by Kate Parker
“Did you want him to?”
“No.” He lowered his voice. “As soon as he told me why he was there, we both ran back to his post, but it was already too late. The theft occurred in those few minutes.”
“Did the constable get a name or a description?”
“No name. Just a description of a man in evening dress with dark hair, my height, average weight, age between thirty-five and fifty.”
“Oh, dear. That could describe half the men there.” I decided to share my piece of news. “The man with Lady Ravenbrook when we first found her in the supper room was Lord Armstrong, according to Lady Kaldaire. He made a comment to me about trying out the punch while leering down my bodice, as if he knew what was in the punchbowl.”
“Oh, good. That means I need to question Lord Armstrong. Who is married to a minor royal. He’ll be complaining to the palace, while the duke, whom I just flubbed an assignment for, is a good friend of everyone in the government. My career is headed toward the sewers.”
Not if I could help it. Anyone who said I was beautiful deserved my assistance. “Tomorrow, Lady Kaldaire and I will be questioning the women who were good friends of Lady Theodore. Of Roxanne. I suspect we’ll talk to the duchess again. I’ll see what we can do.” I gave his hand a squeeze.
He pulled his hand away. “I don’t want you to ask the Duchess of Blackford for help in saving my position at Scotland Yard when it was her jewelry I failed to protect.”
We were still at an impasse when the cab stopped in front of my shop. “If I’m going to be dragged all over Mayfair tomorrow in Lady Kaldaire’s hunt for a murderer, I’m going to put in a good word for you,” I said as James handed me down to the street and I unlocked the door.
“Don’t bother. What can the duchess do? It’ll be the duke’s opinion that counts,” James said as he swung back into the cab and knocked on the roof for the cabbie to drive on.
James Russell had a lot to learn about women. And men. And marriage. And I was willing to teach him.
Already I was looking forward to the next afternoon, and no one better dare get in my way.
Chapter Fifteen
The next morning when Jane came in, she immediately asked about the ball. She’d seen my gown when it was nearly finished and had proclaimed it “gorgeous.”
I gave her a brief rundown of all that occurred, ending with “So I need to go out this afternoon to meet with the women I didn’t get to talk to last night.”
“And save Inspector Russell’s standing at the Yard.”
“I don’t think it’s as dire as that, but I certainly will try to help him out. He’s a very good detective.” I said it with a calm demeanor, even as I remembered him calling me beautiful. The heat on my cheeks told me I was giving away my thoughts.
“I’m sure he is,” Jane said before walking off, trying without success to hide her smile.
When I told Noah over lunch in our flat that I’d be absent most of the afternoon, he was not amused. “We need you here, Emily. This millinery doesn’t run itself. Your wealthy clientele expects to see you when they come in for a new hat. And with springtime, and the London season, they all want new hats.”
“I’ll only be gone for a couple of hours—”
“That’s what you always say when you’re off with her ladyship.”
“And it really is important.”
Noah glared at me. “To her ladyship. Not to your customers. Not to you or me.”
“It is to me. I’m hoping to learn something that will help James Russell. After the ball last night, he’s in trouble with his superiors.” I told him the basic facts about the theft at the ball.
Shaking his head, Noah asked, “How is having the shop fail going to help James?”
“It won’t fail. I’ll work nights to make up the time on the designs.”
“And what makes you think Inspector Russell can’t solve his own problems?”
I knew he could, but I wanted to help. “I can go about learning things in a way he can’t.”
Noah walked away from me to find something in the kitchen to eat. “Do what you like,” he said over his shoulder. “You will anyway.”
I ate an apple and then went downstairs to the shop. We stayed busy and it was after two before I could leave for Lady Kaldaire’s.
“I was about to give up on you,” Lady Kaldaire said when I reached her house.
“I don’t have much time. We’re rushed off our feet in the shop today.” When she still didn’t move, I said, “Let’s go.”
Lady Kaldaire put another pin in her hat and said, “What are you waiting for?” as she sailed out the front door ahead of me.
Ravenbrook House was only a two-minute walk away, but when we rang the bell, the butler was less than welcoming. “Her ladyship is not at home,” he said and started to close the door.
