Page 43 of Who Will Remember (Sebastian St. Cyr Mystery #20)

C harles, Lord Jarvis, settled back in one of the comfortable chairs beside his library fire, his elbows propped on the chair’s padded arms as he studied the man who stood before him. “Lord Preston’s funeral was yesterday, was it not?”

Sir Nathaniel Conant, Chief Magistrate of Bow Street Public Office, executed a neat bow. “It was, yes, my lord. Sir Henry and I both attended, naturally. Although, interestingly, I noticed that Lord Devlin did not.”

“And this surprises you?” The magistrate started to answer, but Jarvis raised a hand, cutting him off. “You realize it has been over a week since the man was bludgeoned to death?”

The magistrate blanched noticeably. “Yes, my lord. But we anticipate having someone remanded into custody tomorrow.”

“The war hero?”

“Yes, my lord. But we do not expect any difficulties. Public opinion has moved decidedly against him as the particulars of his affair with the dead man’s wife have become better known. Conduct unbecoming an officer and a gentleman and all that.”

Reaching for his snuffbox, Jarvis flicked open the sapphire-studded lid with one finger, then raised a delicate pinch to his nostrils. “And the other matter?”

“Cartier tells us he has received information that should enable him to deal with the woman. It seems she has resumed her vocation and is once again using her religious name, hence the difficulty locating her.”

“So she’s here as a nun?”

“Yes, my lord,” said Sir Nathaniel, opening and closing his hands nervously.

But Jarvis simply laughed.