Recipe for Treason Part 16

Brynn-Smith beamed. "I suppose you could say that. Though I did not, of course, invent hydrogen, I am trying to see if a new element might be added to make balloons more maneuverable." Pulling a pocket watch from his waistcoat, he checked the time. "Dear me, if I don't fly off this instant, I shall be late for another engagement. It was a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Mrs. Greeley. I hope we have a chance to talk further at some later date."

"I look forward to it."

Bobbing a quick bow, Brynn-Smith hurried off.

"What an interesting fellow," she remarked, curious to draw a reaction from Lawrance. He did not seem happy about the interruption, and she wondered why. "The members of the Royal Inst.i.tution are engaged in such intriguing projects. I can see that I shall enjoy my stay here in London."

"What other plans do you have for your visit?" he asked. "Perhaps you would allow me to escort you to the theatre some evening?"

"Actually, I don't care for playacting," said Arianna. Flicking a curl of faux hair from her cheek, she refused to be diverted from talk of flight. "Tell me, do you fly balloons, Mr. Lawrance?"

"No," he replied. "The information is merely for a friend."

A glib response, given just a little too quickly, she decided. He definitely merited further scrutiny.

"What about you, Mrs. Greeley? Do you aspire to soar through the heavens?"

"It must be a unique experience, to see the world from such a perspective. Everything must look very small and insignificant." Arianna deliberately drew out a pause. "I wonder if, like Icarus, one feels a great sense of power and freedom from constraint."

"Icarus crashed back to Earth in a fiery ball of flames," said Lawrance slowly.

"Oh, yes, he did, didn't he?" She smiled. "Ah well, so much for dreams of power and glory." Anxious to move on and observe the other guests, she pointedly looked around. "I hope your friend appreciates the effort you have made to help him. Now, if you will excuse me, I think I shall go sample some of Mr. Chittenden's refreshments. I am feeling a little . . . How do you English say it . . . peckish?"

"Yes, peckish-like a bird," replied Lawrance with an enigmatic smile. "Come, the parlor is this way."

Like a c.o.c.klebur, he seemed determined to stick to her skirts. Was he merely an incorrigible flirt who liked to attach himself to a lady? Or was there some other reason she couldn't shake him off?

Ignoring his attempts to talk about London's landmark sights, Arianna kept pondering the questions. Perhaps Miss Kirtland knew more about his background. If not, Saybrook could make some inquiries . . .

Spotting Lady Urania and her brother near the platters of cheese and shaved ham, she put aside the pesky thoughts of Lawrance to concentrate on them.

Once her self-appointed companion returned from the tables with a plate of food, Arianna asked, "Does Lady Urania ever venture out from her sibling's shadow?"

Lawrance eyed the pair over the rim of his winegla.s.s. "I suppose there is a special bond between twins that the rest of us cannot fathom."

"Twins?" Arianna hadn't been aware of the connection and made a mental note to ask Miss Kirtland why it had not been mentioned. Details like that were important.

"Yes, and I believe that she is the eldest," went on Lawrance. "Which may explain why she fusses over him like a mother hen."

"In truth, the opposite appears the case to me," she replied pensively. "To my eye, it is Lord Canaday who seems solicitous of his sister's welfare. He looks like he feels beholden to protect her."

As Arianna watched, the lady in question took hold of her brother's arm, as if to steady a momentary tremble. Smiling, he shifted slightly in order to place his hand at the small of her back.

"Many men would resent the duty of playing constant guardian to an invalid sister," she mused. "And yet he seems quite good-natured about it."

"Indeed, he is a paragon of virtue," said Lawrance, though there seemed to be a slight shade of sarcasm to his voice.

"Are you friends with His Lordship?"

"We move in the same circles, so yes, we are quite well acquainted."

The reply, noted Arianna, did not really answer the question she had asked. For a moment, she debated whether to retreat, in hope of shaking off Lawrance and returning a little later on her own. However, given that time was of the essence, the chances of missing the siblings seemed too great a risk to take.

"Well, I do hope that I shall have a chance to get to know both of them better. I find his sister very bright and interesting to talk to, so if you will excuse me . . ."

His smile seemed to tighten ever so slightly, and yet Lawrance fell in step beside her.

Quelling her irritation, Arianna approached the siblings with a cheerful greeting. "Lady Urania, Lord Canaday, how lovely to encounter you again."

"Ah, Mrs. Greeley." The viscount turned and lifted her gloved hand to his lips. "How are you enjoying London?"

"Very much," she replied. "Though I confess, I have spent a good deal of time in frivolous amus.e.m.e.nts like visiting the Tower Zoo and taking in a performance of the acrobats at Astley's Amphitheatre."

