walked into Gabriel’s study looking like a man who needed to spend a week in bed—and not in the company of a woman. His eyes were glassy and he blinked a few times from the opposite end of Gabriel’s desk as if he was having a difficult time remaining awake.
‘I hope this is important enough to have James drag me here when all I have is a desire to crawl back into bed,’ Andrew said.
‘I take it you had a late night?’
‘Hart ran off and left me to play cards alone with Prinny until sunup. I believe I owe him a decent sum, but I could not tell you for certain since I think I fell asleep in the middle of the last hand.’
‘I spoke with Prinny this morning. He appeared no worse for wear.’
‘Yes, well, I imagine he went to sleep when I left. I, on the other hand, had a meeting with Mr Donaldson of Bow Street, apprising him of the investigation, followed by a meeting with Colonel Collingsworth. Yet again, he offered the services of the Guards should we have need. I had finally fallen asleep, when James came knocking upon my door.’
‘I believe I know who the man behind the assassination attempt is.’
That appeared to have woken Andrew up. ‘How? Is it anyone I would have heard of?’
‘The artist, Manning, supplied Prinny’s whereabouts to Mr Clarke.’ Gabriel’s hands grew clammy as he said it out loud for the first time.
Andrew’s eager expression fell. ‘Are you certain? Olivia’s Mr Manning?’
Gabriel curled his right hand into a tight fist. ‘He is not Olivia’s Mr Manning.’ He took a deep breath. ‘I want to believe she is not involved in any of this, but I never thought our uncle would do what he did. Olivia knew where Prinny would be the day of the shooting. She was the one who told him not to take the royal coach. Hell, she even arranged the meeting.’ He rubbed the back of his neck.
‘If what you are saying is true, she will be charged with high treason. You are her husband. She could possibly implicate you, saying it was done with your directive.’
‘I am well aware of the law, Andrew. There is no need to remind me.’
‘What will you do?’
‘We need proof Manning is indeed the man we are looking for. I want to know his comings and goings. If he leaves, I want him followed.’
‘I take it you would like my assistance in this?’
Gabriel nodded. ‘Devise a schedule for the watch. Have the men report to you and come to me the minute you uncover anything. Should you have enough evidence to take him into custody, bring him to the house in Richmond. We will hold him there for his interrogation. I want him far from the Tower and the danger that is there.’
Andrew stood. ‘Of course.’
‘And, Andrew, do not breathe a word of Olivia’s connection to the man to anyone.’
* * *
Olivia was convinced it had been hours since anyone had uttered a word in Manning’s studio. Didn’t they realise how boring it was to lie still for this long? She opened her eyes and focused on the chipped wooden frame of the large mullioned window. From this angle, she could see the tops of the trees in Hanover Square. Unless someone was planning on climbing any of them, nothing outside held her interest. Surely it had to be close to the time they’d agreed her sitting would end?
Her friend had been uncharacteristically quiet for most of the morning as he painted. She had no desire to interrupt his concentration. Her sister was another matter.
‘What are you reading, Victoria?’ Olivia called out to where she assumed Victoria was still sitting on the sofa near the door.
‘Nightmare Abbey by Thomas Love Peacock.’
Olivia stifled a laugh. ‘Truly? What possessed you to read such a thing?’
‘Who could possibly pass by a book by someone named Love Peacock? It is rather satirically amusing. I’m rather enjoying it. You may borrow it when I am finished, if you like?’
Olivia’s right arm began to grow numb and she wiggled her fingers. The sound of a page being turned broke the silence of the room. Was it possible to die of boredom?
‘You might want to mention to Lady Nettleford the next time you are together that I spoke to Prinny regarding her ball. I expect he will be attending.’
Victoria sighed and closed her book. ‘You realise if I do mention it to her, she will talk of nothing else.’
‘Yes, but she tends to become all befuddled around the man. Perhaps this will give her time to prepare herself.’
‘I thought he was suffering with an unusually severe bout of the gout. Do you think he will be recovered in five days?’
He was completely recovered, as far as Olivia could tell. It was perplexing why he continued to maintain this ruse, but she had long given up trying to understand Prinny’s motivation on most things.
‘I believe he will be well enough by then. Please be sure to inform her that he is partial to lobster cakes.’
‘I shall send a note off to her later today,’ Victoria replied with amusement in her voice.
There was no feeling in her arm. She needed to move. ‘Do you have much more to paint today?’ she called out, hoping that Manning was paying enough attention to hear her.
A rustling sound came from behind the canvas, then a grunt. ‘I am finished for the day. The light is changing.’
When Olivia lifted her head and turned towards him, she found him scratching his pencil upon a scrap of paper at one of the tables that held his pigments. She stood and arched her spine, relieving some of the stiffness. Finally she could go to Victoria’s for luncheon and stimulating conversation.
With her sister’s help, Olivia changed into her own dress before they walked out from his studio onto the pavement to look for her carriage. In its place, they found a black town coach, the lacquer dulled to a matt finish, drawn by grey horses. It was unmarked, with no crest. She would have not given it further consideration except her driver was perched atop the coachman’s box. She exchanged perplexed looks with Victoria before turning to her footman. ‘Where is my carriage?’
He cleared his throat and shifted slightly on his feet. ‘This one belongs to the household, madam. We were preparing to return for you when one of the stable hands noticed a wheel on your carriage was loose again. In order to arrive in a timely manner, we decided not to wait to have it adjusted. Unfortunately, this was the only carriage available for your use.’
She glanced at the coachman who had been recently hired. ‘Why did you not bring His Grace’s carriage?’
‘His Grace left shortly before we did in it.’
Victoria backed away from the offending carriage and removed a handkerchief from her sleeve. ‘Why do you even have such a thing? I cannot believe Winter would stand for something so decidedly worn. He probably changes his shirt at least five times a day. Why would he allow such a carriage to be kept in your stables?’