I hadn’t left my shop to be told no.
Annoyed, frustrated, and downright angry, I shoved the door into the man and found myself in the front hall. “Lady Kaldaire and I were the ones to rescue Lady Ravenbrook last night when she was taken ill. Or poisoned.”
“Poisoned?” The butler was surprised enough that Lady Kaldaire was able to gain entrance to the house without having to resort to pushing.
“Yes. Take us to her, please,” Lady Kaldaire said in aristocratic tones.
The butler called a maid, who led us upstairs. When she knocked tentatively on a door, a woman’s voice called out, “Go away.”
No words could send Lady Kaldaire through a closed door as fast as those. She opened the door and strode in. “Lady Ravenbrook, you may have been poisoned.”
The lady was stretched out on a couch, her dark hair brushed and braided into a neat plait down her back. She wore a loose pink robe and her feet were bare. Her face was devoid of color and one arm was thrown over her forehead. “Am I going to live?” she asked.
“Yes.”
“Then you may leave while I recover.”
Lady Kaldaire would not be put off. “Who killed Lady Theodore?”
The lady turned to look at us through big, dark eyes. “Am I a target of her killer?”
“It’s possible. Tell us what you know of Lady Theodore’s life before her murder,” I said.
Her voice sounded stronger as she lowered her arm and stared at me. “What do you want to know?”
“Did she owe anyone money? Had she quarreled with anyone? Had she been bragging about anything?”
“Roxanne was always boasting. She’d found a way to get in and out of the duke’s house through the back garden and she thought it was a lark to leave and return, especially at night, without anyone knowing.”
“How did she do that?” And had she told anyone her secret route? A route that didn’t depend on Lord Theo’s possibly missing key.
“How would I know? She didn’t tell me.”
“How long had she known about it? And how often did she use it?”
Lady Kaldaire looked at me with admiration.
“She found it a few months ago, and no, she didn’t use it often. It’s damp. She was always afraid she’d ruin her gown.”
“And that’s all you know about it?”
“Yes. She said even their very loyal butler didn’t know about the escape route.”
“Did her husband know about it?” This route raised more questions in my mind. Damp. A tunnel, perhaps?
“Possibly. I don’t think so. He wouldn’t have needed it, as assured of himself as he was.”
“How did she find it?” I couldn’t picture the notorious Lady Roxanne with her perfect uncalloused hands searching for a way out.
“One of the maids told her. Once Roxanne used it, the maid started blackmailing her. Called it a usage fee.” Lady Ravenbrook smiled at her own words.
“Was there a reason she had to sneak out without the family or staff knowing?”
“Not really. She wasn’t a prisoner.”
“Did she owe someone something she couldn’t pay back?”
“No.” She turned away from us. “That’s all I know. Leave me alone.”
“Who poisoned the punch, my lady?”
She looked at me, her eyes wide with feigned innocence.
“Someone wants you dead. Or perhaps they don’t care who they kill and you were in their way.” A frightening thought I didn’t want to follow.
“The punch.” She fell silent for a minute. “I don’t know anything. Go away.”
When it became obvious we’d get nothing else, we left. Once outside, I said, “She’s lying. She knows who poisoned the punch, and I think she may know a debt Lady Theodore couldn’t repay.” My mind grabbed on to a second thought. “Or a debt Lord Theo owed when he died that someone wanted his wife to pay.”
“What do we do now?” Lady Kaldaire said. She sounded entranced by our newest discoveries.
“We’ll visit Lady Westkirk, and then you are going to tell your friend the Duchess of Wallingford about the escape route while I go back to work.”
Amazingly, she didn’t argue.
We arrived at Westkirk House a quarter of an hour earlier than the three o’clock Lady Westkirk had commanded. When we rang the bell, the butler informed us we would have to wait for a short time and put us in the gloomiest of old-fashioned drawing rooms. It hadn’t been redecorated since the old queen became a widow.
The wallpaper was a smoke-stained yellow now faded to muddy beige. Upholstery was stained with wine and fire soot. A vase had been inexpertly mended and displayed a spiderweb of cracks.
