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Authors: Gilbert Morris

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BOOK: Sonnet to a Dead Contessa
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“Good afternoon, Dylan. What can I do for you?”

Dylan shifted his feet and said rather quickly in a tone more nervous than usual for him, “I have someone I want you to meet, Superintendent. This is Meredith Brice, and this fine young lady is Guinivere, known as Guin for short.”

Matthew nodded toward the young woman and managed to conceal his curiosity. “I’m happy to know you, Mrs. Brice.”

“Thank you, Superintendent.” She smiled, and two dimples appeared—one on each cheek.

“Mrs. Brice is an old friend of mine from Wales,” Dylan said quickly. “She came over to live with her sister, but she hasn’t been able to find her. I thought, Superintendent, that you might be able to give us a hand.”

“Well, I’ll certainly do what I can. Sit down, Mrs. Brice, and let me get a few of the facts.”

Dylan said, “Come here, little one. Sit on my lap, and I can admire you.”

The child smiled and came to him easily. Matthew had always noticed the easy way Dylan had with children. They seemed as drawn to him as good-looking women. He began to ask questions about Meredith’s sister, last known address, description, full name, married state, and finally he nodded and said, “Well, that will give us something to go on, Mrs. Brice. When was the last time you saw your sister?”

“Oh, it’s been five years, sir. She is a little older than I am, and she left to marry.”

“Have you heard from her recently?”

“No, sir, not recently. She did write when she first got here, but then the letters seemed to fade away. Very worried about her, I am.”

“I’ll see what I can do. I’ll see that your description of her is given to all the policemen on the street.”

“Thanks, Matthew,” said Dylan. “If you’ll wait in the carriage, Meredith, I need to speak with the superintendent for a moment.”

“Of course, Dylan. Come along, Guin.”

As soon as the woman and child were outside, Grant gave Dylan a wicked smile. “So—are you going to be comforting the widow Brice, Dylan?”

“Don’t talk like a fool.”

“Well, if you do, Lady Serafina will be jealous.”

Dylan’s face flushed, and he glared at Matthew angrily. He turned around and walked off, ignoring Grant’s laugh that followed him.

As soon as the man was gone, Kenzie entered and cast a look after the pair. “Who was that with Mr. Tremayne?”

“Long-lost sweetheart. A widow now. We’re supposed to see if we can find her sister. Here’s all the information. Print it up and give it to all the men on the streets.”

“Fine-looking woman.”

“Oh, Dylan never fools with a woman unless she’s absolutely beautiful. What do you have for me, Kenzie?”

“Well, sir . . . ,” Kenzie said deliberately. He had a habit of twisting his square frame into some sort of snakelike appearance and of running his hands through his sandy hair. He did so now, and there was a smile on his face. “I have a bit of news for you, Superintendent. You remember you asked me to look into Lord Herbert and his wife?”

“Yes.” Grant was instantly all attention. “What have you found out?”

“Nothing for a while. I’m afraid I had to be a bit of a deceiver.”

“You, a deceiver! I can’t believe it. A good Presbyterian like you, Kenzie?”

“It’s part of the job, don’t you see, Superintendent? In any case, the cook at the Welles household is a fine woman. I sat in her kitchen, and we had quite an interesting talk along with some of the best angel cake I ever had in my life.”

“What did you find out?”

“It wasn’t too easy. Alice Taylor is not a loose talker. I had to be very clever to get it out of her, romance her a little, you know.”

“I didn’t know this was in your character, Kenzie.” Matthew Grant was amused. He knew Kenzie had a sharp, penetrating mind, but he was, in fact, an ardent Presbyterian and, as far as Grant could discover, had never done anything deceitful since he had known him. “What did you find out?”

“Well, I got it out of Alice that Lady Welles was not altogether a moral woman.”

“Not a good Presbyterian, eh?”

“No, indeed, sir. As a matter of fact, she hinted on the first talk we had that the woman had no morals where men were concerned. Then on the next talk she came right out and admitted it.”

“Anything else?”

“Yes, sir. A few nights before the murder, Lady Welles and her husband had a furious argument. Alice said she was afraid they were going to shoot each other. It was very bad, she said. Apparently they both have quite a temper.”

“I see.” Grant stood quietly for a moment assimilating the information. His mind was like a machine, in a way, taking facts in, never forgetting them, and in some way putting them together in a way that made sense to him. “I think you’re going to have to do a little more romancing, Kenzie.”

“How’s that, sir?”

“We need to know the name, or names perhaps, of any men that Lady Welles was seeing.”

“I’ll do my best, sir.”

“Perhaps you need to take Miss Alice some flowers or some small gift like that.”

“Oh, that would not be at all in keeping . . .”

“Then tell her she has pretty eyes. With a ladies’ man like you, Kenzie, I certainly don’t need to give you any advice.”

“I’ll do my best, sir.”

“Too bad he’s a Presbyterian,” Grant said as soon as Kenzie left. “He needs a little bit more deceit in him than a good Presbyterian is supposed to have.”

David’s eyes glowed with excitement, and he came running up to grab his mother by the hand. “Mum, can I take some of my toys with me?” The morning sun slanted through the window, illuminating his face and emphasizing the eagerness in his bright blue eyes.

“No, indeed, I’m sure Lady Margaret’s children will have all the toys you need.”

“How long are we going to stay?” David demanded. He had been excited when his mother told him they
were going for a visit to Lady Margaret’s house, and had piled questions on her.

“Just until late afternoon. They’ll be coming to spend the weekend with us next week.”

“Lady Trent, the carriage is waiting,” Louisa Toft, Serafina’s maid, came to say.

“Oh, tell them we’ll be right there, Louisa.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Come along, David. We don’t want to keep Miss Margaret waiting.”

