Page 43 of A Silence in Belgrave Square (Below Stairs #8)

Lady Fontaine rose in surprise as we hovered on the threshold. “Mrs.Crowe?” she said to me in amazement. “Marjory? Where did you get to? And who is this urchin?”

“Come away with me, your ladyship,” Hannah said, holding out a hand and ignoring Lady Fontaine’s disparagement of her son. “It ain’t healthy in here. We’ll get you far away.”

Lady Fontaine’s eyes sparkled. “Nonsense. Lord Downes and I are eloping. It is quite exciting, though scandalous, I know. We will live in Paris a while until the fervor dies down.”

“He has no intention of marrying you, Lady Fontaine,” I broke in.

“I would guess he is taking you with him, because what could be more innocuous than a proper lady and gentleman journeying to the docks in Dover?” I turned to Lord Downes.

“Are you waiting for the bombs your lackeys have planted to go off? Hoping that in the confusion, the police will not notice you slipping away?”

“Bombs?” Lady Fontaine asked in bewilderment. “What are you talking about? Lord Downes uses this dynamite on his estate, to clear out the burrowing animals from his fields. He told me.”

“The police know about them,” I said, keeping Lord Downes and his lit pipe in my view. “They have the locations of all the devices supposed to go off today and will render them harmless. You’ve lost this round.”

I spoke with confidence I did not feel. I had no doubt that Inspector McGregor, Daniel, and Monaghan and his men would make certain the explosives were found, but I could not say whether Lord Downes would set off the dynamite in this room in a moment of madness.

My hope was that he wanted only to get away and had no intention of topping himself, but he might light the stick he held if he became desperate.

Not only would the dynamite end him, the blast would kill the rest of us, and if the lot went off, this side of Belgrave Square would become a smoking hole in the street.

I was fairly certain Lord Downes did mean to detonate the piles around him, perhaps using a slow match to give himself time to get away.

The collapse of the house would bury evidence of his crimes, but inhabitants of the houses along this row, along with anyone walking or driving by outside, would be hurt or killed.

Meanwhile, Lord Downes would escape to France, either ridding himself of Lady Fontaine along the way or finding a way to do it once he was on the Continent.

He’d have left Hannah tied up in the room below, ensuring she was the first person to die.

The last thought made me furious. “If you name the conspirators to the police, they will possibly be more lenient to you,” I said in a hard voice. “You are a peer of the realm and won’t have to scrabble for your bread in Newgate. The police only want to stop the bombings.”

“What I’m doing will be considered treason,” Lord Downes said with eerie calmness. “I don’t think they’ll go easy on me, young woman, whoever you are.”

“Why are you helping the Fenians?” I countered. “Are you Irish? I quite understand their cause, but—”

Lord Downes snorted a laugh. “I’m no Fenian.

I’m from Bedfordshire, born and bred. My family were here before the Normans.

” He regarded me with arrogance in his small, dark eyes.

“But this country has gone to hell. So-called British gentlemen swarming over the world, riding roughshod over anyone in their way. It’s embarrassing.

Not because they want to bestow Christianity on these nations and give them railways and so forth.

It’s so they can grab tea, cotton cloth, and opium without having to pay fortunes for them.

The so-called empire is a disgrace. Home Rule.

” He snorted again. “More pompous gents pretending to give Irishmen what they want while still holding the reins. Ireland’s a powder keg ready to go off.

Might as well give them a leg up.” He brandished the dynamite with a chilling smile.

“Blowing up everyone at home isn’t likely to change that,” I said rapidly. “You’re in the House of Lords. You can introduce bills or whatever it is you do to stop those who are running roughshod.”

“You are a stupid woman,” Lord Downes informed me.

“You can have no idea what difficulty it is to bring legislation to a body of gentlemen who care for nothing but reposing in soft chairs in their clubs with the best brandy. A few explosions will gain their attention. That and having their womenfolk who are no better than they ought to be leverage the slovenly lords to do whatever I wish.”

“Told ya he were mad,” Hannah muttered.

“Well,” I said in what I hoped was a reasonable tone. “I quite understand. If you want to flee to France and obliterate part of Belgrave Square, I can hardly stop you. I ask only that you allow us to take Lady Fontaine away and warn the inhabitants of the surrounding houses to clear out first.”

