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Bertram’s brow rose. “You’re military?”
“Aye, 3rd Infantry, sir.”
Bertram nodded thoughtfully even as he flicked a glance at Letty. She was watching him with wide eyes and nodded subtly to indicate that yes, the voice did indeed match.
Bertram turned to the shorter man. “And your companion?” he asked Horace.
“This is Sir Bentley,” the other man lifted his head, beady eyes blinking at Bertram. His face was ruddy and filled with liver spots, his countenance dour. He did not look at all familiar to Bertram.
He bowed formally. “Your servant, Sir. Are you also attached to the 3rd Infantry?”
The man grunted. “Course not. Too old.”
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Letty jerk with surprise although she quickly hid it. “Ah, yes. I don’t know what I was thinking. Do you live in Folkestone or are you visiting from London?”
The man narrowed his eyes, answering grudgingly. “I own a pretty piece of land on the other side of the downs.”
“Oh,” Bertram nodded. “Here I thought I knew all the noblemen who lived in the village.”
“I am no nobleman.”
“Oh? Forgive me but your companion called you ‘sir’.”
“Yes, well…’tis out of respect, you understand.”
Bertram nodded, noting the man's shifty eyes, his continuous grimaces and his fidgeting hands. He could not believe what a poor liar the man was. Nevertheless, he decided to act as if he believed him.
“Well, you’re welcome to the soiree. Thank you for joining us in the celebration of our upcoming nuptials.”
Sir Bentley merely grunted again, looking pained. The taller gentleman gave a stiff bow and Bertram and Letty moved on. Letty pressed close to his side. “Those are most definitely the voices I heard plotting your demise,” she hissed.
“Very well then, let’s be calm. We do not want them to know that we suspect anything. I shall have two of my men follow them in addition to Wellington’s. Wewillfind out what they’re about.”
He turned to her as they stood in an alcove, momentarily shielded from their guests. “Did their names sound at all familiar to you?”
She blinked at him. “You mean have I heard of them in my work?”
“Yes, exactly.”
“No, I have not. But that means nothing. Many in my trade do not mention their names or go about socializing with each other.”
Bertram huffed in amusement. “I don’t suppose they do. We will just have to get my man to investigate them further. Meanwhile, let us socialize and learn as much as we can.”
“Yes, all right. I shall go and stand by the gossiping older women. They’re always the best sources of information.”
Bertram smiled. “Good luck. I’m off to the card tables.” They both went their separate ways, Bertram watching as Letty sashayed her way across the room, a tentative smile on her face. She took her place just behind a group of twittering women, leaning against the wall with folded her hands in front of her. Bertram knew she would not be allowed to stand for too long before someone came around hoping to fill her dance card.
He decided not to worry about her but go on his way and try to learn as much as he could about the duo of Bentley and Johnson and just how and why they would want to kill him.
* * *
Letty looked around her, pretending to be enjoying the orchestra as she leant her ear to the gossip being peddled to her left. She did not know the old ladies in question but could tell that they were mostly Londoners by the guardedly polite contempt they held for the country. The lack of vibrancy of the town was brought up a time or two as well as the very limited activities on offer.
Letty sighed inwardly, wondering if they would say anything useful.
“Oh, there she is. Walking with her nose in the air as if she truly is a noblewoman. You have to wonder how long she thinks she will get away with it.”
Letty’s eyes darted about wondering who they were speaking of.
