“And has she sat to Mr. Lawrence, then?”

“I cannot think it likely! She is not a lady of fashion — that is to say, she lacks a considerable estate, such as must be necessary for the meeting of that gentleman’s fees. But she cultivates all manner of artists and literary figures — or did, in the years before her marriage. Her brother is Mr. Egerton Brydges, the novelist.”

“The author of Fitz-Albini?”

“The same — although I cannot think it the wisest piece he has ever done. It was intended as a cleverly-disguised portrait of his early trials and disappointments — though both the cleverness and the disguise were sadly lacking. He managed to abuse several of his dearest acquaintances, and outrage the remainder. I may declare it the only work of which his family is entirely ashamed.”[53]

“I thought it to offer very little in the way of story,” Lady Desdemona observed, “and that, told in a strange, unconnected way.”

“Then let us not waste upon Mr. Brydges another thought. I mentioned him only as an exemplar of Madam’s connexions. She may, perhaps, be acquainted with Mr. Lawrence through her brother.”

Any reply Lady Desdemona might have made was forestalled by the drawing-room door’s being thrust open with considerable violence. The Earl of Swithin strode into the room, his fair brows knit and his blue eyes snapping.

“Lady Desdemona,” he declared, with a click of his heels. “You are well? No — never mind — do not trouble yourself to answer. I observe you are well enough. In such excellent spirits, in fact — despite the deprivation of your only brother — as to have been entertaining the despicable Mr. Lawrence.”

Lady Desdemona’s curtsey was as chill as her countenance. “Lord Swithin. I am all amazement to find you are thus come upon me unannounced. What possible business could bring you to Laura Place?”

“Convenience,” he retorted. “Had you spared a thought from your own concerns, Mona, you should have observed the carters and waggons opposite.”

She studied him with calculation, then crossed swiftly to a window whose prospect gave out on the square. The curtains twitched wide, and we were treated to a vision of her figure outlined against the glass. Then she wheeled to face the Earl.

“And so you have taken the lodgings opposite, for the express purpose of spying upon me?”

“No other house could be hired, for all the money in the kingdom; and I am not in a temper to suffer the abominable accommodations of the White Hart even a single day longer.”

“I cannot believe you are utterly without acquaintance in Bath, sir, that you must hire a palace for the accommodation of your needs! Surely some lady — Miss Maria Conyngham, perhaps? — should be willing to find you room.”

A smile flickered over the Earl’s set features, but there was little of benevolence in it. “Tit for tat, my dear. Miss Conyngham for Mr. Portal. Or should I say — Mr. Lawrence? You are exceedingly fine for so early in the morning.”

“I shall dress in any manner I please, and see whomever I choose, in Laura Place, my lord — though you do overlook my drawing-room. You will be gratified to learn that Colonel Easton has also called upon me this morning. He is recovering slowly from the effects of your pistols. I was happy to observe that though served with shocking brutality by yourself, the unfortunate Colonel remains the soul of gallantry.” She eyed Lord Swithin with a gleam of amusement. “Easton has also got rid of his whiskers somewhere, and looks remarkably well.”

The Earl dismissed the unfortunate Colonel with a wave of the hand. “Clean-shaven or no, it matters nothing. I know you too well, my dear Mona, to regard such a pitiful pup as a rival. But I would counsel you to beware of Mr. Thomas Lawrence. He is a charming rogue, I will allow, and not ill-favoured — but he has a taste for married women, and the ruin of young ladies not yet out. You will have heard of Lady Caroline Upton, I presume?”

“If you refer to Mrs. James Singleton — then yes, my lord, I have had the pleasure.”

“‘And when no more thy victim can endure / But raging, supplicates thy soul for cure / Then, act the timid unsuspecting maid / And wonder at the mischief thou hast play’d,’” Swithin declaimed. “That is from ‘The Cold Coquette.’ A chastening verse, is it not? Particularly for young ladies too fond of flirtation.”

“I am unacquainted with the poet, sir — but I must hope him better suited to his chosen profession, than he appears to be to verse.”

“Unacquainted with Mr. Lawrence? But he was dancing attendance upon you only a few moments ago! That is your painter’s doggerel, my lady, intended as a rebuke to Lady Caroline Upton — who refused his presumption in seeking to elope with her some two years past.”[54]

“That must be the grossest falsehood!” Lady Desdemona cried, her countenance reddening.

“Forgive me — but it is not. I had it on authority from Templetown himself — the young lady’s brother — while he was decidedly in wine. I see that Lawrence has quite recovered from the affair; and from the daughter of an earl, has progressed to the daughter of a duke.”

“He merely takes my likeness for a portrait, Lord Swithin, at His Grace’s commission. It is, after all, Mr. Lawrence’s path in life.”

The Earl laughed harshly and threw himself into a chair near the fire. “Would that he followed his path with greater fidelity. But instead Mr. Lawrence has chosen to play the man of fashion — adopted all manner of intrigue and display — and is sadly embarrassed for funds. He must very soon contract an advantageous marriage, Mona, if he is to survive. Old Coutts — his banker in Town — has pled his case these three years at least, to little purpose. The man’s creditors are at his throat. He will presume upon the acquaintance, do you allow him.”

“I believe, Lord Swithin, that it is you who presume upon acquaintance,” Lady Desdemona replied evenly. Two spots of colour burned in her cheeks, and her eyes were dark with rage. “It is a presumption familiar now these many months; but hardly one I wish to prolong.”

I reached for my reticule hastily. “I have trespassed already upon your kindness, Lady Desdemona. I hope—”

“—that Lord Swithin’s unexpected arrival will not deter me from our plans of walking out?” she hurriedly supplied. “Not at all, Miss Austen. I shall attend you directly. Only stay for the exchange of my gown, and we shall pursue our scheme as planned. My apologies, Lord Swithin, but it is quite beyond my power to—”

“Don’t be such a fool, Mona,” the gentleman replied wearily. “We have a great deal to discuss. I have been to your brother’s inquest.”

Lady Desdemona sat down abruptly upon a settee, the wind quite gone from her sails. Though propriety instructed I should take myself off, I lingered for Lord Swithin’s intelligence.

“Why is not my uncle come?” Lady Desdemona said in a voice barely above a whisper. “I have been expecting him this half-hour. Well, Swithin? What was the verdict?”

“The jury returned a charge of wilful murder against Lord Kinsfell. He is to be conveyed to Ilchester in a few days’ time.”

She uttered a cry, and covered her face with her hands; and silently abusing the Earl for an oaf and a fool, I hastened to her side.

“The jury could hardly do else,” Lord Swithin added brutally. “Death by misadventure — or wilful murder by persons unknown — just aren’t in it. But nothing more shall happen to Kinny until the Assizes, my dear — and they cannot sit until the middle of January at the earliest. That gives your brother several weeks.”

Unbidden, the portrait of a smouldering grey eye revolved in memory. “Was any new evidence presented, my lord?” I enquired.

His cold blue gaze rested pensively upon me. “I cannot undertake to say, having been absent from the rout myself, and thus ignorant of what passed that evening. Lord Kinsfell was called, and questioned about his discovery of the body; and then a Dr. Gibbs, a physician in Milsom Street, who attended the deceased; two of Her Grace’s guests, who seized poor Kinsfell as he attempted to revive Mr. Portal — and one of the chairmen, dragged in off the street by your uncle, Mona, and quite put out at the interruption of his commerce.”