“You three can run if you like,” Lord Downes said. “Lady Fontaine stays with me. She’s up to her neck in my schemes, and if she remains in London, I will make certain everyone knows what she’s done and why.”

Lady Fontaine stared at him in confusion. “In your schemes? Cyril? What are you talking about?”

“You used her information to write the blackmail letters,” I stated. “Probably collected it over the years, every time she came to visit her brother. Your groom told me you let her speak to you almost nonstop.”

Lord Downes sent me a faint smile. “She knows so many whose husbands, brothers, and fathers are in the cabinet and high government positions—the gentlemen who guide Britain’s policies.

Dear Mary told me all the scandalous secrets of their wives, sisters, and daughters.

I kept it all cataloged, knowing it would come in handy one day. ”

Color drained from Lady Fontaine’s face. She was not the cleverest of women, but it was at last dawning on her that Lord Downes’s attentions to her were less than honest.

Astonishment was quickly followed by anger and humiliation. “You horrible little man,” she exclaimed.

Lord Downes ignored her. “It is sad how many great men have women who betray and belittle them, who have secrets that would topple them if known.”

“Did you truly believe blackmailing their wives would help you?” I asked, my skepticism evident. “That they would harangue their husbands to put policies in place that would make you happy? That Miss Townsend would actually beg her father to tell the police to cease investigating?”

Lord Downes shrugged, looking like nothing more than an impatient gentleman explaining his reasoning to the slow-witted.

“It couldn’t hurt. The police are disgusting too.

Spying on their fellow countrymen, writing up reports on them whether they’ve done anything to warrant investigation or not.

Britain is supposed to be a shining example of freedom to the cowed peoples of the Continent and beyond.

How pathetic. Even Peyton didn’t trust the police.

He gathered all his proof about me right under my nose, or so he thought.

Believed his boyhood friend capable of treachery but not smart enough to know what he was doing. ”

“You are treacherous,” Lady Fontaine said in outrage. “You made me believe you cared for me.”

Lord Downes took no notice of her. “Peyton’s machinations were all for naught,” he said to me. “I am only sorry he isn’t here to be buried in his own house together with any evidence in mine.”

“You made certain of that,” I said. “He saw you out the window, didn’t he? You frightened him, and he fell.”

Lord Downes chuckled, nodding. “That he did. I only meant to taunt him, but I couldn’t have planned a better end if I’d tried. I never laughed so hard.”

His lack of compassion was chilling. “Did you aim your shotgun at him?”

“No, no, nothing so obvious. I rolled a stick of dynamite toward his back door, pretending to light it first.”

Lord Peyton had seen that, had believed that his house was about to be destroyed, all inside it in danger. He’d risen in shock, tried to warn the others, and fell to his death for his pains.

“You murdered him,” I said sharply.

Lord Downes laughed again. “No court in the land can prove that.”

“You murdered Mr.Howard as well. That might be easier to prove, if your hired ruffians confess.”

“ If they do,” Lord Downes agreed. “There is no reason I should kill Peyton’s secretary, is there?”

I hated that he was right. There was no obvious connection between Lord Downes and Mr.Howard, the secretary, but I’d been thinking things through.

I’d first believed Mr.Howard had been killed because he knew too much about Lord Peyton’s schemes.

However, after my conversation with the groom and Daniel’s information that Lord Peyton was actually trying to prevent the bombings, I’d shifted my attention from Lord Peyton to Lord Downes.

I’d realized, during my restlessness last night, that Mr.Howard had been killed because of the letters.

Lord Downes had used Mr.Howard to prepare them as much as he’d used Lady Fontaine.

“Mr.Howard wrote out the first batch of envelopes for you,” I said.

“I suppose you came up with some excuse, or simply said you had no secretary of your own, and he helped you out of kindness. Lady Fontaine, I imagine, was happy to carry the envelopes back and forth for you. Did you have Mr.Howard post the letters as well? Did he discover what was inside them?”

“Howard was a compliant young man,” Lord Downes said.

“He did know what I was doing, so do not call him kind . He helped me because I promised him a cut of the money I’d get from these pitiful ladies.

He bundled up the letters and posted them, so I wouldn’t have to touch them.

He was impressed with how clever I was. Then he made a mistake. ”