“Our mother never allowed us into a tea party,” Walker said, wiping his hand on his shirt.
Sir Oliver made a face. “I don’t wonder why.”
“Were you acquainted with my lady mother, sir?” Mary asked boldly.
Ivy drew a breath. “That’s not an appropriate question.”
Sir Oliver frowned. “I don’t believe so.”
Mary gave a shiver and stepped closer to Ivy.
“Are you ill, child?” She grasped Mary’s hand and motioned at Walker to follow. “Come. Have a sit-down with my sisters. They always make me feel better.”
She whisked the children into the drawing room, aware of the pensive look on Oliver’s face. Hadn’t she used the children’s ailments as an excuse for the physician’s visit to the house? Had Mary recognized his voice from last night? It was unlikely but possible.
But if Mary could put Oliver’s face to the few words he’d spoken, it would seem as if Ivy were hiding Oliver’s visit from James.
The longer she waited to tell him, the worse keeping silent would seem. Should she ask her sisters’ advice? No, not after what they had experienced today. She would wait until Oliver had left the park.
* * *
The three men sat in the study, taking brandy, the details of the death at Fenwick not a subject gentlemen cared to discuss in the presence of ladies. Wendover had put into words what James was thinking: “It’s remarkable to me that those young women can speak of the incident as though it had occurred a decade ago and not today. And how astonishing that they went into action.” He shook his head. “I understand now, James, why there could be no other duchess for you in England.”
James failed to suppress a grin of agreement. “The Fenwick sisters haven’t descended from royalty for nothing. Remarkable, yes, in so many ways. But vulnerable, too.” His gaze fell on Sir Oliver. “Tell me more about the attack.”
Sir Oliver shifted in his chair. “There wasn’t time to think. I was asleep when the men staged their assault. It was early, but the gardener was up catching snails, and Lilac was bringing me my morning tea, despite the fact that she knows I am not an early riser.”
“How inconvenient for you.” James rolled a golden sovereign across his desk.
“I stay up late to write, you understand.”
“And last night?” James said. “The moon was full? It inspired you, and so on?”
“I was up until the sky lightened. I’ve fallen behind in my work, which is why I must leave now for London.”
“What did the men look like?” Wendover asked.
“As I said, I was asleep when they attacked. I ran barefooted down the gatehouse stairs with my gun. Quigley had beaten back his assailant with his rusty old shovel. The second man seemed intent on violating Lilac.”
James caught the sovereign before it reached the edge of the desk and tossed it in the air. He reached for it and missed. “Does it not seem strange that he would commit a sexual act in front of witnesses?”
Sir Oliver looked James in the face. “I have long ago given up searching for reason in the irrationality of mankind. My talents are better put to use writing poetry. I might die in poverty, but at least I shall have invented worlds I can understand.”
“And their description?” Wendover asked again.
“For the last time, my mind was muzzy. The attack happened too quickly to take notes for a fashion magazine. The men wore masks. Did I not say that? The one who escaped appeared to be less agile and perhaps older than his dead accomplice. Or perhaps he seemed slow because Quigley had rendered him several stunning blows while I went to Lilac’s aid. The man I killed was dressed in a gray or brown jacket and trousers. Again, it is difficult to give an exact description as Lilac had battered him with an urn of geraniums before I ended his abuse with my gun.”
James looked down at his desk. “And you heard him command that she yield the treasure?”
A pause. Sir Oliver frowned as if he had to relive the memory, word for word, moment by moment, and James understood why. It wasn’t every day a man interrupted another man in the act of rape and was obligated to make sure that this would be the last woman he ever assaulted.
“I can’t remember the exact order of how everything occurred,” Oliver admitted. “I believe I swore. I—I think I said, ‘Jesus, Joseph, and Mary.’ My voice startled him. He turned to me. I wanted his attention. I needed him to step back from Lilac so that I could have a clear shot. And I—I had asked Rosemary to stand away. I shot to kill, hitting him in the chest. I ran after the other man. Then I came back to Lilac to cover the bloodied corpse.”