Текст книги "The Counterfeit Lady"

Автор книги: Kate Parker

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CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

A tap on the door was followed by Phyllida walking in, beaming. “Good morning. A few of the ladies are going to the pump room today to take the waters. Do you feel up to joining us?”

Emma and I exchanged a guilty look, since we’d just been discussing my getting run down deliberately. “I’d better rest my foot until tonight. I’d like to be able to dance, and I think the more rest I give it now, the better it’ll be for the ball.”

She shut the door and walked closer. “Is there something going on I should know about?”

I took her hand. My answer was as honest as I could make it when I said, “We don’t want you mixed up in anything dangerous. But if someone should let something odd slip in the course of the day’s conversation, please let us know.”

She appeared to shrink into herself. With a timid voice, she asked, “How will I know if it’s odd?”

“Phyllida, you know how these people think and talk and move. You can spot the one false note in an entire symphony of aristocratic chatter. You’ll know if something’s off.”

Her smile turned more confident. “When we return, I’ll tell you everything I hear. Now, rest that ankle. The duke plans to waltz with you, and he won’t take no for an answer.”

He never did, but this time, I was glad.

The day passed slowly. Rosamond Peters and Lark Bennett came by my room separately to see if I could join them on their jaunt to the pump room to taste the spring waters. Lady Peters seemed genuinely concerned for me. Lady Bennett smiled like a snake who’d already bitten her prey.

Emma brought more ice for my foot. After my skin became cool to the touch, I tried standing. The injured foot ached, and I had a nasty bruise, but both feet bore my weight equally well.

I looked up from where I stared at the floor to Emma and said, “I can do it. The carriage struck me with a sharp blow, but I didn’t twist anything. Let me keep ice on it for the day, and tonight I’ll be ready for a dozen conspiracies.”

“Good, because we have no idea what’s going to happen.”

“Emma, see if you can find out where the valets and lady’s maids spend their time during dinner and the ball. You’ll be able to tell quicker if the baron’s valet is missing that way. And I suspect the baron won’t want to get his hands dirty with the plans if he can help it.” I put my foot back up on the bed with the ice.

“Do you want me to watch from wherever the servants gather rather than at your window?”

“Start with where they wait. If you don’t have any luck there, then try my window. Do you know where Sumner is going to be?”

Emma shook her head. “The duke sent me into the house. I don’t think he wanted me to know.”

“The duke doesn’t like to share information. Unfortunately, it makes solving crimes more complicated for the rest of us.” I didn’t hide the grumble in my tone. Peers might think they were above everyone else, but that attitude created nothing but problems.

“I heard from Sir Broderick. Fogarty and three others are coming out here on the morning train. They’ll be waiting on the road up to the estate and in the park for Snelling.”

“All city dwellers. I wonder how they’ll blend in on an estate.” I was worried for my fellow Archivist Society members. We were all Londoners, and to us this rural area could be on a different planet. We would stand out, and someone wanted us dead.

Emma grinned. “Snelling has the same problem. He’s a Londoner, too.”

“Have you heard how much support we’ll get from the local bobbies?”

“None. They seem to think if the Metropolitan Police can’t handle spies, it certainly isn’t their job. Lord Harwin will no doubt send for them if he needs someone to make an arrest.”

“Wonderful. How did you find all this out?”

“Blackford’s valet. He’s a nice older man who worked for the duke’s father originally. He passes messages discreetly without displaying any interest in what’s going on.”

With a sigh, I swung my legs over the side of the bed. “Help me get dressed and downstairs for luncheon. It’s time I started considering where and how those plans could be brought into the house tonight.”

I was tired of lying around. It was past time for me to get involved in this investigation.

I couldn’t pull my half boot on, let alone lace it up tightly to protect my ankle. The only shoe I could get on my tender, swollen foot was my dancing slipper, so I wore the pair with an afternoon dress. The black satin slippers looked silly with the high-necked, accordion-pleated top in lavender and a simply cut skirt in the same color decorated with beige lace. I hoped either no one noticed or my skirt hid the slippers from view. Being thought a Philistine wouldn’t help me escape notice as I hunted for the burglar and the naval plans.

