An Old Betrayal: A Charles Lenox Mystery (Charles Lenox Mysteries) Read Online Free PDF Page B

cards?”
    “Chepstow is a town in Wales, sir.”
    “I was being humorous.”
    Graham smiled wryly. “Ah—no doubt, sir.”
    “What do I have between now and lunch?”
    “You are meeting with Lord Cabot, sir.”
    “Push him till tomorrow if you could.”
    “Of course, sir.”
    “You think there will be a vote tonight?”
    “At any rate I shouldn’t miss the session, in case there is.”
    Lenox sighed. “Thank you, Graham.”
    “Sir.”
    Lenox did three hours of hard work then, focused intently on drafting a memorandum about the mining bill that was to come before the House the next week. There were also visitors every fifteen or twenty minutes. Once he had made such pilgrimages himself, to the upstairs offices, but as he had grown more senior he found that it was the junior members who called upon him. They wanted any variety of thing; some came to him with ideas, others with requests. Often enough they only wanted to see Graham. In league with the other front-bench secretaries, he controlled the schedule of important meetings, and all of them brokered their masters’ votes like experienced men of the turf.
    Just after one o’clock Lenox took his hat and cloak and went down to his carriage, which was waiting in the lane outside, alongside a dozen similar ones; nearby was the beautiful pale rise of Westminster Abbey, a whiter shade of stone than the golden Parliament buildings, its intricate details somehow reminiscent of the folds and multiplicities of the world, indeed of God. Lenox stopped and looked for a moment, then got into the carriage and tapped its side. He intended to have his luncheon at home, because he needed some of the papers from his desk. Of course, he might have sent Frabbs or one of the other clerks to fetch them, but it would give him a chance also to look in on Jane and Sophia.
    When he arrived home Lady Jane was busy in the long dining room, which she had decided to decorate anew; as far as he could recall she had been engaged in this activity roughly since the dawn of time, when men first stirred forth upon the plain. It had been the subject of one of their many stylistic disagreements upon joining households, though he always immediately ceded to her taste. (“Sideboard jammed stiff with dishes,” she had said, teasing him, “and the same red flocked wallpaper the gentleman who sold you the house assured you was fashionable twenty years ago.”) She had changed the curtains out for lighter ones, the dark carpet for a pale blue one, and the smoky mahogany cabinets for plain shelves of fresh rosewood. Lenox had to admit it made the room seem cheerier. At the moment workmen were painting the walls a plain Regency white.
    “Hello, my dear,” said Lenox, as she came halfway down the front hall to meet him. “How has your morning been?”
    They kissed and sat down upon a small blue sofa in an alcove near the door.
    She was in a cross mood. “Oh, it was wonderful, except for the six gallons of tea. Really, I call it absurd. If you so much as look in upon someone to wish her good day you are forced, by convention, to sit to a cup of tea, no matter how urgent your business elsewhere is—six teas an hour—the Chinamen may take it back, for all I care. No Englishman ever died of drinking water.”
    Lenox smiled. “In point of fact, that is false. We are nearly certain that cholera is waterborne. Tell me, though, did you see Toto?”
    “No. I thought it best to leave her alone for the morning. I’ll stop in this afternoon.”
    “What did Duch think of it all?”
    “How did you know I went to her?”
    “There was never a greater tea giver. Besides, you see her nearly every day. Does she know Dallington is sick?”
    The Duchess of Marchmain was Dallington’s mother. “Yes, and she’s worried sick over it herself. I can’t think how she found out, for I know that he wouldn’t have told her himself.”
    “Mrs. Lucas, I don’t doubt,” said Lenox.
    “As for Toto, Duch predicts it