A Body in Berkeley Square (25 page)

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Chapter Fifteen

Mrs. Harper lifted her head. "And if I tell
you I have no idea where the bloody letter is, will you believe
me?"

"I will, actually."

She looked surprised then skeptical. "You
will? Why?"

"Because I know Colonel Brandon better than
you do."

She stared at me a moment then sagged back
into her chair. "Oh, what does it matter? No, Captain, I do not
have the letter. I begged and begged Aloysius to give it to me, but
he would not."

"But you do have the draft for the five
hundred guineas that Brandon gave Mr. Turner, do you not?"

"Yes, I found it in the pocket of Mr.
Turner's coat. I took it and put it into my reticule."

"You searched his dead body for it. I admire
your coolness."

"I was anything but cool! Believe me,
Captain, when I screamed, I did so from the heart. Mr. Turner was
still warm when I searched his pockets. It was ghastly. But I knew
I had to take the money away before someone else found it. When I
saw that I'd gotten his blood on my glove, it sent me into a
horrified panic. I do not know much of what happened after
that."

"Grenville sat you down and gave you brandy.
He also took your glove away."

"Yes, he did." Mrs. Harper drew a long
breath. "When I could no longer see the blood, I calmed somewhat.
Even so, my maids had to take me home. It was awful."

"You made the Bow Street magistrate feel
sorry for you. He did not want to summon you there for
questioning."

"No." Her lips thinned. "Sir Nathaniel came
here, instead."

"And what did you tell him?"

"That I'd danced and talked and done things
one does at a ball. Yes, I stepped away with Colonel Brandon to
speak to him privately, and why should I not? I went to the
anteroom later to snatch a quiet moment and found Mr. Turner."

"This is the story you told the
magistrates?"

"Yes."

I took a sip of tea, which was weak and too
sweet. "You and Colonel Brandon tell slightly different stories. He
admitted to Sir Nathaniel that he spent most of his time with you
and that you were upset by Mr. Turner's insolence more than once.
So much so that Brandon had to stalk out of the ballroom to find
you a glass of sherry at the moment Turner was being murdered."

She flushed. "I never wanted to find Mr.
Turner dead in the anteroom. My sole purpose in attending the ball
was to obtain the letter and destroy it."

"So his death and Brandon's arrest
inconvenience you greatly."

"Inconvenience?" Mrs. Harper sprang to her
feet. "It has been hell, Captain Lacey. I do not know where the
letter is. Colonel Brandon might be hanged for murder. Now you tell
me that Colonel Naveau has come from France to ruin us all."

I came to my feet with her. "How can he ruin
you? What is this letter?"

She stopped, her eyes steady. "What do you
believe it is?"

"I first thought it a love letter between you
and Brandon, but I only assumed that. You never corrected me, and
neither did he. I have since learned that it is a document that
Colonel Naveau very much wants returned. You and Brandon have each
told me that the pair of you had an affair, but is that true?"

Mrs. Harper nodded. "We did. At Vitoria, just
after my husband's death."

"You were grieving," I said, "and alone, and
he was helpful."

"I was not simply grieving. I was devastated.
I loved my husband desperately. I was so angry that he'd been taken
from me, and I was also in a good deal of trouble. Colonel Brandon
was there. He was strong and helped me, and he was . . . I cannot
explain what he was to me. I should not have surrendered to him; I
felt the betrayal of my husband, but I could not help myself. I
admired Aloysius, and I was so grateful."

She broke off. But I understood. Brandon
could be a compelling leader when he chose. He needed followers and
needed to be admired, and Aloysius Brandon had the confidence and
the strength to make men follow him. I had felt the same pull when
I'd first met him, the compulsion to do anything for him.

"Why were you in a great deal of trouble?" I
asked.

"Because of my husband, Major Harper. He'd
done a terrible thing. And I was afraid, so afraid that he'd be
disgraced, even in death, stripped of his rank, branded a traitor.
And I would be branded a traitor's wife. I did not understand the
horror until I went through my husband's things in preparation to
return to England. I did not know where to turn. Brandon,
unbelievably, said he'd help me."