I was able to climb down the stairs on my own with the aid of the massive banister and wandered the main floor without drawing attention to myself. The house was huge. Any hope of catching anyone doing anything in all these rooms seemed impossible.

I found the dining room almost by accident and discovered more than a half-dozen people seated around the huge polished table enjoying their first course. The men rose as I entered. I wasn’t surprised to see the duke, Lord Harwin, Baron von Steubfeld, and Sir Henry Stanford. The presence of two other men, Sir William Darby from Whitehall’s spy apparatus and Mr. Frederick Nobles, Scotland Yard’s liaison with Whitehall, did surprise me. And I was puzzled to see an older man at the table with the youngster who nearly ran me down the day before.

“Mrs. Monthalf,” the butler intoned.

The men all nodded to me.

“Well, I’m glad to see she hasn’t suffered any lasting injury,” the older man grumbled.

The younger man smiled at me. “So am I. Please believe me when I say I am grievously sorry for my actions.”

He was too much of a young rogue, grinning boyishly at me, to believe him, but I decided forgiveness would pay better results. “All will be forgiven if I can dance a waltz with the duke tonight.”

“I certainly hope so. You’re far too pretty to be sitting on the sidelines,” the young man said.

I smiled at the compliment as the butler produced a chair next to the duke and set a place at the table for me. Blackford said, “Georgina, this is the Marquis of Tewes and his younger son, Lord Charles Wilson. Gentlemen, Mrs. Georgina Monthalf.”

As soon as I sat, a bowl of soup appeared silently in front of me and the men returned to their lunch. Sir William sat across from me, and I wasn’t certain if I should know his name. “Excuse me. The accident seemed to have rattled my brains. Have we met?”

Sir William Darby flashed a glance at the duke and said, “I don’t believe so.”

The duke made the introductions. We made small talk through luncheon, when I learned that Sir William and Mr. Nobles were in the neighborhood and stopped by to pay their respects to our host, a friend of Sir William’s father. Lady Harwin, leaving on the outing with her guests, had invited them to the ball that evening, and Lord Harwin had invited them to lunch.

I was amazed at how, in the rarified world of the aristocracy, everyone knew everyone else.

After luncheon, Mr. Nobles asked to see the garden. When the rest of the men went outside, Sir William delayed, fascinated by some paintings. I expressed an interest in the same paintings, and we began to study them together.

Even with everyone else outside, Sir William spoke quietly. “We have Snelling under watch in the village. When he comes out here tonight, we’ll follow to see the handoff and then grab everyone at once. If it’s one of the Germans, we’ll be able to recover the drawings but we’ll have to let the man go. Diplomatic immunity and all that.”

“‘If’?”

“It could be an English partygoer who’ll act as the middleman.”

“Lady Bennett,” I said. “Or Sir Henry?”

“Quite possibly.”

“And our role?”

“Keep a close eye on the attendees at the ball. If one of them slips out of the room, follow them, but don’t engage. We will handle that part of the plan.”

“Four members of the Archivist Society will be out on the grounds, aiding the hunt for Snelling. If you don’t move fast enough, we will engage.” I stared at Sir William until he looked away.

When he looked back at me, he was smiling. “I believe you would.”

“Good. Now, do you have any idea about what time this will occur?”

“All we know is tonight.”

“Have you checked out all the guests at the other big houses nearby?”

“Everyone checks out, although”—he hesitated—“our inquiries didn’t go very deep.”

“So everyone at the ball tonight is a possible suspect. Wonderful.”

Sir William glanced at me. “The only people we’ll need to watch at the ball will be people with a connection to Baron von Steubfeld.”

