"Did she come to England alone?"
"Her son was with her, but I've no idea how old he was."
"Did he work here, too?"
"Yes. I don't know much about him, only that he had quite an affinity for horses and worked in the stables all his life. It's such a lovely thing to have the same family in service for multiple generations in the same household, don't you think?"
"Quite. Did Jeanne have any family other than her son?"
"She had two brothers, but they both died long before she did."
"Did Joseph have close ties to anyone in the household? Any friends?"
"I wouldn't know, Lady Ashton. You're welcome to ask the butler, but I'm certain no one knows how to reach him. As I told you, my husband tried."
"Could I borrow this, Mrs. Sinclair?" I asked, holding up the Bible. "I think I might be able to contact Joseph. I'll bring it back, of course."
"I'd be thrilled if you could find him and get the entire box out of the house," Mrs. Sinclair said. "It's very awkward storing legacies for other people, don't you think?"
I could hardly contain my excitement when I was back in my carriage. Sebastian Capet must be Jeanne's wayward son, and if, as I suspected, he was the true heir to the House of Bourbon, his motivation for the thefts was perfectly clear. I could well believe that Mr. Francis knew this. It might even explain his hesitation to report the theft of the pink diamond. Jeanne had confided in him, and he was loath to send her son, a man who in other circumstances might have been a king, to prison. But I still wondered at his letter to Charles Berry. Had he warned Berry of possible exposure? And if so, why?
The road must have been bad, because I was being jostled with such ferocity that it was nearly impossible to keep straight the thoughts in my head. I looked out the window and saw that my driver had moved to the side to let a rider approaching from behind pass us, which it did with most impressive speed. Once it was gone, our ride became smoother but only for a short while. All of a sudden, I heard Waters shouting at the horses. One of them shrieked, and the carriage lurched violently, throwing me against the door. The latch gave way, and I fell out onto the ground.
Waters managed to stop the horses and leapt from his seat. The footmen, who rode standing on the back of the carriage, had jumped clear as we headed off the road and reached me first, helping me up.
"Are you all right, madam?" Waters asked, doing his best to keep his voice steady.
"I think so," I said. "What happened?"
"There was a man on the side of the road. When we got close to him, he drew out a horse whip and struck Aziza across the face. She reared up and startled Hadia. I could hardly control them."
"Where did the man go?" I asked, my heart pounding so violently that I could hardly breathe.
"He had a horse with him, madam. Must've been the gent who passed us just a minute ago. There's no sign of him now. I'd wager that he rode away through the woods."
"You drove magnificently, Waters. I'm amazed that we didn't flip."
While the three men inspected our carriage, I took stock of my injuries. Although I was bruised and dirty, nothing seemed broken, but I could not stop shaking. Waters concluded that everything was in fine working order, and we headed back to London, where, once home, I walked stiffly past Davis as he held the door open for me.
"I can see you want to scold me, Davis," I said. "I assure you that Mr. Hargreaves would find no fault with what I've done." I made my way upstairs and called Meg to help me undress. She was horrified at the condition of my gown and terrified when she heard what had happened, but did not let this get in the way of her efficiency. She sent for tea and prepared a hot bath. I soaked for more than half an hour, knowing that I was likely to feel worse the following day as my bruises developed.
The word of my adventure spread quickly through the household. When the tray arrived from the kitchen, it held not only tea but chicken broth, Cook's panacea for all things dreadful, fresh cut flowers from the garden, a glass of port, and a copy of Great Expectations, which I imagine had been randomly selected from the library by some well-intentioned member of my staff. I applied myself at once to the chicken broth, not because I was particularly hungry but because I had no wish to hurt Cook's feelings by sending it back untouched. Meg tapped on the door.
"Mrs. Brandon is here, madam. Would you like her sent up?"
"Please." I had finished the broth and moved from the table to my bed, where I sat on top of the covers, leaning against the pillows. It was obvious from Ivy's expression that someone had told her about the accident. She rushed to me, sitting on the edge of the bed, biting her lip so hard I thought it would bleed.
"What on earth is going on? You must stop, Emily. You must make sure that you are no longer putting yourself in danger."
"It's not so simple, Ivy," I said. "There's too much at stake."
"Well, that needn't be your concern. Tell the police what you've learned, and remove yourself from the investigation."
"I don't yet know enough to set them on the proper course."
"You're going to get yourself killed. And for what?"
"To keep an innocent woman from being hanged. To prevent a liar from causing the overthrow of a peaceful government."
"Leave it to Colin, then. Why must you insist on doing it yourself?"
I looked at her face, which was filled with a tortured confusion. "Because it's important, Ivy, because I like it, and because I think I'm good at it. I'll be perfectly all right."
"It's selfish, Emily. Selfish. Here I am half-crazed with worry over you, and you dismiss my concern. I know you're clever, I know you're good at what you do. But why can't you leave these things to the people who are supposed to take care of them? You'll hate me for saying it, but it...it...it doesn't become a lady."
"I'm sure my reputation as a lady will come as a great comfort to Jane Stilleman in the hours before her execution."
"You're not the only person capable of solving this, Emily. Haven't enough bad things happened to convince you that you're placing yourself in too much danger?"
"I promised Colin that I would take no unnecessary risks. He made no attempt to stop me."
"I suppose I'm just not as smart as the two of you because I don't see why your involvement is so crucial. I understand that you like the adventure of it, but this is no longer a fun sort of game. Someone is trying to kill you."
"I think you're rather exaggerating things, Ivy."
"Maybe I am, but maybe, Emily, I'm right. Not that you'd listen even if I was. I wonder how you would respond if Margaret said the same things."
Now it was I who bit a lip. I wanted to say that Margaret would make no attempt to stop me, that Margaret would buckle down and help me solve the puzzle, even if there was danger involved. But I had no desire to hurt Ivy, especially now, when she hardly even sounded like herself. I could only assume that things between her and Robert were getting no better.
"I'm sorry, Ivy. I don't mean to dismiss your concerns."
"I know that you and Margaret don't take me seriously. I suppose I ought to try to be the sort of friend to you that she is, but I don't want to. I only wish that things would return to how they used to be, before either of us was married, when you were satisfied with being happy. I think that you now prefer challenge to contentedness."
"Is that so wrong?"
"It is when you ask your friends to sit back and watch you throw yourself in harm's way."
"I'm not asking you to sit back."
"You know full well that there's nothing else I can do." She clasped her hands in her lap and fixed her gaze on them. "I apologize for arguing with you after you've had such a frightening experience. It was wrong of me."
"Ivy — "
"I must go. Robert's at Westminster and will expect me to be home when he returns."