throw his support behind the young man.” He didn’t sip from it, though. Like the real Lavender, this Lavender used glasses and tea cups as props. Paul was drinking and he was seething as he sipped and watched the crowd around them.
“I told you this was a trap,” he said. Reginald tapped the side of his nose as he stepped closer to Paul.
“It’s hardly a trap. He’s invited half of London to watch him shoot himself in the foot. I just called his bluff and everyone will be waiting to see what he does about it.” He finished his champagne and traded glasses with Lavender, leaving the assassin momentarily speechless. “You weren’t going to drink it,” Reginald whispered at him.
“You should worry about what he’s going to do about it,” Lavender said flatly but Reginald waved it off.
“Who cares?”
“I do,”Paul stated, his eyes hard as they pinned Reginald’s.