I gave up any pretense of studying the paintings. “We don’t know for certain von Steubfeld’s role in the theft. The Germans could be one of a handful of bidders. Stanford, or someone we haven’t considered, might be trying to sell the plans for cash.”

“Then we won’t know who’s behind this until Snelling makes his move.” Sir William didn’t look happy.

“Precisely.” How I would love to learn who’d hired Snelling before the ball.

“We talked to Sir Jonah Denby. He knows nothing about the missing warship blueprints. He’s never heard of you. He seemed quite amazed that anyone would think he was interested in a theft.”

“And you believe him?”

“Yes.”

Sir William sounded so certain that I asked, “What does he look like?”

“Like any other midlevel civil servant.”

“Does he have green eyes? Does he walk quickly? Does he have weathered skin?”

“He has pale skin and walks with a limp. He has a withered leg, so he’s never been an outdoorsman. Uses a cane to get around.” Sir William thought for a moment. “His eyes are pale. I don’t remember the color.”

A chill ran down my arms. “Definitely not the same man.”

“Then who is he?” Sir William asked.

That was the question. He knew my real name, and he was out there somewhere following our investigation. Had he sent the threatening letters? I wished I’d sought a physical description of Denby earlier and not worried so much about his job and his associates.

The sound of a door opening and footsteps made me turn back to the painting. Sir William said, “I’d better get Nobles or he’ll drag everyone around to look at every plant. He’s fascinated by gardens.”

“He was beyond me as soon as he said something other than ‘rose’ or ‘daisy.’” Sir Henry came forward and nodded to us. Sir William returned the nod and retraced Sir Henry’s steps.

I said, “I’d like to speak to you, Sir Henry.”

“About Clara’s death? Or other matters?”

“Yes.”

He shrugged his shoulders. “Let’s go into the library. We won’t be interrupted there.”

We walked down the hall, Sir Henry certain of our destination. After we entered, he closed the door and stood there, waiting for me to speak.

Sir Henry expected me to be meek as befitting a traditionally raised widow. That was far from my background, but I’d found it was better to conform to the other person’s image of me if I wanted the answers to the questions I asked. I recited Be meek in my mind a few times before I looked at the Oriental carpet and said, “What do you want me to do?”

“Search Lady Peters’s room.”

My gaze flew to his face. “Why?”

“She has something of mine that I want.”

“What is this thing?”

“A letter from me to a member of the Admiralty upper echelon, requesting a chance to bid on the new warship. In the same letter, I mentioned that his nephew had expressed an interest in a management position in the shipyard and I would be making my choice soon. I considered them to be two separate issues, but Lady Peters said the letter is open to interpretation.”

I agreed with Lady Peters. Although Sir Henry would deny it, my interpretation would be bribery. “How did she get the letter?”

“She was being squired about town by Lord Hastings at the time I wrote the letter. She must have stolen it from him,” Sir Henry grumbled.

Lord Hastings was in the highest levels of the Admiralty. Having heard its contents, I wanted to get the letter. Once I had it, I didn’t plan to hand the letter over to Sir Henry. “What does this letter look like?”

“Two pages, good paper, embossed with my company’s name. Go upstairs and do it now while the ladies are out taking the waters.”

“Why do you think the letter is in her room? Why wouldn’t she have left it in London?”

“She brought it along this week to exchange for Gattenger’s blueprints.”

I struggled to keep my voice calm. “You have the blueprints Clara was killed over? I thought you loved her.”

“Oh, I did. Unlike Gattenger, I valued Clara. I adored her. I would never allow her to be harmed.”

“But she was killed by the person who stole the blueprints. Did you hire the thief?”

He grabbed my arms, but not hard like he had before. “I didn’t hire him. I believed Gattenger burned the drawings until you told me he was certain the ship was what he’d promised. That’s when I went looking for the thief.”

“You found him?” That was news. Blackford and I had had no luck speaking to him.

