The Riddle of the Lost Lover by Patricia Veryan

“For it is not important, and so very funny.” Receiving a resigned nod from the duchess, she said, her eyes sparkling, “He hunts— rugs! Is it not the strangest hobby?”
    â€œRugs?” Manderville shook his head. “Sounds as if he has a vacancy in the upper storey, Jack!”
    â€œSome rugs can be valuable,” pointed out Broderick. “In fact—”
    â€œDesist, for mercy’s sake,” groaned Manderville. “A lecture on rug-making we do not need. What we’ve to do now is try to put it all together as Lady Francesca said, and see what we’ve got—do you agree, Captain, sir?”
    â€œI do, but I must tell you first how grateful I am for all the time you’ve spent, trying to help me.”
    â€œWhy not?” said Manderville. “We enjoy your hospitality.”
    Broderick declared, “I don’t. Not for much longer, at all events. Been recalled. I was at the Horse Guards this morning, and the doctors say I’m perfectly fit again.”
    Consuela and the duchess greeted this news with mixed feelings, but Vespa said heartily, “Congratulations! That’s good news indeed. Are you for France, then?”
    â€œNext week. I’m pleased, of course, but I don’t much like leaving you in the middle of this bog.”
    â€œYou may be à l’aise, ” said Manderville. “I shall stand by Jack, staunch and true, as ever. The Army won’t have me yet.” He moved his arm tentatively. “Shoulder. Still stiff, y’know. And I shall now contribute my soupçon of information, which really tells us nothing, yet says a good deal, I think. While Toby was ensconced with the medical monsters, I called in at Bow Street again. You will be interested to learn, Jack, that there is no record of any street brawl the night before last involving your esteemed self; that there was no murder done in London Town; and that Colonel the Honourable Hastings Adair has not set foot on British soil for the last six weeks, at least. In other words, friends, Romans and so forth, something very sticky is afoot, and Consuela’s colonel is up to his ears in the glue.”
    Vespa nodded. “Not much doubt of that. Certainly, they don’t want us sticking our noses in whatever it is. Well, at least we tried to help Adair.”
    â€œWho is not my colonel,” murmured Consuela pertly.
    Vespa smiled at her, and went on: “Then we shall leave him to his own devices and do as Paige suggested. Please interrupt if you think of something I’ve overlooked. It seems to me that the most likely candidate we’ve found thus far is a gentleman much disliked by Sir Kendrick, and who is out of the country a good deal of the time. We have several clues as to his identity. One is that both his first and last names contain the same two letters in succession. Also, we believe he may have an estate in Suffolk. And, lastly, his hobby is to hunt—rugs. Not a great deal, I admit. But it’s a start.”
    Broderick pointed out, “Your surest route would be to sail at once for South America and try to wheedle the truth out of Lady Faith.”
    â€œOh, absolutely. But the courier my great-uncle despatched must surely reach my mother long before I could get there, and she may well decide to return at once. There is the risk that if I now sail, our ships may pass each other in mid-ocean, and—” he met Consuela’s eyes steadily “it would take a year, at least. I think I do not want to wait that long.”
    Consuela blushed, and there was a small silence.
    Lady Francesca, who had been frowning at Manderville’s purple coat, said suddenly, “I cannot like that colour, and I have find something we forget, Captain Jack. It is the castle. Did not your man tell you this same gentleman have a castle somewhere?”
    â€œYes. But he didn’t know where, save that it was not in