"I am supposing that your husband had
dealings with this Colonel Naveau?"

The look she sent me was filled with appeal.
Though she did not have the beauty of Lady Breckenridge or Louisa,
I was touched by the need in her eyes.

"Mrs. Harper," I said. "My purpose today is
to prove that Colonel Brandon did not murder Henry Turner. I am not
here to condemn your husband for what he might have done in the
past, or you for helping him. The war is over. What happened then
no longer matters to me."

"It ought to matter," she said savagely.
"What my husband did could have cost lives, the lives of your men.
Perhaps your own life, if you'd been unlucky."

"Naveau was an exploring officer," I said.
"Did your husband pass him information?"

"That is what I discovered when I went
through his things. My husband had been taking money from Colonel
Naveau in exchange for dispatches."

I let out a breath. Spying could be a
lucrative game but a deadly one. If her husband had been caught
sending information to the French, he would have been tried for
treason. Shot at best, drawn and quartered at worst. Major Harper
had been fortunate to die in battle.

I did not tell the entire truth when I said I
no longer cared what had happened on the Peninsula. Men who sold
secrets were the worst of humanity. A dispatch sent to the enemy
could destroy battle plans and slaughter thousands of soldiers, for
nothing.

"What did you do?" I asked quietly.

"I destroyed all his papers." Mrs. Harper
quirked a brow at me. "What would you have me do, Captain, run at
once to his colonel and confess that he'd been selling secrets to
the French? My first loyalty was to my husband, who had been good
to me. I destroyed every last scrap of evidence that he'd done
anything wrong. But then, only a few days after my husband's death,
Colonel Naveau sent a message. It was sheerest good luck that I
found it before my husband's batman did. The message was odd, but I
understood that Naveau was waiting for something. I did not know
what to do. So I confessed to Aloysius and swore him to
secrecy."

"And he agreed?" I was baffled. Brandon was a
stickler for proper behavior in a soldier, in an officer, in a
gentleman.

"Aloysius agreed to say nothing. My husband
was dead--he'd died honorably, saving other men. And Aloysius did
not want dishonor or punishment to fall on me. He suggested we send
a message to Colonel Naveau explaining that Major Harper was dead
and to leave me alone."

Bloody hell.
"That was unwise and not
even necessary. Naveau was a professional exploring officer. If he
received no more word from your husband, he would conclude that his
source had dried up, and he'd turn elsewhere. Likely he would have
heard of your husband's death on his own, in time."

"But Naveau's message frightened me. He did
not know when he wrote it that my husband was dead. He was angry
and threatened to reveal to Wellington what my husband had been
doing. Colonel Brandon wrote a letter to Naveau, in French, and
somehow got it delivered to him; I have no idea how he managed it.
As a peace offering, he included a dispatch that Naveau had been
asking for."

"Good God."

"Yes, he risked much for me."

I had been angry at Aloysius Brandon in the
past, but my rage rose to new heights today. "He did risk much. He
risked ignominious death and ruin for himself and his family. And
for what? Your pretty eyes? Did he ask you to elope with him?"

Mrs. Harper looked perplexed. "He asked me to
marry him, yes. How did you know?"

"Because I was at the other end of the
matter. Did you know that he planned to leave his wife for you? You
must be a remarkable woman to lure him from Louisa Brandon, who I
assure you is quite remarkable herself."

She flushed a dull red. "I refused him. He
was very excited after we'd delivered the message and begged me to
marry him once he obtained the annulment of his marriage. But I
could not. I'd loved my husband dearly. I did not want to rush to
another man as though my husband had meant nothing to me. So I
turned Aloysius away."

"Yet you admit that you had an affair with
him," I said.

"A very brief one. I was afraid and alone, as
you said, and needed comfort. Then I told him to go."

Which he'd done. Brandon had returned to his
wife to discover that Louisa had run to me in her distress. He'd
been furious and would not believe that she and I had not had a
liaison. But if Brandon had been indulging himself in another
woman's bed, small wonder he'd instantly believed I'd indulged his
wife in mine.

"And you returned to England?" I asked.