“Yes. It wasn’t easy, but I caught up to him here, in Cheltenham Spa. I offered him a great deal of money, I begged, but none of it did any good. He said he’d made a deal and if he wanted to live, he’d carry it out. And he said he had the blueprints hidden well.”

I tried to put awe in my voice. “That was very brave of you, meeting Clara’s killer.”

“I had no choice. Lady Peters won’t return my letter without the blueprints. Since I can’t buy them or steal them, I need you to retrieve my letter.”

“Did he say who this dangerous man is who hired him?”

He made a face and dropped his hold on my arms. “No. It doesn’t matter. What matters is for you to go upstairs now while the ladies are still gone and get my letter.”

“Why did you think Ken Gattenger would burn his warship design and kill Clara? You knew them. Ken told me his ship will sail and perform as expected. He’s never been wrong before. Why didn’t you trust him this time?”

“I overheard one of the clerks in the records room talking to another man. Those clerks know all about the mathematics of ship design. He found the design so flawed he was surprised the ship would float. That’s when I asked Gattenger.”

“The day the ship blueprints were stolen and Clara was killed?”

He nodded.

The clerk could be the one on the German payroll that Jacob was trying to identify. In that case, the conversation could have been set up to start questions specifically to get Gattenger to take a set of the blueprints home with him.

“Ken said you threatened him with ruin over a flaw in the design.” Threatening someone with ruin seemed to be Sir Henry’s usual method of operation.

“Gattenger is a genius, but since he married Clara, it’s been hard to get him to focus. He looked panicked when I asked him. Why would he panic if there wasn’t a problem? I decided I needed to force him to give me a straight answer as quickly as possible. The bids are due, and I couldn’t risk spending money on something that wouldn’t work.”

One thing stood out in my mind. “Your shipyard is in trouble financially?”

“My shipyard has nothing to do with this. We all need to know how seaworthy this warship is for the good of Britain.”

I pressed on the point I wanted him to admit. “Your shipyard is in jeopardy.”

“Not in jeopardy,” he hissed out between his teeth.

“On the edge of bankruptcy?”

“No. Not on the edge. Not really. The improvements I’ve made to the efficiency of the yard just haven’t paid off yet. It’s been touch-and-go. If I build his ship, I’ll do it faster and better than anyone, but it has to work. If it sinks, my boatyard sinks with it.”

His financial troubles gave him a strong motive to make Gattenger recalculate his equations rather than steal the plans.

Before I could ask another question, he had my arm and was walking me toward the door. “Get up there and get the letter.”

“All right. You wait down here. Her maid may be up there and we don’t want her to get suspicious. Why does Lady Peters want warship blueprints?”

“She wouldn’t tell me.”

I stopped him before he opened the door. “One more thing. How often did Lady Bennett call on Clara? Were they friends?”

“No. Never. Clara didn’t like her. Lark Bennett stole Ken Gattenger away from her once.”

I’d heard about Lady Bennett’s romance with Gattenger. But Sir Henry was right. Clara was unlikely to have gone calling with the woman who’d ended her engagement at one time. “They went out together in Lady Bennett’s carriage for an hour or two the day Clara died.”

He paused, his hand on the door handle. “You’re certain of this?”

“Yes.” What did he know?

“I saw Lady Bennett’s carriage at Lady Peters’s that day. I had thought to call on that lady, to ask for my letter back, but when I saw Lady Bennett’s carriage waiting, I decided not to go in.”

*   *   *

I FOUND EMMA in Phyllida’s room. “I need your help.”

She scowled and hurried over to me. “What’s happened?”

I gave her a brief explanation and then asked, “Do you know Lady Peters’s maid?”

“Minette? Yes.”

“Could you find her and keep her out of Lady Peters’s room for a little while?”

“Yes. Wait here while I check Lady Peters’s room. If she’s there, I’ll get her out and then you can go in.”

Emma left and a minute or two later, I heard her voice through the crack in the door. A woman’s voice with a French accent answered. I listened until their footsteps faded away, and then I slipped down the hall. No one was around, but I knocked on the door once before I entered the room.

