“Here we are.” Daniel pulled open a door and helped me up into the train carriage. A first-class compartment once again. My head would be turned by all this luxury. “Mind your skirts, darling. Where is that boy?”
James loped along the corridor and entered the compartment. He heaved the bag to the shelf above and slammed the door, shutting us in to privacy.
“Want me with you, Dad?” James asked it with a tone of one who would rather be elsewhere. The plush luxury of a first-class car filled with two well-dressed adults was likely not what he thought of as excitement.
“Explore as you like, but stay out of trouble.” Daniel gave him a father’s frown. “I do not want the conductor tossing me off the train because you decided to climb on top of it. You have a third-class ticket if you want to take a seat, or you can come back here.”
James grinned. “Right. I’m off. It ain’t far, so no time for me to do much.” He slammed open the door to the corridor and rushed out. Daniel closed it gently behind him, and then we were alone.
16
Daniel regarded me across the compartment in silence. A whistle blew, a man on the platform waved a flag, and the train jerked forward. Soon we were chugging steadily free of the station, a wave of smoke and steam blanketing the windows and cutting off the outside world.
“It is not like you to say nothing for such a stretch of time,” I said as the train gained speed and the smoke cleared a bit, showing we rattled through the suburbs. “You are usually chattering away before you have even said good day.”
“Forgive me.” Daniel made a mock bow in his seat. “I am admiring the lavish beauty I see before me. It has stolen my breath.”
My face heated, though I knew he teased. “Fine feathers make a fine bird.” I waved my gloved hand dismissively. “Miss Townsend was clever to find the gown for me.”
“Miss Townsend has great flair for the art of costuming. The stage lost a talent in her. When she assisted me in Paris, she played the empty-headed wealthy hostess without flaw. She knew exactly how to present you.”
“As an empty-headed widow from Holland?” I sent him a smile. “You are flattering.”
“And you are lovely.” Daniel said the words in all seriousness. “Thank you for helping me.”
I shifted uncomfortably, wishing my giddy gladness would vanish. I should not let Daniel’s praise please me so.
“I am attending this garden party to deter debutants eager to hunt down a husband,” I said. “I am not merely helping you; I am saving your life.”
Daniel laughed. “That you are. Remind me to be in your debt forever.” He broke off as the conductor entered to check our tickets.
I noted that the conductor kept his manner deferential, taking both tickets from Daniel and barely glancing at them before handing them back with a bow. He tipped his hat to me and withdrew. Very different from a conductor who jerked open the door of a third-class compartment, snapping, “Ticket, missus,” before slamming the door and continuing on his weary duties.
I was the same person, and yet in this dress and hat with a young man to handle the tickets for me, I suddenly deserved the conductor’s politeness. It made one think.
“While we have a few moments to ourselves,” Daniel said, “let me tell you what you will need to know to survive this day.”
My name would be Katharine Holtmann, he said, widow of a Dutch businessman I’d married only a few years before he’d died of illness. I’d met Daniel—whose name for this sojourn was Mr. Lancaster—in Amsterdam through my late husband when Daniel had done business there. I could be vague about what business, because I didn’t bother myself with the technicalities of what my husband had done. “Shipping” would cover many possibilities.
Daniel and I were now affianced, but we had not set a wedding date. I, the young widow, was enjoying my freedom and inherited wealth, and young Mr. Lancaster wasn’t certain he was ready to settle down.
“Plausible,” I said when he’d finished. “As long as no one digs too deeply.”
“I’ve already fed the duke and duchess much about Mr. Lancaster’s background. The man I am supposed to be cousin to is conveniently in the wilds of Canada. By the time anyone inquires—if they bother—I hope this business to be over, and it will no longer matter.”
I spoke in a near whisper. “Do you truly believe the duke had something to do with those terrible murders?”
“I do now.” Daniel was somber. “Though what I believe doesn’t matter. I need proof. He’s a duke, which is not only the highest title of the aristocracy, but his family is distinguished, containing many soldiers who fought bravely in wars throughout history. His family was given the title by Queen Anne, for valor under the Duke of Marlborough against Louis XIV.”
“Not a man you can simply arrest and bang up in Bow Street nick, then.”
“You have grasped the problem. If I prove he funded the murders in Ireland, it’s treason, but making it stick will be the devil of a thing. Even if the charges do take, he’ll likely be let off by those who can’t afford to let him embarrass them. Exile will be the worst thing the duke suffers, and it won’t be official exile.”
I could see Daniel was unhappy about this, and my own anger stirred. If a man’s support and money led to the brutal deaths of others, should he not pay? It was the same situation as the conductor behaving politely to me while I rode in a first-class carriage in an expensive frock, and dismissing me when I rode third-class in my working-class garb.
“I will try to help as much as I can,” I told Daniel.
He viewed me in alarm. “You will do nothing today but say polite inanities to the duchess and her guests. No tearing through the duke’s home searching for incriminating documents.”
“I had no intention of doing so,” I said loftily, though truth to tell, I had already been thinking of ways I might slip into the house and find something that had eluded Daniel.
“For heaven’s sake, Kat, do nothing. These are men who thought nothing of striking down well-known gentlemen in broad daylight in a public park.”
“I saw the story in the newspapers.” I shivered. “It was gruesome. I do promise to take care.”
“You don’t, you know.” Daniel adjusted the curtain against a beam of sunlight that struck his eyes. “Take care, I mean. You should leave the problem of the poisoner to Inspector McGregor, but I know you won’t.”
“His hands are tied, as you told me. So are yours. That leaves mine free.”
Daniel’s voice turned hard, and he flicked the curtain from his hand. “It doesn’t have to have anything to do with you.”