The Custom House Murders (Captain Lacey Mysteries #15) - Ashley Gardner Page 0,47

you recall.”

“He did not succeed, and now I am on my guard. I will send you word when the business is at an end.”

When Creasey was dead and gone, he meant. I thought of the wizened man sitting above his empty warehouse, surrounded by his guards, gazing longingly at the empty chessboard. I could feel sorry for Creasey, had I not seen the hard coldness in his eyes and if he’d not sent three men to kill Brewster in the middle of a Mayfair lane.

I decided to take Denis’s advice. I had Eden’s reputation to clear, in any case, plus I’d grown decidedly curious about Warrilow and why someone had crept into the house and killed him.

“Very well,” I said, giving Denis a bow. “I will keep out of the way. Thank you for explaining. Good day to you.”

Denis’s eyes widened slightly. I’d never simply obeyed him before. The glance he sent to Brewster told him to make certain I did what I claimed I would.

Denis remained standing at his desk. The butler swung open the door and ushered us out.

BY THE TIME I reached home, I was quite hungry, so I paused to have a meal. Donata had gone out, Barnstable informed me, with Lady Aline Carrington, in her coach, to make calls she claimed she could not avoid.

I knew Lady Carrington was looked after by servants as loyal as Donata’s and that she’d protect Donata like a lioness guarding its cub. This was not to say I did not worry and would breathe easier when I heard my wife’s voice floating through the house.

I convinced Brewster to return home and make certain his wife was well. He went, but only because I made a promise not to leave until he returned. I also knew Denis had stationed a man outside to guard me, though he remained discreet.

Peter was to depart this afternoon for Oxfordshire. The lad was still unhappy, Bartholomew reported, but resigned. I decided to remain home for the rest of the day so I could see the little fellow off.

I remembered being shunted away to school when I’d been about his age. The estate’s gamekeeper, a bad-tempered man who’d been perpetually half drunk, was the one who’d lifted me into the coach and threatened to thrash me if I made any trouble at school. Enough trouble to get me sent home, he meant. No one wanted me there.

I’d not let Peter remember this journey in such a light. He was not being punished or discarded but sent to safety.

After eating and visiting the children, I retired to the library and wrote to Grenville, telling him about Eden, the death of Warrilow, the ships’ passengers, and Denis’s battle with Creasey. It took much paper, and once the ink had dried, I folded it into a fat bundle, sealed it, and addressed it to Lucius Grenville at Nutgrove House, the Cotswolds, Gloucestershire.

By then, it was time for Peter to leave.

Donata had returned, Lady Carrington’s carriage halting at the front door, and our footmen and Lady Carrington’s swarming like bees around their queen to escort Donata indoors. Not long later, she and I walked Peter down from the nursery and took our farewells of him in the front hall.

Donata hugged Peter hard, never caring how it crushed the delicate silk of her gown. “You mind Hagen, now. And Jeremy.”

The footman Jeremy, a bright lad, had been trusted with Peter’s care, as had Hagen. The coachman would remain in Oxfordshire with Peter and Jeremy, and Donata, Anne, the nanny, and I would travel by a hired chaise and four.

“Yes, Mama,” Peter said dutifully as Donata released him.

He swallowed, torn between the sorrow of leaving us and the excitement of being on his own with young Jeremy and Hagen, both of whom Peter admired.

“Have a good journey.” I stuck out my hand, and Peter shook it gravely. “We’ll be along in only three days.”

“Yes, sir.” More blinking, but Peter managed not to let the tears leak out.

“You’re a brave lad, Peter.” I gave in to impulse and swept him into a bear hug. “When I arrive we will ride from dawn to dusk.”

Peter brightened at that. He loved to ride. Jeremy, waiting just inside the front door, held his hand to Peter. Peter took it, and the two marched out, Jeremy lifting Peter easily into the waiting coach.

I turned to Donata to find her face streaked with tears. “It was only last week he was no bigger than Anne,” she said