The Artist's Healer - Regina Scott Page 0,70

front of the house was crowded with flowers. Some seemed to be moving. Linus blinked as he let himself in the gate, then smiled as a butterfly flitted past his face. So that was why the magistrate’s home was called Butterfly Manor.

“How might I be of assistance?” Howland asked after his secretary had shown Linus into a well-organized study with glass-fronted bookcases, a claw-footed desk, and a view down toward the cove.

No reason for roundaboutation. “I may know the identity of one of the French spies,” he said as he seated himself in the chair opposite the desk.

Howland sat straighter. “Indeed. Did you spot one of your abductors in the village?”

Linus shook his head. “Worse. I suspect he’s been hiding in plain sight at the spa.” He took a deep breath. “Allow me to sketch out my reasoning. Abigail was shot the night of July ninth. You and the militia were lying in wait for at least three fellows, who we suspect arrived on our shores shortly before then.”

James nodded. “Correct. We captured Harris, the French sympathizer, that night. By his confession, we thought there were three or four of them in the area.”

“Four,” Linus said. “The two who kidnapped me, the man who was injured, and their leader at the spa. Before I tell you who I suspect, I must know. What are the consequences if I’m wrong, and he’s innocent?”

“We can keep the matter quiet for now,” Howland said.

Linus raised his brow. “In Grace-by-the-Sea?”

Howland smiled. “I didn’t say it would be easy. But I occasionally visit the spa, as you know. A quiet conversation among three gentlemen may not be remarked upon.”

“And if he’s guilty?”

His face darkened. “Then he will be questioned and remanded into the custody of the War Office on charges of treason.”

The sodden cloak he had felt about his shoulders tightened around his neck. “Then come with me,” Linus said, “I’ll explain on the way.”

~~~

Mrs. Denby was serving tea when Linus and the magistrate reached the spa. Most of the guests smiled or nodded a welcome their way. As if she alone suspected their purpose, Mrs. Tully began a military march on the harpsichord.

Mr. Donner looked up as they approached, and Linus nodded with a pleasant smile. He led Howland to where Doctor Owens was listening to Mrs. Greer, who had apparently joined them that afternoon.

“And my eyes,” the slender blonde was complaining. “They twitch every time I go out in the sunlight. Our previous physician, Doctor Chance, told me to wear a broad-brimmed hat. Is there not a more appropriate treatment?”

“No doubt Doctor Bennett will know,” Owens said, seizing Linus’s arm and drawing him closer as if he feared to drown.

Mrs. Greer brightened. “Doctor Bennett, Magistrate. How nice that our spa has such distinguished gentlemen in attendance. I do hope we’ll have the pleasure of the earl’s company soon.”

“At his earliest convenience,” Howland assured her. “But I believe Mrs. Denby has the particulars. I’m sure she would be delighted to share them with you.”

“I will ask this very moment.” She hurried off to intercept the spa hostess.

“I pity Mrs. Denby,” Owens said, “but I appreciate your efforts to extract me from that conversation. Being a spa physician is never easy, eh, Bennett?”

“Indeed,” Linus said.

“Which is why we are here,” the magistrate said, voice and look pleasant. “There appears to be reason to believe you are not a spa physician or even English.”

Something flashed across his face, but he glanced from Howland to Linus, brows up. “What’s this? I’m English through and through.”

“But not, I think, a physician,” Linus said. “Your employment agreement at Scarborough would have to be generous indeed to allow you to be away so long, particularly during this busy season. And yesterday, you were concerned about Mrs. Rand’s heart when it was clearly her lungs involved.”

He waved a hand. “I cannot be expected to issue accurate diagnoses under such primitive conditions as the middle of a crisis, sir. And if I were not a spa physician, why would I take up so much of your time?”

“I’d like to know the answer to that question as well,” Howland said. “Were you trying to determine the defenses of Grace-by-the-Sea or merely using the spa to hide? Or attempting to identify Doctor Bennett’s capabilities so you could kidnap him to tend your cohorts?”

“Tend my cohorts?” Once more he glanced from Howland to Linus, and this time his face reddened. “See here, sir. One might think you were accusing me of being a French agent.”

“If