"To Scotland, actually. My sister had married
a man from Edinburgh, and they invited me to live in their house.
She has two small children, and they welcomed me as part of the
family. It was a peaceful existence."

"Until this spring?"

Mrs. Harper moved back to a chair and sank
into it. "I received a letter from Henry Turner in February. He
said he had the very letter that Aloysius had written to Colonel
Naveau. How he came by it and how he found me, I do not know. Mr.
Turner instructed me to come to London and to pay him the sum of
five hundred guineas, or else he would take the letter to the Horse
Guards and proclaim that my husband and I and Colonel Brandon had
been traitors together."

Now I understood Brandon's outrage at Turner.
I felt it myself.

She went on. "I hurried to London and wrote
to Aloysius. I was petrified. And he . . ." Her eyes sparkled with
anger. "At first Aloysius wanted nothing to do with me. He said
bluntly that our affair was long ago, that he and his wife were
happy, that I should cease to pester him. I was furious with him.
He had as much to lose as I did."

"I read the letters you wrote back to him.
You declared that both your names would be revealed. I took it to
mean that your love affair would be made public."

"Aloysius finally agreed to help, though he
was not best pleased about it. Turner wanted to meet us at the
Gillises' ball, knowing that Colonel Brandon and his wife had been
invited. So we made the appointment and brought him the money."

"And then Brandon made a mare's nest of it."
I shook my head. "I do not know why anyone would suppose Colonel
Brandon could do anything covert. He got himself talked about,
upset his wife, and was arrested for murder."

To my surprise, Mrs. Harper smiled. "I do not
think he anticipated being arrested for murder, Captain. As for
Aloysius being ham-handed, the result was that people only talked
of us having an indiscreet affair. They did not guess the worst of
it. Even you did not."

She made a good point. "I admit that I was
sorely misdirected."

Mrs. Harper studied her hands in her lap. "I
regret hurting Mrs. Brandon. She does not deserve this."

"No, she does not." I resumed my seat. "Tell
me exactly what happened at the ball. You might still believe that
Colonel Brandon killed Turner to keep him quiet, but I do not. If
he successfully obtained the letter from Turner, there was no need
to murder him. Unless Turner had something more on you?"

Mrs. Harper shook her head. "There was
nothing else. Just that letter. And Aloysius said he'd made the
exchange."

"Tell me again what happened."

"I want so much to forget what happened, and
everyone wants me to remember." She rubbed her forehead. "It is
true that Aloysius called too much attention to me--to us. But I
feared Mr. Turner, and I did not want Aloysius to leave my side.
Aloysius was angry at Mr. Turner, but also at me. Mr. Turner did
offer to dance with me several times, but I knew that he simply
wanted to talk alone with me. Aloysius chased him away."

Lady Aline's version of events confirmed
this. "The meeting was set for eleven o'clock? In the
anteroom?"

"Eleven, yes. Aloysius told me that I was not
to go, although I wanted to see the letter for myself. But he was
adamant, and I obeyed. He and Turner went into the anteroom
together. No one followed. Not five minutes later, Aloysius
emerged, rather red in the face, and Mr. Turner came out behind
him. Aloysius took me to an alcove and told me that the deed was
done."

"Colonel Brandon provided the payment as
well?"

"He insisted. I did not protest too much.
While I am of comfortable means, I cannot part with five hundred
guineas with impunity. Aloysius spoke of the sum as almost
trivial."

"Brandon has a large income. When he spoke to
you in the alcove, did he show you the paper?"

"He refused. He told me he had it, and I was
not to worry."

"If it was in his handwriting, he'd be
anxious to keep it," I reflected. "But Brandon did not have the
letter when he was arrested. Do you have any idea what he did with
it?"

"None. I was agitated, not surprisingly so.
Aloysius told me that he would find me some sherry, and left me. I
stayed in the alcove, trying to catch my breath. Then, when he was
a long time coming, I decided to emerge. Others would wonder what I
did there so long. I tried to behave normally and have a
conversation with Lady Gillis, but I was too agitated. I decided to
sit alone in the anteroom. But when I entered, I found Mr.
Turner."