Chapter 8London, August 24, 1885
Track One
On Tuesday, the twenty-fourth of August, in the year of our Lord eighteen hundred and eighty five, the bottom fell out of Maxwell’s world. Again.
Seward had always been less circumspect than he liked to believe himself. He was simply too notable a figure, too strong a personality, to fade into the background as the mastermind of a conspiracy must. Maxwell had warned him of this fact more than once—and Katarina had seemed to agree, no surprise there—but she had too much respect for Seward to openly challenge him, and Maxwell alone had not been able to persuade the nobleman to change his ways. Seward’s conspiracy would have been safer if Seward had kept his hands completely off it, but that was perhaps an unreasonable expectation. He had started