Rosamond Peters’s room was a model of tidiness. I quickly glanced in the drawers and wardrobe. Everything was so neat I could search her things in an instant and not ruffle anything. My search of the bed was equally unsuccessful. Nothing was tucked into the few books she’d brought with her. I pulled up the corners of the rug. Nothing.

The only place left was the lady’s desk. There was a small stack of good notepaper, a pot of ink, and a couple of pens. The drawer was empty. Lacking any other spot, I looked in the notepaper. A few sheets down I found Sir Henry’s letter.

I skimmed the contents. Sir Henry was a fool to commit both subjects to writing in a single document. I folded the letter and slipped from the room into the empty hall.

I’d barely shut the door behind me when I heard Emma’s voice coming from somewhere nearby. Hearing the chatter she was infecting the air with, I was certain she was trying to warn me to get out. I crushed the letter into my palm and stopped to look around.

Emma and a dark-haired girl in a black dress came out from the servants’ stairs.

“Ah, there you are,” I said as if Emma had been playing truant. “Would you please tell the Duke of Blackford I’d like to see him right away? I’ll be in my room.”

“Yes, milady.” Emma glanced at Lady Peters’s maid and rolled her eyes. Then she headed downstairs and I went to my room, leaving Minette in the hall looking confused.

A few minutes later there was a tap on my door. Thinking it was Blackford or Emma, I stood by the window, soaking in the cool breeze, and said, “Come.”

Sir Henry strode in. “Where is it?”

I stared straight at him, trying not to give away by a glance that I’d hidden the letter in my pillowcase. “I couldn’t find it.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“It’s true. It’s not in her room. Do you have any other ideas where she could have hidden it?”

He grabbed my wrist. “No, but you’d better. I can’t get my hands on the blueprints, and if she ruins me, I won’t hesitate to let everyone in on your attempted thievery, your husband’s dishonesty, and your lack of funds.”

I tried to wiggle away but failed. His grip would leave a bruise as bad as the one he’d left on my shoulder. “Let go of me.”

“Not until you agree to do as I say.”

I struggled, not wanting to scream and have Sir Henry ruin my false identity before we recovered the blueprints. “I’m trying to.”

“Trying isn’t good enough. Get me that letter, or I swear I’ll destroy you.”

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

"YOU need to consider your words before you threaten this lady again,” came from behind Sir Henry as Blackford strode into the room.

Sir Henry dropped my arm.

“Your Grace,” I said, curtsying with relief that I was no longer alone with my blackmailer. “How much did you hear?”

“Enough to know this scoundrel needs to leave immediately if he values his life.”

“Stay out of this, Blackford. She’s not your sister,” Sir Henry said.

“She’s a woman I care about. Leave her alone.”

“Mrs. Monthalf isn’t under your protection or control. You don’t get to order her around like you did Lady Margaret.”

Blackford’s expression grew steely.

“He blocked practically all of Lady Margaret’s suitors as not being worthy of a duke’s sister. Now he’s trying to have the same control over your life. Beware, Mrs. Monthalf,” Sir Henry said, turning his back on Blackford.

“You’d better leave, Sir Henry.” I tried to put a note of regret in my voice, but I really couldn’t wait for him to go.

He gave me the stiffest of bows and stormed out of the room, shutting the door with more force than necessary.

“I have something for you.” I took the letter out of my pillowcase and handed it to Blackford.

He read it quickly, then looked it over again more slowly. “How did you get this?”

“Sir Henry wanted the letter back from Lady Peters, who obtained it from Lord Hastings. He says her price to return it is the stolen ship blueprints.”

“I don’t believe it.”

“Neither do I. Why would she want ship blueprints?”

The duke gave me a thunderous look. “Why were you searching her room for him?”

I gave him a smile, but his expression made the corners of my mouth droop. “You know why. Sir Henry has me doing his dirty work because he learned Georgina Monthalf is broke and he can ruin her.”