"Work must be balanced by play," replied Canaday, a mischievous twinkle flashing in his eyes. "Astley's is an experience no visitor to our fair city should miss."

"It was most impressive. But on the whole, I do prefer more serious entertainments."

"Then you must be sure to attend the next meeting of the Mayfair Scientific Society," said Lady Urania. "We have a special lecturer visiting from Scotland. I am hosting it at Mortley House, as Professor McClellan will be staying with us during his visit."

Arianna's ears p.r.i.c.ked up at the mention of Scotland. "What is the subject of the professor's talk?"

"Metallurgy," said Lady Urania. "I believe he has been a.n.a.lyzing some of the ancient iron found in Viking burial mounds and has some very interesting discoveries to recount."

"I will be sure to attend," she said. "I just heard Willoughby discussing the topic of his next lecture, and it, too, sounds fascinating. It is very impressive how active the London scientific community is."

"Which reminds me . . ." Canaday gave an apologetic shrug. "I'm afraid we have another event to attend." He glanced at his sister. "Are you ready to leave, Rainnie?"

"I . . ." Lady Urania drew a ragged breath and to Arianna it appeared that her eyes had an unnatural brightness-a febrile glow matched by two hot spots of color ridging her cheekbones. "I fear that I may have to let you go on without me."

"Are you feeling ill?" Canaday sounded a little alarmed.

"No, just a bit tired is all."

"Good heavens, why didn't you say so? I would have taken you home earlier," said her brother tightly.

"I do not always wish to ruin your evenings with my weaknesses." For all her fragility, Lady Urania managed to muster a note of command. "I insist you go about your evening as planned, Theus. You may drop me at Mortley House on your way to Lord Taft's gathering."

He reached down to rearrange her shawl. "I shall be happy to stay at home and read to you," he murmured.

"I won't hear of it," insisted his sister.

Canaday fixed Arianna with a rueful grimace. "What is your opinion, Mrs. Greeley? Am I a selfish sybarite to abandon her at home and go dashing off to another entertainment?"

"I think," said Arianna slowly, "you would be wise to respect your sister's wishes. She is not a child-and besides, it seems to me that she is stronger than she looks."

"There, you see!" said Lady Urania triumphantly. "Thank you for your stalwart support, Mrs. Greeley."

"Ah, I see I shall have to bow to feminine logic." As the viscount looked up, he flashed a wink from beneath his golden lashes. "Or feminine wiles." His voice dropped to a near whisper. "Like most men, I find it impossible to ignore the request of a beautiful woman."

"You are a true gentleman," said Arianna with a smile. "And a kind brother."

"Dare I hope that you will reward me with a waltz at Lady Brodhead's ball?" he asked.

"Unfortunately, I won't be able to attend the event, as I have a previous commitment." To appear there as the Countess of Saybrook.

"Perhaps some other time."

"Perhaps," she murmured. "Though to be honest, I am not very fond of dancing." I am required to spin through enough fancy footwork as it is.

Lawrance watched the twins move away through the archway and into the shadows of the corridor before quaffing the rest of his champagne punch in one quick swallow. "What a charming fellow, eh? I daresay he puts the rest of us gentlemen to blush with his sensitive nature and soulful smiles."

"Indeed. A female appreciates it greatly when her opinion is solicited and then given proper respect." She smiled sweetly. "It happens so rarely."

At long last Lawrance seemed to get the hint, for when she turned a few moments later to leave, he did not follow.

"We saved you some chocolate and hazelnut confections, Lady S." Henning lifted his whisky gla.s.s in salute as she entered the library. "Though perhaps you are not hungry. Scientific soirees usually feature a great deal of food, as scholars tend to get lost in their work and forget to eat during the day."

Still clad in her urchin garb, Arianna moved to the hearth and warmed her hands over the dancing flames. "In truth I am famished. The refreshments were unpalatable-dry cheese, bland ham, stale cakes." She rubbed at a crick in her neck. "But the company provided much food for thought."

Saybrook poured her a gla.s.s of port and set out a plate of salted Marcona almonds on the side table by her favorite armchair. "Sit down and have some sustenance before you tell us what you learned."

"Thank you." She sank gratefully into the soft leather and heaved a sigh. "I must be getting old. This constant changing of personas is proving a trifle fatiguing." A wiggle of her toes sent up tiny puffs of steam from her wet boots. "Ouch-Mrs. Greeley's evening shoes are one size too small."

The surgeon stifled a snort. "When you get to be my age, then you may grouse about sore feet or stiff necks. At the moment I have precious little sympathy."

"Wretch," she responded. "Speaking of which, how is your shoulder?"

Henning lifted his arm and waggled it back and forth. "Nearly good as new," he said, carefully masking a grimace.

