Dangerous Dalliance by Joan Smith Read Free Book Online Page B

and look. What he stared at for the most part was the buttons on Depew’s jacket. They were rather ornate, with some sort of crest on them.
    Mrs. Lovatt said, “If they are not here, I daresay the hotel got rid of them. They would have starved long since, with no one to feed them.”
    Depew shook his head. “I inquired the night of your father’s demise. The cage was already missing.”
    I thought it showed a lack of feeling that Depew should have worried about pigeons at such a time, but I knew well enough that Papa was equally obsessed by the birds, and forgave him.
    “I am sorry we cannot be of help to you, sir, but if you wish to be in touch with Mr. Snoad, I daresay he could sell you a bird of equal value to the one you wanted to buy. He knows as much about all that business as my father did.”
    Smythe said, “Was it here you was to meet Mr. Hume, or in London, Sir Chauncey?”
    “London?” he asked, startled. “No, it was here. Why should you think it was London?”
    “Because my father’s coffin was sent from London,” I explained. “That is where he told us he was going, to a meeting of the Columbidae Society. It is very odd, is it not?”
    Sir Chauncey frowned into his collar. “London! That is odd.” He looked as if he would say more, but he came to an abrupt halt. “Are you quite certain?”
    “Indeed we are,” I assured him. “It is a matter of the utmost confusion to us as well, Sir Chauncey.”
    “London,” he repeated. His shock now held a tinge of something akin to fear.
    He drew out his watch and glanced at it. As his jacket moved aside, Smythe peered to check the lining. It was of yellow silk. “I must dash. Snoad, you said, at Gracefield?”
    “Yes, Mr. Snoad is tending the pigeons,” I assured him.
    Depew rose. “Thank you very much, Miss Hume. A pleasure to meet you, ma’am, sir,” he added to the others, already hastening to the door.
    As there was no hope of catching him, I let him show himself out. “What do you make of that?” I asked Auntie.
    “Very mysterious, to be sure. We didn’t get much out of him, did we?”
    “He knows even less than we do,” I replied. “He didn’t even know Papa’s body was taken to London. He seemed upset to hear it. I wonder why.”
    “Horse Guards,” Smythe announced.
    Mrs. Lovatt asked, “What’s that you say, Smythe?”
    “Depew—he was wearing the prince’s buttons on his jacket. Yaller lining as well. He’s with the Horse Guards.”
    “Is he indeed? He did not say so.”
    “Stands to reason he wouldn’t. I wonder he didn’t change his jacket to call on you. Course, he didn’t know I would be here,” he added, to answer his own question. Provincial ladies, I assumed he meant, would not realize the significance of the prince’s buttons. Nor did we. The two questioning faces tacitly demanded an explanation. “Thing is,” he said, “the man’s a spy.” Two gasps rent the air. “An English spy,” he hastened to assure us. “Horse Guards handle intelligence for the war. Coincidence, I daresay. Your father had nothing to do with the war. Anyone might fancy pigeons; even a spy can have a hobby.”
    “I thought a spy would be more dashing,” I said. An image of Lord Fai r field darted into my head. Somewhere at the back of my mind there lurked an image of Snoad as well, but it was soon overshadowed by my new noble acquaintance. “This becomes more confusing by the moment,” I said, and drew a deep sigh. “Let us go out for a breath of air. Is your headache better, Auntie?”
    “The tea helped. A breath of air might finish the job. The Royal Pavilion is too far. We’ll stroll along the Marine Parade and enjoy the fresh breeze.”
    “I’ll nip along to see the constable,” Smythe said.
    Aunt Lovatt got him the parcel holding Papa’s jacket and shirt. We both donned our pelisses and bonnets. It was as we were leaving that we discovered the key to the suite was not in the room. We had to stop at the desk to get