Page 56 of Murder at Somerset House (A Wrexford & Sloane Mystery #9)

“P our me a glass of sherry, Wrex.” Alison heaved a sigh as she set aside her cane and sunk into the armchair. “I know the sun is not yet over the yardarm, but given all we’ve been through in this investigation, I think a drink is in order.” She pursed her lips. “Maybe two.”

“Sherry is not a drink—it’s a tipple,” said Henning. “Bring the dowager—and me—a double dram of whisky.”

Two days had passed since the confrontation at the abbey ruins. The news of Wellington’s great victory was now public knowledge, and the heady euphoria that had taken hold of London had—judging by the drunken shouts and laughter still echoing in Berkeley Square—not quite subsided.

“You had better have Riche bring up another few bottles of malt from the cellars,” said Sheffield, as he and Cordelia joined the group gathered in the drawing room.

He looked around expectantly. “Are the Weasels still under a black cloud for taking matters into their own hands and rushing into danger?”

“How to respond to what happened is a daunting dilemma. I feel trapped between a rock and a stone,” admitted Charlotte. “I can’t argue with their reasoning. Wrex was in terrible danger. However, how can I concede that they are free to decide on their own when to put themselves in mortal peril?”

“The rest of us do it all the time,” pointed out Cordelia.

“But they are too young—”

“Age shouldn’t be the only factor,” interrupted Alison. “You think I’m too old to take the same risks as you. And I find it immensely irritating.”

Charlotte acknowledged the reproof with an apologetic grimace.

“It seems to me that the Weasels are mature beyond their years in considering their actions,” continued the dowager. “I’m not saying that they should have free rein quite yet. But perhaps the circumstances should be taken into consideration.”

“Indeed, their tutor is using their actions as a teaching example,” said Wrexford, “and having them analyze what other decisions could have been made, along with their likely consequences.”

“We do understand the importance of thinking before acting,” announced Raven, as he and his fellow Weasels entered the drawing room carrying platters of ginger biscuits and sundry sweets while McClellan followed them with the tea cart.

Tyler was several steps behind her, bearing the bottles of whisky that their butler had fetched from the cellars.

“Then enough said,” said Charlotte. She waited for Wrexford to finish passing out libations—to their disgust, the Weasels were given apple cider—before proposing a toast. “To family and friends!” A pause. “Though I have ceased making a distinction between the two.”

She raised her glass. “To Wrex and me, you are all family.”

“I do hope that I’m also included in that charmed circle.”

Wrexford made a face as von Münch slipped into the room from the corridor.

“Don’t count on it, you sneaky devil.” However, the sight of the fellow’s arm in a sling softened his scowl. “Welcome back.”

“The duke sends his regards. He said that he would have welcomed your wise counsel and steadiness on the field of battle. But I assured him you were protecting Britain from a very dangerous enemy here in London.”

“I’ve heard that our military victory at Waterloo came at a terrible cost,” said the earl.

“The sight of so many fine men slaughtered on the battlefield …” Stopping to steady his voice, von Münch shook his head in sorrow. “It is a sight I shall never, ever forget.”

“May it never happen again,” intoned Charlotte.

“Amen to that,” said Henning, and gulped down a noisy swallow.

After a respectful silence, von Münch tactfully changed the subject. “I trust your government was grateful to you for helping to save Britain from the machinations of Gaudin and Le Loup.”

“As you know, the story isn’t quite so simple,” replied Wrexford. Aside from von Münch, only Charlotte and the Weasels were aware of Norwood’s perfidy. To the others in the room, he added, “There was a very insidious traitor at work—”

“Yes, Elias Fogg!” exclaimed Alison. “But we figured it out, and surely Griffin and his men seized him before he could escape.”

“Fogg was innocent of any wrongdoing. The real culprit was my former comrade Simon Norwood, who was cunning enough to drop veiled hints that made the poor fellow appear guilty.”

The dowager eyes widened in horror. “But Norwood’s grandmother is a Grenville !”

“Which along with his malicious cleverness is what allowed him to weave such a web of traitorous deceit.” The earl summarized all that had happened.

“It turns out that when Norwood was wounded at the battle of Badajoz, he was a French prisoner for a fortnight before being exchanged. Le Loup was one of the French captors and must have sensed that Norwood could be seduced by money, and so contacted him when he first arrived in London seeking to create havoc.”

“He’s even more of a scoundrel to have sold out his country when he was already wealthy,” muttered Henning. “The Grenvilles are among the richest families—”

“Oh, but he wasn’t wealthy,” corrected the dowager.

“Yes, his grandmother was a Grenville, but you all know how it works. As family connections branch out, they may retain a modi cum of prestige, but the money passes down from the patriarch of the family to the eldest son in the age-old tradition of primogeniture. It rarely goes sideways.”

“Yes, Norwood told me that he resented being poor while other less-clever relatives were rich,” said Wrexford. “He thought that terribly unfair.”

“How did you learn about Norwood’s past connection to Le Loup?” asked Sheffield.

“I gave my side of the story to Grentham,” answered the earl. “And apparently the minister had done his own checking of the facts after Norwood explained his so-called heroic role in saving the country.”

“Assuming that his family’s power would protect him, even if the authorities didn’t quite swallow his lies,” muttered Henning.

“Yes. However, my sense is that such hubris will prove to be a dangerous thing.” Wrexford paused. “It wouldn’t surprise me at all if we soon read in the newspaper about an unfortunate accident befalling Norwood.”

“ Quod severis metes ,” whispered Charlotte. “ As ye sow, as ye reap .”

“Amen to that,” said Henning, and drained his glass in one long swallow.

Alison helped herself to a ginger biscuit. “It may be the whisky, but I confess to being a trifle befuddled by this entire investigation.” Crunch-crunch. “First we had the murder of an inventor and were chasing after the secret design for an electrical telegraph, which turned out to be … a ruse?”

