“In the days after we first discovered that our movements were being watched, we acted with a great deal of care. As time passed, we became less careful. There was every possibility that the surveillance had been pared back when we were being deliberately evasive—and then resumed when we let down our guard. And that I had led Lady Ingram to Mr. Marbleton’s address without meaning to.”
“You’ll remember that I had come to you with the theory that the Marbletons were impersonating Mr. Finch in order to get close to the Holmeses, to find out what they might inadvertently know—and that the real Mr. Finch was the man murdered in Hounslow. I had connected the Marbletons to Moriarty because of a similar scheme of codes that they used, and my theory was brought down when Lady Ingram definitively stated that the dead man wasn’t Mr. Finch.
“But then Stephen Marbleton confirmed that at least some of my conjectures were correct—namely, that Mr. Finch had worked for Moriarty. That the dead man in Hounslow had been his colleague under Moriarty. And that together they had defected, taking something important from Moriarty at their departure.
“It was quite a leap to consider that Lady Ingram might be tracking down Mr. Finch for Moriarty. On the other hand, she was perfectly placed. You have no one close to you, so in the short term, at least, she was their best bet, a highly intelligent woman who is bored by Society and antagonistic toward her husband, who happens to be not only your brother but your most trusted ally.”
At this, Lord Bancroft downed another cup of tea.
Lord Ingram was tight-lipped and meticulous. But his wife, however estranged, lived in the same household. He kept a diary, which, even if written entirely in code and with everyone important referred to by aliases at all times... Well, codes were made to be broken and codes suitable for frequent usage even more so. And should he be away and the diary out of the house, he still wrote his children frequently and the envelopes would give his wife a good idea as to the locations where he carried out assignments.
When he stopped trusting her with his affections, he had believed that would be enough to keep him safe.
Charlotte stirred her tea. “I visited my father’s solicitor a second time to find out when exactly Lady Ingram went to see him. And the answer was three weeks before she came to see me. In Mr. Finch’s old village, a man had come asking for his news at about the same time. I could make the argument that she passed on the information to Moriarty and he had sent the man. But that would be only speculation.
“I mulled a plan to speak to ladies Avery and Somersby, to check the age of the rumor that Lady Ingram had once fancied someone unsuitable. But even if I found out, and the rumor turned out to have been recent, it would only give me more circumstantial evidence.
“There was, however, one way to test whether she worked for Moriarty: If she did, she would know how to decode a message from him.
“I spoke to Lord Ingram. He was, needless to say, highly displeased with me, from the first revelation that I’d tried to help Lady Ingram track down her erstwhile beau, to my final suggestion that he do what he could to find out whether she had pledged her allegiance to someone the crown considers an enemy and a threat.”
Little wonder. The last time he’d put his wife to the test, he’d found out that she’d married him only for his money.
Charlotte reached for the muffin again. “And the rest you know.”
Lord Bancroft’s lips curled humorlessly. “Did it not occur to you, Miss Holmes, to give me this information last we met?”
Charlotte met his gaze squarely. “I owed Lord Ingram an immense debt of gratitude. I do not believe he would have appreciated what you would have done to the mother of his children.”
“The mother of his children is now a threat to us all.”
“I’m sure he took that into consideration.”
At this Lord Bancroft rose, went to the sideboard, and served himself a healthy draught of Sherlock Holmes’s best whisky. “I do not know all the rest. I do not know, for example, Mr. Finch’s current whereabouts.”
Charlotte took a ladylike sip of her tea. “Of that I haven’t the slightest idea either.”
Lord Ingram had always said that she was the greatest liar he had ever met, a once-in-a-generation talent. Perhaps all the untruths she had ever disseminated had been in preparation for this moment.
“But I can tell you this. I believe Moriarty has already regained his missing dossier. Remember the look on the dead man’s face? That’s the expression of a man who was told his life would be spared if he’d but give them what they were looking for—only to be strangled for his trouble anyway.
“Not to mention that the last time I saw Lady Ingram, she had changed her mind about finding Mr. Finch—and this from someone who had been nearly frantic before. Which tells me that Moriarty’s interest in Mr. Finch had lessened. Mr. Finch might still have a target on his back, but now that Moriarty has his dossier back, he’s no longer in such an unholy hurry to find and punish a traitor.”
Lies, of course. Lady Ingram had seen the back of the dead man’s picture, on which was written the location and the date of the murder, when she had taken that second look. She would have realizedwho the man was. And that deliberately or unwittingly, Charlotte had linked together Mr. Finch and Moriarty. That was why she had a sudden about-face, renouncing all further interest in Mr. Finch.
And the dead man’s expression could just as well be that of a man who had told what Charlotte knew to be the real truth, that his friend was the one who had the dossier, and was then eliminated anyway.
Lord Bancroft studied her for a long moment. Charlotte held his gaze, praying her usual expression of sweet blankness held.
“Sometimes a man must make sacrifices for his country,” said Lord Bancroft finally. “My brother did his part—I can scarcely do any less.”
She raised a brow.
“Per our agreement, if I reiterated my proposal of marriage today, you were to be obliged to answer in the affirmative. But you are too valuable a woman to waste on matrimony. I would not have Lady Bancroft be concerned with the matters that come before me—but you, you I need in that capacity. You may consider my proposal withdrawn, Miss Holmes.”
He took his leave. When she was alone in the room, she sighed. Saved from marriage with Lord Bancroft because he couldn’t envision a world in which his wife saved him from a traitor in their midst.
Or because he realized that she had absolutely no compunction about lying to his face while looking him in the eye.