The two had made all preparations, and Peter Grimes helped them into the carriage, saying, “Have a good visit, Lady Trent.”

“Thank you, Peter. You keep an eye on things while I’m gone.”

“Oh yes, ma’am, I surely will.”

David talked steadily all the way to the Acton town house, and as soon as the carriage stopped, he was greeted by the Acton children, Charles and Roger. They pulled him off at once, and Margaret laughed. “We won’t be troubled with entertaining them, I think. Come inside, Serafina. I’m dying for tea.”

The two entered the house and soon were being served tea by a pretty maid. The room was pleasant, furnished in cool greens and filled with sunshine. There was a large fireplace of polished marble, and on the walls were Dutch pastoral scenes with cows. The two women talked as they sipped their tea and nibbled at tiny fairy cakes. Serafina felt comfortable in the room and with Margaret’s company as she did no other place outside her own home.

Margaret said, “I thought we might go by Lorenzo’s. I’ve collected some clothes that I thought he and Gyp might find some use for.”

Serafina smiled. “I’m sure that’s a fine idea. I have done the same in the past. They are always helping women among the poor classes.”

“They are really very interesting men. Were they really criminals?”

“Dylan says they were. Gyp was the best safecracker in England, he said, and Lorenzo, he won’t even speak about his wrongdoing. But that’s all over now. Come along. We’ll pay them a visit.”

They left the children in the charge of Irene, Margaret’s sister, and soon arrived at Lorenzo and Gyp’s door. As usual, Lorenzo’s voice was booming, and he was full of all sorts of Christian greetings. “Well, bless the Lord, O my soul!” he said with a broad grin. “Glory be to God and the Lamb forever! Good to see you two ladies.”

He ushered them inside, and Gyp was cooking something on the stove. “Hello, Gyp,” Serafina said.

“Good day, Lady Trent, and to you, Lady Margaret.”

“I brought some clothing that I thought someone might be able to use,” Lady Margaret said.

“It’s very kind of you to think of the poor,” Lorenzo said sonorously. “I’m sure the ladies will be most grateful.”

“I didn’t bring any clothes this time, but I have a gift here in cash. Perhaps you can put it to good use.”

“Yes, indeed! Praise the Lord, and thank you, Lady Trent. Gyp, we might know of someone who is in dire need.”

“Always folks in dire need.”

The door opened, and the two women turned to see Dylan stepping aside to allow Meredith to enter. Dylan was holding the little girl and said at once, “Why, Lady Margaret, it’s good to see you, and as always, you too, Lady Trent.”

“It’s good to see you, Mr. Tremayne,” Margaret said, “and you, Mrs. Brice.”

“Thank you, ma’am.” Meredith’s face lit up with a smile, and she put her hand with a sort of possessiveness on Dylan’s arm. “You’ll not believe what this man has done.”

“I think I might believe anything of him,” Serafina said, eyeing the gesture carefully. “What is it?”

“He’s found me a place to live and paid for it and given me money for food for myself and my little one.”

“Now, Meredith, don’t be trumpeting all that about. You’re not supposed to let people know that.”

“Oh, but, Dylan, so grateful I am to you. I didn’t know what I was going to do.” She looked up at him with something like adoration, and Dylan gave her a bright smile. “Well, I’m glad I was able to do something.” He turned and said, “We’ve come for Meredith’s things, and Guin’s too.”

“I’ll go get them right now,” Meredith said. She started to take Guin with her, but Dylan smiled and said, “I’ll just hold this beautiful lady.”

The child looked shy, but she reached up and put her hand on Dylan’s cheek. She pulled his head down and whispered something, and he laughed. “I’ll see about that.” He winked and said, “She’s interested in candy. Can you believe it?”

The two women waited, and Meredith returned rather quickly. She moved to stand by Dylan and gave him an adoring look.

“We’ll have to run along now,” Dylan said. “I want to get Meredith and Guin settled before dark.”

“So good to see you again, Lady Trent, and you, Lady Margaret.”

The two left, with Serafina and Margaret following behind them.

Irene was preparing David for the trip home as Margaret and Serafina enjoyed a few more minutes together. Margaret leaned over and picked up a cup and drained it. “Those three children can tire a person out. If we didn’t have servants to help—and Irene, of course—I couldn’t handle it.”

“Well, they are a handful,” Serafina said. “It’s so nice of you to invite us over. While you were away, David was so lonely for playmates.”

“We’re going to have to see that our children have more opportunities now that we’re back.” Margaret put the cup down and gave her a critical look. “Did you notice how that woman hung on to Dylan?”

“Yes, I noticed.”

“Rather peculiar, wasn’t it?”

“Women are always drawn to him, Lady Margaret. You saw them at the play.”

“Maybe Welshwomen are just more free with men.”

“That may well be.”

Margaret saw that Serafina did not want to talk about it. She had her own thoughts about this woman whom she dearly loved, and she half suspected that there was more to Serafina’s feelings for Dylan than she would admit to. Finally she stretched and said, “I admire Dylan’s religion and his friends the same, Lorenzo and Gyp. What a strange name—Gyp.”

“You admire that? They’re really enthusiasts.”

“I think sometimes I would like to be a Methodist and do some shouting. I get so bored sometimes with our services in the Church of England, don’t you?”

“You know I don’t have much religion. My father has educated most of that out of me.”

Margaret leaned forward, and a serious light came into her face. “I think I need more of God like those people have.”

Serafina was not able to answer. She, too, had been affected by the warmth of Dylan and his friends and the obvious pleasure they got out of worshipping and serving God. Usually when she thought of this, she put it aside quickly, for she had long ago put God out of her scheme of things.

BOOK: Sonnet to a Dead Contessa
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