“Good enough,” Jennie said, sweeping to the door. “Alex, would you join me on an excursion? I’d love a bit of air, and it’s high time you met our new agent. I’m certain you will be most impressed.”
Clad in a distinguished suit of dark wool, Bertram met the ladies with a craggy-faced smile and a tip of his dapper bowler hat. Upon Jennie’s request, he readied a brougham for their outing. Of course, Bertram was far from the typical driver. His command of a team of horses was top-notch, as was his ability to evade a pursuer. Many a younger driver had tangled with the man over the years. None had emerged the victor.
At his side, a slender, fresh-faced figure held the reins. Tabitha Cooke was a recent Colton agency recruit. Jennie spoke highly of the young operative’s skill. With a hat sitting atop the long, dark hair she’d swept up and pinned at the nape, few would guess the trouser-clad driver was a young woman who’d left behind a life in the Yorkshire Dales for a position serving the Crown. Alex suspected the story of how the driver had found her way into the employ of the Colton Agency was interesting, indeed.
Greeting Alex enthusiastically, Miss Cooke flashed a good-natured smile that reached her intelligent eyes. Once they were settled inside the coach, the driver commanded the team with impressive skill. Peeling back the curtain, Jennie peered out the window. Her expression was pensive, and she turned back to Alex with a look of care etched on her features.
“I feared this might be a mistake. Encouraging further involvement with Benedict was a risky proposition from the start, and I made my feelings clear to Matthew,” she said.
“I cannot believe he is involved with that horrid man,” Alex protested.
Jennie pulled in a low breath and let it escape. “Having observed his reaction while you were at Rooney’s cell, I am positive the man holds you in high regard. I saw the tension in his face as Rooney provoked you. At one point, I thought he’d disregard Matthew’s instructions and confront the man himself. He appeared ready to pummel the cur.”
In her mind’s eye, Alex pictured Benedict’s response, imagining the way a tiny muscle in his jaw would have clenched and unclenched, as it usually did when he was angry. Jennie had portrayed him as a man moved by protectiveness, a man who wanted to shelter her from the unpleasantness she’d faced while confronting her assailant.
“I was quite shaken by the experience,” she said truthfully. “But it is some comfort to believe that Benedict is not a villain in this piece.”
“I cannot bring myself to believe he is involved in the crimes,” Jennie said softly. “I suspect he still harbors tender feelings for you.”
Alex shook her head, dismissing the thought. She could not allow herself to indulge such notions. It would only end badly. For her.
“His feelings are driven by guilt. The professor’s death was a brutal blow. Professor Stockwell had pledged him to see to my safety. Benedict feels a sense of duty. There’s nothing more to it.”
“I do not believe the man sees it as a duty,” Jennie countered.
Alex shrugged. “Be that as it may, it’s of little consequence. Iwillsee this through. There’s no harm in following along with Matthew’s plan.”
“If Benedict is indeed an innocent man, he is in clear danger. It is to his advantage that we sort the villains from the innocents.”
“Quite so.” Alex stared down at her hands, gathering her thoughts. “I can still hear that vicious man’s words playing in my head. Over and over again. He alleged that Benedict is guilty of some great sin. Why?”
Jennie’s mouth thinned. “I can think of several reasons Rooney wanted to sow doubt in your mind. Marlsbrook returned from Egypt on a quest. He did not come here for you alone. You would not cooperate with him if you doubted his motives and intentions.”
“Indeed.”
“If Rooney creates fear in you, you would be reluctant to put yourself within Marlsbrook’s proximity, undermining our ability to learn what he knows. And…” Fidgeting with the pearl buttons on the cuffs of her blouse, she seemed to collect her thoughts. “There is another factor we must consider, unpleasant as it may be.”
“And what might that be?”
“There is a chance—albeit a slim one—that Rooney’s implication has merit. Do you think Benedict is involved in activities that might be described as illicit or illegal?”
Alex hesitated, debating how much to tell her sister. She had it on good authority that Benedict’s trade of antiquities had been scandalous and unethical, but not quite in violation of the law.
“I believe that Benedict has acted in his own self-interest,” she said simply. “He has enriched his coffers at the expense of his integrity. He had a falling out with Professor Stockwell over one of his more lucrative but unscrupulous ventures.”
Jennie crooked a brow. “Interesting. I suspected as much, but I had not been able to research the question at this short notice. When did this occur?”
“Oh, it’s been several years now…right around the time when Benedict began renovations on his family’s manor home.”
“That’s right,” Jennie said with a nod of understanding. “As I recall, his exploits were the talk of the Exploration Society for a time.”
“Papa was particularly displeased, as was Professor Stanwyck.”
“I’m told that Stanwyck and Marlsbrook nearly came to blows.”
“Nearlyis not the correct word. They did engage in fisticuffs. Or so I understand.”
Jennie’s eyes went wide. “I presume you are aware that Stanwyck and Sophie have returned from Cairo.”
