Page 44 of Murder at Somerset House (A Wrexford & Sloane Mystery #9)

Ricardo lowered his voice. “Lord Wrexford and Mr. Sheffield have told me that you are quite skilled in surveillance—I did not ask them why—so as you join the fray and work with my other lads in doing all those vital tasks for me, it would be very useful for you to keep your ears open and keep track of who is selling large amounts of securities and at what price.”

They began walking again and quickly reached the front entrance. “Now, enough of my jabbering. It’s time for Master Sloane to see things for himself.”

Ducking her head to the gust of wind tugging at her bonnet strings, Charlotte moved to a quiet corner of the Tower Menagerie’s battlements and rested her elbows on the ancient stone as she gazed out at the River Thames.

“A penny for your thoughts,” said von Münch, taking up a position beside her.

“Even if they were for sale at any price, I’m not sure quite where to begin,” she replied.

His lips quirked. “That’s entirely understandable. So much of our world is in flux right now, the very earth feels as if it’s constantly shifting beneath our feet.”

He, too, turned his eyes to the river, watching the sails of wherries and lighters dip and dart through the wind-ruffled water of the ebbing tide. “Don’t worry, milady, I’m quite confident you’ll keep your equilibrium.”

She released a pent-up sigh. “You have more confidence in me than I do.”

Rather than respond to her uncertainty, von Münch turned his attention to the far end of the battlements, where Hawk and Peregrine were watching in awe as one of the famous Tower ravens circled Eddy with a flapping of its dark wings and raucous chorus of quorks before taking a perch on her shoulder.

“Eddy is an extraordinary young lady,” he said. “That she possesses the worldly experience of someone far older than her tender years will make her a perfect fit for your family.”

Charlotte wondered if he knew the real story about Raven and Hawk. The thought sent a tiny shiver down her spine. No secret seemed safe from von Münch, and much as she liked him, Wrexford’s doubts about the fellow’s ultimate sense of loyalty had stirred her own niggling concerns.

“How did you know about her?”

He looked back to the river, and after several long moments slid by, Charlotte decided he wasn’t going to answer.

At least not truthfully.

Secrets within secrets . Perhaps subterfuge had become such a way of life for him that the Truth was too entangled in shadow to ever be allowed to see the light of day.

“It’s rather complicated,” said von Münch.

“Wrexford would have expected exactly that answer—or rather non-answer—from you,” replied Charlotte. “While I hoped for something more befitting of our friendship.”

Her remark caused an odd flicker of emotion to flit over his features.

“Like His Lordship and you, milady, I must do my best to balance a number of complicated relationships whose needs do not always align. I regret that some of my actions may have led you to believe that our friendship is based on expediency, rather than true regard.”

She studied his face, wanting very much to believe he was sincere.

“I was about to elaborate on my opening words. With your permission, might I continue?”

A nod signaled for him to go on.

“I met Aladeen O’Meara—or rather, the Countess of Wrexford—twelve years ago, just as it was becoming clear that the Peace of Amiens was not going to last much longer.

As an Irishwoman, she had little love for the British government but even less for the French regime.

Several members of her mother’s family had married into the French gentry and were sent to the guillotine during the Reign of Terror,” recounted von Münch.

“Are you saying that Eddy’s mother was involved in some clandestine mission for the Crown?” whispered Charlotte.

“Actually, she liaisoned with a friend of mine, a top intelligence operative from the Kingdom of Württemberg. The two of them had met at the horse auctions that take place during the racing season at Newmarket.”

“Why on earth would your country reach out to her?”

“Her father was a famous breeder of magnificent horses, as was Aladeen,” he replied, “and it so happened that she and her father had a very influential longtime client with a large estate in Brittany, whose cousin was Marshal Ney, commander of Napoleon’s Grande Armée.

Our operative convinced her to use her charms to learn more about French intentions.

Knowing if and when Napoleon planned to break the peace treaty meant that we could pass the information on to British military commanders so that their forces wouldn’t be caught off guard if war began anew. ”

He paused. “I think she agreed to do so because she knew from your father that Wrexford and his younger brother planned on military careers.”

Yet another surprising revelation . Charlotte was still trying to make sense of it all when von Münch cleared his throat with a cough.

“Just so you know, I wasn’t aware of all this when we first met at the end of last summer.

A chance encounter with my friend during the autumn led to reminiscences about the past, and he mentioned the Wrexford name.

I recalled hearing you mention something about a mysterious letter to the late earl from someone identified only as ‘A,’ so I made further inquiries. ”

“Which means you were aware of the relationship when last we met but held back the information.”

“Guilty as charged,” admitted von Münch. “I wanted to be sure of all my facts. I had begun to uncover hints that a child existed, and it seemed both reckless and unkind to toss that bombshell into your life if it wasn’t true.”

“But you did discover the truth,” mused Charlotte.

“Just before I was required to rush to Elba. And then there was a further delay …”

Charlotte nodded in understanding. “Yes, the whole world, not merely my family, seems to be turning upside down.”

A moment of companionable silence settled between them, and then she suddenly frowned in thought. “Brittany—Aladeen visited Brittany approximately twelve years ago … Eddy is twelve years old …”

A spark of hope stirred in her chest. “Miss O’Malley mentioned that she thinks the late earl and Ala were married on a trip to Brittany.

She assured me that she had been shown proof of the marriage, but it appears to have gone missing.

It seems likely that it went down with Ala when her ship sank in a storm. ”

Charlotte shook her head in sadness. “Without it, Eddy’s future is complicated. Wrexford could, of course, contrive to cover up the lack of an official document, but there are deep moral consequences to that.”

She made a face. “I wonder how many churches there are in Brittany?”

“There are over one thousand chapels,” said von Münch softly. “In Finistère, the northwest corner of the region where Ala’s client had his estate, Celtic myth and Catholicism often intertwine, creating an unconventional blending of religion.”

“That seems a likely place to start looking,”

He nodded. “Perhaps when the current troubled times are behind us, you and His Lordship can do some exploring in the area.”

“Yes,” she agreed. “Th-Thank you for all this information.”

“No thanks are necessary,” interjected von Münch. “It goes without saying that friends help friends.”

“Wrexford will also be grateful,” she stammered.

A chuckle. “Actually I think he’ll be rather annoyed. He prefers to consider me a knave and a scoundrel.”

A hoot of laughter drew their attention to Eddy and the boys. The Tower raven had snatched Peregrine’s hat and had been joined by several feathered friends in playing a game of passing it back and forth.

A singsong order from Eddy brought the hat plummeting back to earth, and with a farewell quork-quork , the ravens flew off.

“It’s turning chilly,” observed von Münch as he offered his arm. “Shall we fetch Lady Eddylina and the boys and head back to Berkeley Square?”