“Very well, Lady Callander,” Lord Millerton murmured, quietly. “Then might I suggest that we go to Lord Watts’ townhouse to see if he is able to receive us?”
She nodded mutely, her fingers a little less tight now. Staring blankly out of the window, she tried desperately to work out what it was that Lord Hazelton had wanted to say to her as regarded her late husband. Why had he needed to meet with her so urgently? It was clear that, from the three notes, he had believed himself to be in danger, but she had never once expected him to be killed because of it! Was it to do with the information about her husband that had brought about his death? Or was it because of whatever it was the League knew of him?
“Do not worry, Lady Callander,” Lord Millerton said, in a soft voice, as she glanced back at him, seeing the quiet gentleness in his expression. “We shall discover the truth. Lord Hazelton’s death will not remain a mystery.”
“I hope so,” she said, finding her voice barely louder than a whisper. “For I cannot bear it if he has lost his life because of me.”
Lord Millerton said nothing but instead reached across and touched her hand, his fingers gentle on hers and providing her with so much comfort that she wanted to break into tears. Instead, she took in a steadying breath and set her shoulders, returning her gaze to the window. She was going to go the League and, together, they would find out the truth.
She could not even consider any other alternative.
“Goodness.”
Lord and Lady Watt sat together, each with a horror-struck expression on their faces.
“I cannot quite believe it,” Lady Watt said, as Bridgette swallowed hard, feeling a little more like herself now that she had arrived at the house and had taken a few small sips of some excellent brandy. “Lord Hazelton? Dead?”
“I am sure of it,” Lord Millerton said, heavily. “I saw him with my own eyes. I am afraid I had to leave him, given that I had to take Lady Callander away from there almost at once.”
Lord Watt nodded. “Of course,” he said, getting up to ring the bell. “You could not remain there, Lady Callander, given that there might very well have been danger lingering nearby.”
“And so that you did not have any gossip attaching itself to you thereafter,” Lady Watt added, just as the door opened and the butler stood to attention. Bridgette turned to see Lord Watt rise to his feet and then go to the butler to speak to him in low tones, before turning her head back towards Lady Watt, who was watching her with concern in her eyes.
“And you do not know what it was that he wanted to speak to you of?” Lady Watt asked, as she leaned forward in her chair just a fraction, her eyes fixed to Bridgette’s.
Bridgette shook her head. “It was something to do with my late husband,” she said, as Lord Watt came to sit back down. “He was convinced that the person he knew as Lord Callander was not the gentleman that I knew.”
Lady Watt frowned. “How odd,” she said, slowly. “And yet the League wished to know more about him for an entirely different reason.” Quickly, she told Bridgette all that the League knew about Lord Hazelton, filling her with a good deal of astonishment.
“I see,” she murmured, glancing at Lord Millerton, who flushed and dropped his head. “And have you gone to speak to Madame Bereford as yet?”
Lord Millerton shook his head. “No,” he said, quietly. “Not as yet.”
Bridgette let out a sigh, rubbing at her forehead with one hand. “Then it appears there is more to Lord Hazelton than we knew,” she said, softly. “I must confess, I am greatly troubled with all that has occurred. I was confused by his description of my husband and was rather eager to know what it was he wanted to say to me about him. At first, I thought him jesting or confused, but he was so determined that I…..” Closing her eyes, she dragged in a steadying breath, refusing to allow herself to give in to tears. “I must be a part of this. I must find out the truth.”
Opening her eyes, she saw Lord Watt exchange a glance with Lord Millerton, who gave a small shrug.
“You know of the League, given your involvement with Miss Hemmingway and Lord Franks last Season,” Lord Watt said, after a moment or two. “You know that it can be exceedingly dangerous.”
She nodded. “And yet it is not something I shy away from,” she told him, frankly. “If there is so
mething I should know about my late husband, if there is some confusion over the sort of gentleman he was, then I must know the truth.”
Lord Millerton gave a small shake of his head. “There is no promise that we will ever discover it, Lady Callander,” he said, quietly. “What if Lord Hazelton was killed by someone who feared he might speak of something this young lady, ‘Sarah’ has said to him?”
“Then I shall accept it,” she said, quickly, “but I cannot believe it to be true. Why else would he then have sent three notes to me, with a different time and place, only to then send a street boy to confirm which one I ought to follow? It was clearly something of great importance, was it not?”
Her words hung in the air for a moment and, eventually, Lord Millerton nodded.
“Yes, I suppose that is an understandable conclusion,” he admitted, softly. “Lord Watt?”
Lord Watt opened his mouth, only for Lady Watt to place her hand over his. He looked across at her, a little startled, seeing how she nodded at him. He took in a breath and then returned his gaze to Bridgette.
“Then it seems we are all in agreement,” he said, eventually. “Yes, Lady Callander, you may be involved in this investigation.”
Filled with relief, she held Lord Watt’s eyes. “I thank you,” she said, before turning her gaze towards Lord Millerton. “What should we do first?”
Lord Millerton cleared his throat. “I have still to go to Madame Bereford’s,” he said, a little awkwardly. “Mayhap I ought to call upon her first before we make any further decisions.”