Tati, will you?’
‘I’m afraid he’s sent for Chief Inspector Rose, Bertie,’ Tatiana told him.
Afraid? Auguste picked up on the word with some disquiet.
‘In that case I’ll leave.’ His Majesty could be a man of quick decision.
‘But it is possible he was a potential assassin, sir,’ Auguste said in alarm. ‘Dressing in formal clothes could have averted suspicion from him if he were spotted.’
‘If he was,’ the King pointed out pragmatically, ‘the poor fellow clearly thought better of his plans. But –’ driven to new heights of detection, ‘– if it was murder, it’s rather a coincidence that he was killed himself before he could make his attempt on me. My bodyguards deny all knowledge of him, so I’ve nothing to do with the matter.’
‘Perhaps not, sir.’
The King looked at him. He expected more cooperation from Didier. ‘I’ll leave,’ repeated His Britannic Majesty. ‘
Now
.’ Even sweet little Beatrice was but poor temptation where scandal might lurk.
Sweet little Beatrice was not at that moment living up to her lover’s idealised picture of her. She was pouting in displeasure.
‘I don’t want to come.’
‘You have to,’ her husband informed her curtly. ‘It would look most odd.’
‘
He
needs me.’
‘
He
will have to manage without you. Besides, I’ve no doubt he had you last night.’
‘Harold!’ Beatrice was unable to believe she was hearing aright. Such crudeness from her own husband.‘Are you out of your mind?’ He must be. Such things were never alluded to in polite society.
‘You weren’t in your room at one o’clock.’
‘Yes, I was.’
‘No, you weren’t.’
‘How do you know?’
‘I went to see.’
‘And where else did you go?’ Sweetness had indeed turned acid. ‘Not for a smoke, did you?’
Harold stared at her, and changed tack. ‘I don’t mind His Majesty,’ he said heavily. ‘After all, he’s a friend of mine. It’s the others.’
‘Others?’ asked Beatrice slowly. This was far worse than she had feared.
‘That fellow in the smokehouse,’ Harold said pleadingly. ‘He wasn’t one, was he?’
Terror shot through Beatrice, all the sharper for being so unexpected. ‘What did he look like?’ she whispered.
‘About my age. Beard. Dark hair—’ He stopped as she looked at him aghast.
‘How do you know, Harold? Oh, Puppikins, what have you
done
?’
‘It was the Tabors,’ he gabbled. ‘The Tabors told me. Truly, Pussikins.’
‘Where are you going, Auguste?’ Tatiana asked in surprise, seeing him don his ulster.
‘To Settle.’
‘But you have seen the body.’
‘I need to be present.’ He could not explain that he was impatient for news, since she had denied there was any need for concern. If by any chance Cobbold had now identified the corpse, he might be able to rid his mind of the still-nagging suspicion that Tatiana might know more than she was sayingabout the events of the night.
‘I will come in the carriage with you.’
He could not stop himself as tension burst out. ‘This great desire for my company did not prevent you from absenting yourself from our bed last night.’
‘So you try to stop me from seeing my own cousin? Are you jealous of Alexander? You wish to cage me up like a poor little bird?’
She did not look in the least like a poor little bird, more like an uncaged tiger.
Two could lose their tempers, especially after virtually no sleep.
‘If you will creep around like a housemaid—’ Auguste shouted.
‘Huh! You know all about housemaids creeping around, eh? Creeping into your bed.’
‘That is not so!’ He was outraged.
‘Oh, Mr Auguste,’ she mimicked. ‘You’re so handsome, so clever.’
‘And if I am?’ he retorted, then broke off aghast. ‘Tatiana, we are
quarrelling
.’ Never, never had he imagined such a thing could happen.
Her eyes flashed. ‘Naturally. We are married.’
He was bereft of words. He left the room in silent dignity, only to find
‘I’m afraid he’s sent for Chief Inspector Rose, Bertie,’ Tatiana told him.
Afraid? Auguste picked up on the word with some disquiet.
‘In that case I’ll leave.’ His Majesty could be a man of quick decision.
‘But it is possible he was a potential assassin, sir,’ Auguste said in alarm. ‘Dressing in formal clothes could have averted suspicion from him if he were spotted.’
‘If he was,’ the King pointed out pragmatically, ‘the poor fellow clearly thought better of his plans. But –’ driven to new heights of detection, ‘– if it was murder, it’s rather a coincidence that he was killed himself before he could make his attempt on me. My bodyguards deny all knowledge of him, so I’ve nothing to do with the matter.’
‘Perhaps not, sir.’
The King looked at him. He expected more cooperation from Didier. ‘I’ll leave,’ repeated His Britannic Majesty. ‘
Now
.’ Even sweet little Beatrice was but poor temptation where scandal might lurk.
Sweet little Beatrice was not at that moment living up to her lover’s idealised picture of her. She was pouting in displeasure.
‘I don’t want to come.’
‘You have to,’ her husband informed her curtly. ‘It would look most odd.’
‘
He
needs me.’
‘
He
will have to manage without you. Besides, I’ve no doubt he had you last night.’
‘Harold!’ Beatrice was unable to believe she was hearing aright. Such crudeness from her own husband.‘Are you out of your mind?’ He must be. Such things were never alluded to in polite society.
‘You weren’t in your room at one o’clock.’
‘Yes, I was.’
‘No, you weren’t.’
‘How do you know?’
‘I went to see.’
‘And where else did you go?’ Sweetness had indeed turned acid. ‘Not for a smoke, did you?’
Harold stared at her, and changed tack. ‘I don’t mind His Majesty,’ he said heavily. ‘After all, he’s a friend of mine. It’s the others.’
‘Others?’ asked Beatrice slowly. This was far worse than she had feared.
‘That fellow in the smokehouse,’ Harold said pleadingly. ‘He wasn’t one, was he?’
Terror shot through Beatrice, all the sharper for being so unexpected. ‘What did he look like?’ she whispered.
‘About my age. Beard. Dark hair—’ He stopped as she looked at him aghast.
‘How do you know, Harold? Oh, Puppikins, what have you
done
?’
‘It was the Tabors,’ he gabbled. ‘The Tabors told me. Truly, Pussikins.’
‘Where are you going, Auguste?’ Tatiana asked in surprise, seeing him don his ulster.
‘To Settle.’
‘But you have seen the body.’
‘I need to be present.’ He could not explain that he was impatient for news, since she had denied there was any need for concern. If by any chance Cobbold had now identified the corpse, he might be able to rid his mind of the still-nagging suspicion that Tatiana might know more than she was sayingabout the events of the night.
‘I will come in the carriage with you.’
He could not stop himself as tension burst out. ‘This great desire for my company did not prevent you from absenting yourself from our bed last night.’
‘So you try to stop me from seeing my own cousin? Are you jealous of Alexander? You wish to cage me up like a poor little bird?’
She did not look in the least like a poor little bird, more like an uncaged tiger.
Two could lose their tempers, especially after virtually no sleep.
‘If you will creep around like a housemaid—’ Auguste shouted.
‘Huh! You know all about housemaids creeping around, eh? Creeping into your bed.’
‘That is not so!’ He was outraged.
‘Oh, Mr Auguste,’ she mimicked. ‘You’re so handsome, so clever.’
‘And if I am?’ he retorted, then broke off aghast. ‘Tatiana, we are
quarrelling
.’ Never, never had he imagined such a thing could happen.
Her eyes flashed. ‘Naturally. We are married.’
He was bereft of words. He left the room in silent dignity, only to find
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