“I’ll take control of this,” he said, putting the letter in the pocket of his dark brown vest. “Play him along, but don’t get caught alone with him.”

“Gladly.”

“Now, Georgina, would you like to sit in the garden with me?”

I put on my straw boater before I gave him my arm. As we walked slowly downstairs, I couldn’t get over the change in his dress. He looked relaxed in his beige lounge suit, even though his collar was still stiff and of course he wore a necktie, which matched his vest. Perhaps it was like me being relaxed in my work clothes, although I still wore a corset.

I was beaming at our spending time together without searching anything or questioning anyone. I gave his arm a squeeze. He gave me a contented smile.

He put on a brimmed hat of soft felt as we stepped outside and then angled the hat to give him a rakish air.

I blinked at this change in the duke. “You look so different.”

“We’re in the country,” was his explanation. “There’s a bench over there in the shade. Can you walk that far on your ankle?”

“If I can’t, you can carry me.” I gave him a grin.

Wonder of wonders, he laughed. A deep, booming laugh.

We sat down on the dust-free bench. Apparently the staff cleaned the outdoor furniture daily. “We need to hold hands to keep up appearances,” Blackford said.

I gave him my hand. “Gladly.”

“You should wear that color more often. It makes your eyes a brilliant violet.” Reddening, he turned to face the immaculately trimmed garden. “It would be nice if all of life were like this, but then I guess we wouldn’t appreciate it.”

“Thank you for arranging this trip.”

“Finally forgiven me for taking you away from—” He stopped as we heard footsteps coming toward us.

Looking over our shoulders, we saw one of the footmen approaching. “Your Grace,” he said with a bow, “Lord Harwin would like a word with you.”

“Of course. If you’ll excuse me, Mrs. Monthalf?”

I nodded to him, and he was off. The sun went behind a cloud as he left.

The garden was lovely, but I didn’t see it as I sat enjoying the shade and wondering why Lady Peters wanted ship plans and why Lady Bennett took Clara to see her shortly before Clara’s death.

“May I join you?” a German-accented growl asked.

“Please, Baron von Steubfeld. Isn’t the garden lovely?”

“Yes, it is.”

He sat and we studied the garden in silence for a minute before the baron said, “Perhaps you and Lady Monthalf and the Duke of Blackford can visit my country this fall. I think you would find it most enjoyable.”

“I’m sure we would. I think Lady Monthalf and I could agree to travel then, but I can’t speak for the duke.”

“Can’t you?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.

“I’m sure I can’t.”

I could have sworn his mustache twitched before he said, “I’ve been watching you. Your friendship with the duke seems to be all business.”

I started to rise. “I beg your pardon.”

“No, no. I meant no disrespect to a lady,” he hurried to assure me. “Your friendship is like a partnership, all quick meetings before and after you question people. It doesn’t seem to allow much time for romance.”

The baron had apparently been watching me as I watched him, and his interest made me uneasy. “I’m not related to the peerage. While I would love a deeper friendship with Blackford, he has to marry someone more in line with his station.”

“Ah, the English. So concerned about their petty titles.”

“And the Germans aren’t?”

“We admire and reward—what is the word I want?—spunk. That’s it. Spunk. And you are a young lady of spunk. If the duke were German, I’m sure he would marry you.”

“But he’s not.”

“No. But you must think of your future. Come to Germany and see if anything or anyone there attracts you. Or if you, as a widow, can find ways to strengthen your bank account for the years ahead.”

“Even if something appealed to me, I’m English, not German.”

“These are labels only. Think about it. Travel can open your mind to all sorts of possibilities.” He rose. “If you’ll excuse me, I have to make sure the embassy has not fallen apart in my absence.”

We nodded to each other, and as he walked off, I was left wondering if he’d invited me as a diplomat to travel in his country or begun to recruit me as a spy. Or, good heavens, did he proposition me?

