Page 50 of The Heir (A Young Queen Victoria Mystery #1)

V ictoria was aware she should be shocked. Perhaps she should even be morbidly, terribly delighted. This was, after all, what she had longed to hear. This was something Mama could never ignore or brush away.

But she looked at Jane’s misery, and all she could think to do was enfold the other girl in her strongest embrace. Jane was so startled, she stiffened. Then, slowly, tentatively, she wrapped her arms around Victoria and hugged her back. She sobbed once. And then she stepped away.

Victoria yanked her handkerchief out of her sleeve and handed it to Jane. Jane wiped her eyes.

“Tell me what happened,” said Victoria.

Jane looked behind them. Of course she did. They needed to be careful. Even now, even here, someone might be listening.

And we do not have much time.

Victoria pressed her hand. Jane squeezed her fingers.

“My brother, Ned, he gambles. He . . . It seems, I heard, he accused someone of cheating, and they fought a duel.”

Victoria held her hand firmly, willing Jane to be strong.

“The other man died. Ned was wounded. The doctor . . . the doctor they had on the site was Dr. Maton. They brought him home—” She stopped.

“Jane, what is it?”

“I remember that morning,” she breathed.

“The noise woke me. I remember them bringing Ned upstairs. Liza said he was drunk. And he was in bed for four days. They said it was a fever. And then he got his post at the consulate—” She stopped, voice and hands trembling. “It was to get him out of the country.”

Of course it was. Dueling was illegal. If Ned Conroy had killed the man, he could be hanged for the murder. Of course his friends got him out of the country.

His friends. His family.

His father.

“But either Dr. Maton threatened to tell or Ned simply didn’t trust him . . . I don’t know which . . . Ned was giving him money to keep quiet.”

“Good God.”

“What?”

“Aunt Sophia was giving him money, too.”

Jane giggled, a high-pitched, frantic noise. “And Father was paying him, too . . . Dr. Maton was bad as my maid Betty. It seems everyone in our family was paying her to keep quiet. Maybe even Ned. I—” Jane stopped dead.

“What is it?”

“We assumed it was Father who went to the Matons to offer the pension. But what if it wasn’t?

” She pressed her hand to her throat. “The letter from Gerald Maton said it was a tall man with dark hair and blue eyes. That could describe Ned as easily as Father. Ned’s been taking money from our sister, and I caught him robbing Father’s strongbox.

I assumed it was to pay his gambling debts, but what if it was to keep paying the Matons? ”

“That could be why William Maton was walking back and forth across the green so much,” said Victoria slowly. “He was going to talk with your brother.”

“Ned could have offered him a drink, a cup of tea or coffee,” said Jane. “He could have slipped the poison in.”

Would Dr. Maton’s bad stomach have made it work faster? Or could Ned have given him several doses over several visits, like the daughter in Dr. Gerald’s story? Was Ned Conroy capable of such dreadful patience?

“What do I do?” Jane stared wide-eyed at Victoria. There it was again, that desperate belief that she must be able to do something, because she was the princess, because she would be queen.

Victoria took her by both shoulders. “You remember what you told me,” she said. “That there is no proof. No evidence. We’re just telling a story right now.”

“But it could be—”

“But we don’t know . You said it. Lehzen said it. We cannot guess. It’s too important. We must know.”

“But how can we find out? You’re leaving. We’re leaving. We’ll be gone a month. Anything could happen. We might never—”

“Stop!” snapped Victoria. “Let me think, let me think . . .” She gritted her teeth and willed her mind to be quiet. Willed all the anger, all the fear, to quiet itself. It was slow, but gradually, her whirling thoughts stilled. And new possibilities rose.

“I know,” she breathed. “I know what we can do. Dear God!” She pressed her hand to her mouth. “Sir John has made a mistake, and he doesn’t even know it!”

“I don’t understand.”

“While Sir John is gone, while Mama and I are gone, you won’t be needed at the palace. You’ll be free! You can talk to Mr. Rea, to the Matons, to anyone , and they won’t even know!”

“But you’re forgetting that since we’re such good friends now, I’m supposed to go on the tour with you. Father decided.”

“I did not forget anything,” said Victoria. “But you forget Sir John and Mama think I’m childish, stubborn, and capricious.” She felt herself smile.

“I don’t—”

Victoria took Jane’s hand and spoke solemnly. “I’m sorry, Jane. I’m afraid you and I are about to have a dreadful quarrel.”