Professor Lyall produced a stylographic pen from his waistcoat and passed it to her. Alexia nodded her thanks.
“You really believe that this new threat has some connection to the old Kingair attempt?” he asked while she made a note in the margin of one of the journals.
“It seems likely.”
“Your evidence appears to be circumstantial at best.”
“Never discount serendipity. Would you be so kind as to have some of these potions analyzed? Also, I should like to see BUR’s report regarding the Kingair failed assassination and my husband’s subsequent challenge for Woolsey Alpha, plus any corresponding postings in the popular press.”
Professor Lyall looked rather pained. “If you insist, my lady.”
“I do.”
“Give me a few hours to organize everything? The laboratory will take some time with those samples—several days, at least—but I shall bring the other items you requested back with me.”
“Oh, no need. I shall jaunt to BUR after I call on Madame Lefoux and file the appropriate requisition forms myself.”
“Ah, had you intended—?”
“Not until I traced this OBO connection. Of course, Genevieve would have had nothing to do with OBO operations twenty years ago, being only a small child, but still it is worth making inquiries. She knows things. Not to mention the fact that Ivy ran into a ghost in that area the other night. Can’t possibly be the same ghost—no tether stretches so far—but there must be a connection to our mysterious messenger.”
“If you must, my lady. But this time do please take Biffy with you.”
“Of course. I shall be glad of the company. Shall we go in to supper?”
Professor Lyall nodded gratefully and they arose to make their way to the dining room.
“What ho, wife?”
Conall Maccon thumped down the stairs looking far more pulled together than Alexia had ever seen him in all their acquaintance. His cravat, a becoming ethereal azure that perfectly complemented his tawny eyes, was tied Nabog style over unusually high collar points. His shirt was tucked to perfection, his waistcoat seamless, and the sleeves of his jacket just so. As a direct result, he was also looking rather uncomfortable.
“My goodness, husband. How handsome you are this evening! Did the drones get hold of you?”
The earl give his wife a very telling stare before sweeping down upon her and planting a kiss on her lips right in front of the embarrassed gazes of Lyall, Floote, and a small number of household staff.
Alexia’s limited mobility prevented her from any evasive maneuvers. Like some wanton hussy, she could do nothing but endure his amorous attentions with blushes and sputterings of delighted horror.
He pulled back finally. “Excellent, best way to start one’s evening. Wouldn’t you agree, gentlemen?”
Professor Lyall rolled his eyes at his Alpha’s antics, and Floote bustled quickly off about his business.
They entered the dining room. During the course of Alexia’s conversation with Professor Lyall, most of the rest of the current town residents—two werewolves and a few assorted clavigers—had arisen and assembled around the table. They all stood politely as Lady Maccon seated herself before returning to prior conversation or consumption, depending upon personality. Biffy, seated slightly apart from the others, was pretending deep absorption in the latest issue of Le Beaux Assemblée, otherwise known as Beau’s Court and Fashionable Magazine Addressed Particularly to the Gentleman of Leisure. Lord Maccon frowned at him, but the dandy didn’t seem to notice.
Alexia helped herself to a bowl of stewed fruit, plum pudding, and custard. After some conversation with her husband on domestic matters, she turned his attention to her own recent investigations.
“You didn’t!”
“I most assuredly did. And now I have need of the carriage. I should like to visit Madame Lefoux before calling at BUR for the documentation Professor Lyall promised me.”
Lord Maccon gave his Beta a repressive look.
Professor Lyall shrugged, as though to say, You married her.
“Alexia,” Lord Maccon said in a drawn-out growl, “you know I am not comfortable with that particular incident resurfacing. I shouldn’t like you to be stirring up trouble over an event well and truly settled.”
Lady Maccon, perfectly understanding that the nature of his growl was not one of anger but of distress, put down her fork and placed her hand over his. “But you must acknowledge that if there is a connection, we should pursue all avenues of investigation. I promise to keep my attention focused on the relevant details and not be distracted by personal curiosity.”
Lord Maccon sighed.
Lady Maccon lowered her voice, although she was perfectly well aware that she was surrounded by beings with supernatural hearing who could discern every word she said. “I know this is a subject that pains you, my love, but if we are to get to the root of this matter, you must see that there may indeed be a correlation.”
He nodded. “But have a care, please, my heart? I fear you are messing with matters best left undisturbed.”
A stillness in the crinkling of Professor Lyall’s evening paper seemed to indicate the Beta was entirely in agreement with his Alpha on this point.
Alexia nodded and let go of her husband. She glanced up and across the table. “Biffy, would you be amenable to accompanying me this evening as I make my rounds? I should appreciate the companionship of one more mobile than myself.”