The air was so pleasant, smelling of flowers and fresh breezes, that I lingered on the bench. I was shocked to see the figure of the man I’d known as Sir Jonah Denby quickly coming around a tree, heading in my direction. “How does the investigation go?” he asked.

“Who are you?”

“Sir Jonah Denby, at your service,” he replied with a bow. “Surely you remember me.”

“I do indeed, but I’ve learned you’re not Denby. Who are you, and why do you care about stolen blueprints?”

He stared at me for a moment, and then the bluster in his tone evaporated. “May I please sit?”

I nodded and he dropped onto the bench. Sweat trickled down his weathered cheeks.

“I’m Lord Porthollow, one of the three bidders to build Gattenger’s ship. Sir Henry seems to be in a state over the theft, and I wanted to find out why.”

I saw his motive in a heartbeat. “You’re hoping he stole the design and will be caught and eliminated as competition in the bidding.”

He nodded. “I’m sure my bid can beat old Fogburn, but Sir Henry is sneaky. I wanted to keep an eye on him, find out what he’s up to, and who better to do that than you.”

I couldn’t risk him giving away my true identity. “First off, you need to know I’m not here as myself.”

“Ho, ho. So I’m not the only one with a nom de guerre.” He tapped his cane twice on the ground.

“I’m Mrs. Monthalf for this investigation. Don’t mess it up for me. Or are you the one who sent me threatening letters?”

“Why would I do that? I need to find out what you’ve learned. Did Sir Henry steal the blueprints?”

“We don’t know. Personally, I favor someone else as the brains behind this.”

“Is it a dastardly plan?”

I thought about what I’d learned. “Yes.”

“That’s Sir Henry all over. Tricked me out of deals a time or two.”

I shook my head. “You seem able to hold your own against Sir Henry. You fooled me. How did you find out I was involved?”

“Inspector Grantham. When he came to see me, he let slip about the Archivist Society involvement. I asked around until I found someone who’d met you on a previous investigation.”

We were hired by word of mouth. It would make sense that we’d be discovered that way. “Thank you for your honesty, Lord Porthollow.”

He rose from the bench. “Thank you, Mrs. Monthalf. I’ll see you at the ball tonight.”

“Where are you staying?”

“At the Teweses’. Attended Oxford with him. This visit would be a pleasure without one of his guests. Name’s Lady Ormond. What a tartar. Avoid her.”

He strolled away, presumably back to the nearby estate, while I was once again amazed at how aristocrats all knew each other.

*   *   *

LATER THAT AFTERNOON, I still hadn’t seen Blackford again. I was resting my foot while reading in Lord Harwin’s library and enjoying a cup of tea. At the sound of voices, I went out to greet Phyllida and the group who’d gone to see the local sights.

They all exclaimed over my recovery and then headed in different directions. I followed Lady Bennett down a hall and saw her enter a doorway. Moving quickly without jarring my foot, I opened the door to find myself in the blue parlor. The dark blue draperies were pulled to block out the sunlight, leaving the blue-patterned rug, blue-upholstered furniture, and light-blue-papered walls in shadow.

If she hadn’t moved, I never would have seen Lady Bennett, since, dressed in a blue gown and hat, she faded into the corner. “What do you want?” she snapped.

I approached until I was within a foot of her. Her eyes were red rimmed. I tried a caring approach. “I saw you were upset. What’s wrong?”

“As if you didn’t know.”

Her snooty tone wiped away any compassion I might have had for her. “Does it have anything to do with Clara Gattenger’s death?”

“Her again? Why should I care about her?”

“You came to her house, spirited her away, and brought her home again only a few hours before she was murdered. When she returned, she demanded a fire in her study on the hottest day of a very hot summer. The only reason would have been to burn something.”

“So?” She yanked off her gloves, one finger at a time.

“Whatever she burned, she received from you. What was it, Lady Bennett? Or should I call you Lark?”

“I hate that name.”

“What did she burn, Lark?”