“If he just inherited some money, perhaps he isn’t our blackmailer,” Daisy mused.
“Or perhaps he got that money by selling the princess’s letters to someone else,” Ellie countered.
“He’s worth investigating,” Tess said. “Unfortunately, he didn’t tell me his full address, so I can’t stall him here while you two go and search his house.”
“I don’t feel comfortable letting you go with him alone.”
“Nor I. Thanks to my father, I’m well-versed in the various stages of intoxication, and Case is tipsy, but still sober enough to be dangerous.” She held up her reticule. “My little pistol won’t provide much protection against a man his size.”
“You’re going to have to put him to sleep,” Ellie said briskly. She opened her own reticule, pulled out a silver flask, and unscrewed the top.
Daisy took a tentative sniff. “What have you got in there?”
“Brandy laced with laudanum. My father just tried a case where a washerwoman drugged a blacksmith with it and robbed him while he was asleep. I thought it was an excellent idea.”
Tess shook her head. “I’m so glad you haven’t decided to pursue a life of crime, El. You’d run rings around Bow Street.”
Ellie grinned at the compliment.
“So you think I should get Case to drink this? What if he takes too much, and it kills him?”
“I’ve spoken to several doctors, and they all quoted an ancient chap called Paracelsus, who said, ‘Only the dose makes the poison.’ Since Case is already drunk, he’ll only need a tiny bit of this to make him sleep. I put ten drops in this whole flask.”
“What if ten drops is enough to fell a horse?”
Daisy shook her head. “One of Father’s friends regularly hasthirtydrops in his wine. He is a poet, though.”
“Is his profession relevant?”
“Could be. I suspect poets have an unusually high tolerance for opiates. Shelley definitely does. And having read that new poem Coleridge just published, the one about Xanadu, it’s quite clearhewas under the influence, too.”
Tess frowned at the flask. “Can you taste the laudanum?”
“No idea,” Ellie said. “I haven’t tried it.”
“Give me that.” Daisy took the flask, tilted her head back, and took a sip. Her nose wrinkled. “Ugh. Well, it’s got a slightly bitter aftertaste, but it’s hardly noticeable when mixed in with the brandy. Case probably won’t even notice.”
Tess replaced the cap. “Fine. I’ll see if I can get him to take a few sips while we’re in the carriage, or when we arrive at his house. If not, I’ll make my excuses and leave.”
“I wish we could follow and linger outside, in case you need help,” Daisy said. “But my stupid brother’s here tonight. He’ll insist we go home with him.”
“Which brother is this?” Tess asked, momentarily diverted. “You call all three of them stupid.”
“True,” Daisy admitted. “It’s Dominic this time. I don’t know where David and Devlin are. At a brothel in Covent Garden, probably. Or at a cock fight. Wherever there’s trouble, that’s where they’ll be.”
Tess swirled her cloak around her shoulders and pulled up the hood. “Right. Wish me luck.”
Chapter Sixteen
Case lounged on his side of the carriage as it bounced over the uneven cobbles, watching Tess with undisguised lechery as she pretended to drink from Ellie’s little flask.
He’d tried to sit beside her, but she’d held him off with a playful plea not to crush her skirts, and he’d slumped onto the opposite squab with a low grunt. The scent of brandy clung to him, and she thought fondly of Thornton’s delicious woodsy scent. If only she were in a carriage withhim.
“A little something for the road?” She offered the flask to Case.
“Don’t mind if I do.”
He took a good mouthful, and she waited with bated breath for him to comment on the taste, but he swallowed it down with a deep sigh of contentment.