"You are nearly as good an actor as I am," she said dryly.

Her husband perched a hip on the arm of her chair and helped himself to a handful of the nuts. "Your recovery would no doubt progress more quickly if you would stay here for a while longer. G.o.d only knows what noxious forms of molds and lichens are growing in your living quarters."

"I don't charge them rent, so they have agreed to leave me in peace," retorted Henning. "And remember, the ancient Greeks believed that a healthy body required a healthy mind-"

"Actually, it was the other way around," murmured Saybrook. "But I take your point."

"My point is that my patients need me, and keeping busy will prevent other things from festering." The surgeon reached for a pastry. "Though I will miss your chocolate creations."

"I shall make sure you don't starve," said Arianna.

Her husband crunched an almond. "Whenever you are ready, I wouldn't mind being fed some information."

She took a last sip of port and then set it aside. "I've a plateful to offer. To begin with, what do you know of a Mr. Henry Lawrance?"

Saybrook drew his brows together. "Nothing to speak of."

"He's tall and a bit of a macaroni, with well-tailored clothing that whispers of money," she went on. "I first met him at the inst.i.tution reception, and he was there tonight-and I couldn't seem to shake him from my skirts. It was . . . suspicious."

"There are reasons other than espionage that a gentleman might want to attach himself to you," pointed out the earl dryly. "Especially as Mrs. Greeley pads her already considerable charms."

"That may be. But when that same gentleman is approached by a balloon expert and told that the research he requested on lighter-than-air gases is ready to be picked up, one tends to think that amorous activities are not his primary reason for being at the gathering."

"You are sure?" asked her husband.

"Quite. And he seemed a little unhappy that I overheard the exchange," replied Arianna. "Another thing-I was introduced to him by Miss Kirtland, and my impression was that they knew each other."

Saybrook's frown deepened. "I shall pay her a visit in the morning to ask about-"

She cut him off. "I think it would be more efficient for the investigation if you pursue information through your other sources while I speak with Miss Kirtland about Lawrance. She and I are, after all, trying to learn to work together."

He rose and went to refill his gla.s.s with Spanish brandy. "Very well. That makes some sense."

Was she only imagining the note of reluctance in his voice? Fatigue-along with the faint hiss of the coals-was muddling her judgment. "That's not all," she hurried on. "The balloon expert, a man by the name of Brynn-Smith, mentioned that the aeronauts from the Artillery Grounds have taken to gathering at a new tea shop on Montague Street that serves up special coffee and chocolate drinks. Its proprietor is a Spanish woman."

"Interesting," mused her husband. "It certainly sounds worth a visit."

"Aye," said Henning. "But will it stir suspicion if ye are seen sniffing around men who are involved in flight?"

"My interest in chocolate is no secret," said the earl.

"Still, Renard is a cunning varlet, and the coincidence may be too great," insisted the surgeon.

"Basil raises a good point," said Arianna. "But what about me? I could strike up a friendship with the proprietor over chocolate recipes. Two females discussing cooking would draw far less attention. For all of Renard's cleverness, he can't know about my exploits in our first two investigations, so he's likely to underestimate a woman."

"I take it you are suggesting the Countess of Saybrook become a regular visitor to the shop."

Arianna let out a chuckle. "Despite my skills at deception, even I would be hard-pressed to carry off a third persona."

"Thank G.o.d," quipped her husband. "Two of you are already causing me twice my usual worries."

"Don't fret about me. I shall simply be sitting in a snug little shop, enjoying hot chocolate and pastries while trying to pick up any useful morsels of information," she retorted. "Leaving you free to find the most important piece to this puzzle. It seems to me that it's imperative for you to locate Sir George Cayley." No one in London seemed to know the baronet's present whereabouts. "Any further luck in trying to track him down?"

The earl shook his head. "Not yet. But I have a meeting tomorrow evening with another source that may prove helpful."

"While I am attending a ball with Constantina and Miss Kirtland," said Arianna, "in order to learn more about Lord Reginald's family."

Henning levered to his feet. "I'll make a few inquiries among my friends," he said vaguely.

"We would rather you rest and recover," said Arianna. "Sandro and I can manage."

The surgeon waved off the suggestion. "I'm not about to desert the field of battle because a bit of my blood has been shed."

Arianna watched the lamplight flicker over his gaunt face. It wasn't Henning's physical wound that was cause for concern, she thought. Since coming back from Scotland he had been . . . different. Distant. Detached. As if his nephew's death had cut a chasm between him and Saybrook, no matter their years of friendship.

"No one questions your courage or your resolve, Baz. But keep in mind that victory is rarely achieved by a commander who takes the fight personally," counseled Saybrook.