He made a face, thought about it, opened the door wide, and walked back into the chamber. Minerva followed. The odor assaulted her so badly she almost reached for her handkerchief. Instead she braved it out and picked her way amidst the alarming trash covering the floor. She stopped ten feet into the chamber and noted with some relief that the door remained open, letting in better air.
“In my interest, you say.” Mr. Marin faced her from the end of the chamber. “Unless you know of an inheritance, there’s not much you can say in my interest.”
“That is not true. You will perhaps be astonished to learn that your cousin Mrs. Jeffers is looking for you. She wants to reconcile.” She smiled brightly, and waited for his joy to break forth.
His eyes narrowed. “She sent you?”
“She did. She engaged me to find you.”
“Wasn’t enough to ruin me, now she has to run me to ground, eh? What if I don’t want to be found? Ever think of that?”
“There are times a person does not want that. However, this is family. Surely having family again is better than this.” She gazed around the chamber in dismay.
“Suits me.” He paced, agitated and angry. “You are a troublemaker, nothing more. Trouble for me, that’s certain. My cousin is not looking to grasp me to the bosom of family, woman. She’s hoping to finish what she started, and what brought me here.”
He was not making sense, but clearly he did not welcome this intrusion. The drink had all but deranged him, and she would only make it worse. “I will leave you, since you are content as you are.” She turned and walked toward the door.
“The hell you will. I’ll not have you telling her where I am.”
Her instincts screamed in warning. She turned to see a blur of movement. A blow landed on her head, one so hard that she staggered. Shock immobilized her. The door slammed, blocking her.
The next time, fight back. She held her balance, barely. She reached into her reticule. He came at her, crazed, with what looked like a chair leg raised above his shoulder. She saw him through blood, and almost swooned. Finding some strength, she stepped forward and raked his face with her hatpins.
Her vision blurring, she left him howling and pulled open the door. She staggered out of the building before her legs turned to liquid. She landed on her rump in the middle of the street. Her last thought was that she would probably get trampled by a carriage.
* * *
Chase sat in the library that served as his office, plotting his thoughts on paper. He pretended he was writing a report in the army, and lined up the facts and evidence accordingly. Even as he did it he could see certain holes. He did not anticipate much trouble filling them. He knew how it had all happened. Knew in ways that facts would never prove.
A racket down below barely penetrated his concentration. When it moved up to his own door he gave it his attention. Brigsby hurried to the door, not pleased. Moments later Jeremy barged into the library.
“You must come at once. There can be no delay. I’ve a carriage outside waiting.”
Jeremy looked as if the French army was at the closest tollgate. Ashen-faced, he stared, wide-eyed and fearful, and looked much like the boy he had recently been.
“It is Minerva. She has been hurt. She was—”
One moment of shock, then Chase moved fast. He sped past him. “Tell me on the way.”
They jumped in the carriage and Chase told the coachman to use all possible speed. The carriage shook enough to prove his command had been heard.
“What in hell happened?”
Jeremy licked his lips. “They brought her to the house. Carried her in. She has a wound to the head. There is a lot of blood.”
“Who brought her? Where did they find her?”
“I wasn’t there. Mum said she had her cards in her reticule and they brought her to that address. A wagon, I think. Mum is tending to her and sent me for you when I returned. Said to tell you she was attacked while on an inquiry.”
He opened the trapdoor and told the coachman to go faster. “She was on a dangerous inquiry alone? Why didn’t you go with her?”
“I wasn’t there. I was helping at the stables today. They asked me to come because one of their men—so I wasn’t there. Mum said she received a letter in the post, and set out soon after breakfast. An easy end to it, she said to mum. She didn’t think it would be dangerous. She wouldn’t have gone alone if she did.”
The worst danger was when you don’t expect it. “Who did this? Is the letter still in the house?”
“I don’t know.” Jeremy steadied his voice and his gaze. “She isn’t stupid, or careless. If you think to upbraid her, you can get out now.”
Was this pup scolding him? He almost snarled back a curse, but caught himself. None of them, least of all Minerva, needed him with his blood up. That could wait for another time, and another person. “All that matters is that she has the best care, and recovers.”
The coach careened down streets and around crossroads. He and Jeremy swayed. When it finally stopped on Rupert Street they both were out in an instant. “Wait here,” Chase called to the coachman over his shoulder.
“Where is she?” Chase asked while they ran up to the door.
“Library.”
He paused outside the library, calming himself so he would not look like a madman. He turned the latch and entered.
Beth sat by the divan, looking down on its cushions. He walked around its back to see Minerva lying there, pale and half undressed. A bloody bonnet had been thrown to the floor, and a ruined gray pelisse draped a nearby chair. A compress covered her forehead and a bowl of water rested in a little puddle on the floor.
“Head wound,” Beth said. “They bleed a lot. I’ve stopped it, and put on a poultice. I expect there will be a scar. It was a bad wound, Mr. Radnor. Ugly. Like someone had taken a club to her.”
He pulled over a wooden chair and sat beside Beth. Jeremy hovered behind the divan. “Where did they find her?” He touched Minerva’s limp hand. It felt too cool.
“Out on the street. Smack in the middle of it. She was seen sitting there, then she fell over. They thought she was drunk, until someone noticed the blood. She still had these in her hand.” She reached to the chair with the pelisse and lifted two long hatpins. “Must have used them on whoever did this to her, and gotten herself away.”
He gazed at those tiny foils. Good for you, Minerva. “Has she opened her eyes?”
“A bit, a few times. I think she is sleeping, not unconscious. She recognized me. I take that to be a good sign. Them that brought her said she seemed unconscious at first, but stirred while in the wagon.”
Head wounds could be dangerous, with the damage invisible. The blood on Minerva’s face and clothing was the least of it. “I am going to send for an army surgeon, Beth. They see more of such things than anyone else. I’ll have a physician come too.”
Beth removed the compress and dipped it in the water again. “I thought I was done with this. I thought I’d never see it again.”
He grasped her shoulder by way of comfort, then went to the writing table. He jotted off a hurried note and called Jeremy over. “Take the carriage outside and bring this to the Duke of Hollinburgh on Park Lane. Make it clear to the servants that it is from me and that he must receive it at once. Wait to see if he needs you. If not, when you return tell the coachman to wait again.” He plucked some coin from his pocket. “Use what you need with him.”