“Not precisely a ruse,” explained Wrexford, “but an idea ahead of its time. Both Francis Ronalds and Michael Faraday believe the invention will revolutionize communication in the future, but they say we are still a long way from understanding exactly how electromagnetism works, which they believe will be the key to making the electrical telegraph a practical possibility.”

“The French had concocted a frighteningly clever plan,” said Charlotte.

“They murdered Boyleston to make our government think that the technology existed and could be used for military purposes. But in truth, it was merely meant to distract us while they implemented their real objective—an attack on our stock market to drive down the price of government consols, essentially ruining our economy and making it impossible to fund a new war against Napoleon.”

“However, the real genius of their plan was that there was a third option to give Napoleon a chance to retain his power,” said Wrexford.

“In case financial manipulations didn’t work, they arranged to steal the incriminating letter, which was a highly confidential offer from the Tsar of Russia to, in effect, stab Austria and Prussia in the back by forming a coalition with Britain and forcing them to give up some of the concessions they won at the Congress of Vienna.

Our government had no interest in upsetting the balance of power, but if the letter had been made public, it could have plunged Europe back into war. ”

“That’s not merely clever, that’s diabolical!” exclaimed the dowager. “But from what I have heard, the stock market weathered the storm with flying colors.”

“Yes, thanks to the genius of David Ricardo,” replied Sheffield. “With the indispensable help of Raven and Cordelia, I might add.”

“Mr. Ricardo will be coming by shortly to raise a toast with us,” said Cordelia, “and perhaps he will elaborate on how he managed it all.”

Wrexford eyed the four Weasels. “When he arrives, please slip away and fly up to your eyrie—including you, Raven. He’s a very wise man, and I would prefer that he doesn’t begin to speculate as to what special skills our other wards possess.”

“Mr. Ricardo has already expressed his thanks to Raven and me,” said Cordelia. “Indeed, we have agreed to continue working with him on mathematical ways to spot investment opportunities.” A smile. “He has a great deal of money to invest these days.”

“That’s putting it mildly,” said Alison, after draining the last drop of whisky in her glass. “I read in The Times that Mr. Ricardo personally netted upward of ￡1 million on the government loan. That alone, disregarding the rest of his fortune, would make him one of the richest men in England.”

“Now, now—this group in particular knows that you can’t believe everything you read in the popular press.

” Ricardo entered the room from the corridor and gave a small smile as he placed several very fine bottles of French champagne on the sideboard.

“That being said, all of us”—a quick wave acknowledged everyone in the room—“did quite well investing in my syndicate to fund the government’s debt. ”

“ All of us?“ said Charlotte, looking bemused. “I thought it was only Wrex, Cordelia, Kit, and me.”

“When you mentioned to me what a risk Mr. Ricardo was taking, I felt it was my duty to help,” said the dowager.

“ Moi aussi ,” added von Münch, a twinkle lighting in his eye as he glanced at Wrexford.

McClelland grinned. “Tyler and I did as well.”

“I still don’t know exactly how you managed to support the consol market and avoid a collapse that would have made the loan impossible,“ said Cordelia. “Toward the end, it looked as if it was slipping away and Gaudin was going to succeed in crashing the market and thwarting the loan.”

“I give great credit to my fellow stockjobbers, who did admirable work in following my lead and supporting the consol market,” said Ricardo, “even borrowing great sums to do so, without demanding too much information from me about what was transpiring.”

A pause. “But in the end, it was a close-run thing, and it worked only because I was able to secure the capital from an additional investor. His considerable funds allowed us to keep the consol price up until the short sellers had to run for it and cover their positions.”

Ricardo allowed a fleeting smile. “And then, our victory at Waterloo caused the price of consols to rocket upward. We could have taken even more profits had we used our advance news—thanks to your pigeons—of the momentous triumph and immediately purchased even more consols. However, that would have been unethical, so I informed the Chancellor of the Exchequer at once, and we refrained from any further transactions in consols until the good news was fully disseminated.”

“You deserve a medal, sir,” said Wrexford. “Maybe two.”

“Doing the right thing is always reward enough,” said Ricardo. “Especially when it forges friendships with kindred spirits.”

“ Sláinte ,” called Henning with a rusty chuckle. “Someone hurry and fetch a tray of fresh glasses!”

A cork popped, and the room erupted in a chorus of cheers.

As the merriment grew louder, Charlotte leaned closer to Wrexford.

“A single additional investor?” she murmured.

“I thought Ricardo had been most clear that given the amounts involved, he would need multiple investors, which created a significant problem as to what information he could disclose and how he could count on total discretion.”

“One can’t help but wonder …” The earl maintained a sphinx-like expression. “There is, of course, one individual in the government who has the access to unlimited funds and the authority to use them.”

Their eyes met.

“And above all else, he knows how to keep a secret,” added Wrexford. “However, I don’t think we should become too curious about that individual’s affairs.”

Charlotte gave a knowing nod. “Lest he—”

“Lest he become too interested in ours,” finished the earl.

She raised her as-yet-untouched glass of champagne. “I’ll drink to that.”

“Is it always so unnervingly exciting in this family?” asked Eddy as she and her fellow Weasels lay sprawled in a circle on the schoolroom carpet, a platter of fast-disappearing ginger biscuits in its center.

The three boys looked at each other and began chortling.

Raven managed to stifle his mirth just long enough to reply. “As to that, Merlin, unless you possess a magical scrying glass, it’s impossible to predict what tomorrow will bring.”

Roused from his slumber, Harper added a low woof .

“Oiy,” said Hawk, and Peregrine quickly added his agreement. “But based on the past, I would venture to guess that the future holds a great many new adventures.”