Lady Kaldaire and I looked at each other and sat. We’d only been there a few minutes when the door opened. An elderly man wearing a single-breasted morning coat and straight-cut waistcoat, both so out of date only my grandfather could appreciate them, peeked around the door and then came in. “Bianca should be back soon. It’s nice to have her friends visit, especially the pretty young ones,” he said, looking me over. “I’m the sixth Lord Westkirk.”
We both rose and curtsied. “How do you do. I’m Lady Kaldaire, and this is Miss Gates. I thought Lady Westkirk said last night that she’d be here now.” Lady Kaldaire gave him a beatific smile.
“You were at the Blackford ball, were you? Beastly things, balls. You’re expected to dance, you know.”
I was startled by his words, not seeing any reason to attend but to dance. However, Lady Kaldaire was ready for his pronouncement. “No one dare expect me to dance.”
The ancient man came over and took Lady Kaldaire’s hand, leading her to a sofa. “A woman who knows her own mind. Good for you.”
“Did Lady Westkirk go for a ride?” I asked, not wanting to waste time. “It’s such a lovely day out.”
“No, she had business to take care of. Always taking care of business, my Bianca.”
“Surely, you have a man of affairs to handle that,” Lady Kaldaire said.
“I do, but Bianca doesn’t trust him. Says being the fourth wife of an old man means she has to watch out for herself. She and Willard don’t see eye to eye.”
“Who’s Willard?” I asked. I couldn’t believe this elderly aristocrat was telling complete strangers all this. He must be in his dotage.
“My heir. Son from my first wife. I have three children. Two from my first wife and one from my second. There would have been more, but she died in childbirth. These last two women have been disappointments. Good to see a woman become a mother.”
I wondered if his last two wives would have agreed. Then I looked at the shaky, wrinkled old man, considered the marriage bed, and shuddered.
Fortunately, his attention was back on Lady Kaldaire. “I’m sure Lady Westkirk and your son have much in common,” she said.
“Oh, no. He calls her a money-grubbing adulteress. I’ll have to leave her something in my will, because Willard will chuck her out into the street before I’m in the ground.” He cackled, and the sound made me shudder.
“Surely you’ve made provision for her already,” I said.
“Oh, no. Plenty of time. That way she won’t poison me. I understand if she stabbed me, it would leave a mark. That’s why poison is a woman’s weapon. All clean and neat and tidy.”
“It has that going for it,” Lady Kaldaire agreed.
At this point, I wondered about the sanity of both of these older aristocrats.
On the other hand, could Lady Ravenbrook have poisoned the punchbowl at the ball? And then fallen victim to it herself? She could have made certain to only imbibe enough to make herself sick, while others might have died. But why would she plan to kill random people at a ball in honor of her sister? That didn’t seem to be at all sane, although it might be an efficient plan to a crazed mind.
The old man continued without prodding. “Willard’s daughter is older than my wife. She didn’t—”
“My goodness, Hamish, what are you telling our guests? Good afternoon, Lady Kaldaire.” Lady Westkirk breezed into the room, pulled the bell rope, and sat across from her husband and Lady Kaldaire. I sat at an angle to all three, so I saw the look of loathing Lady Westkirk gave her husband while he looked at Lady Kaldaire.
“I’m afraid we arrived early, so your husband has kindly entertained us until you returned.” Lady Kaldaire glanced at her hostess with her eyebrows raised.
“Thank you, Hamish, but this will all be women’s talk. I’ll have tea taken to your study.”
“With those little cakes I love?” he asked his wife, his voice as eager as a little boy’s.
“Of course.”
A maid answered the bell. Lady Westkirk gave the orders for tea and had the maid help Lord Westkirk out of the room.
Once they were gone and the door shut, Lady Westkirk said, “I’m afraid he’s totally confused, but he’s harmless. Now, what is so important, Lady Kaldaire and friend?”
I gave her a frozen smile while Lady Kaldaire introduced us. Then she added, “We need to know what you know about Lady Theodore’s murder.”
She gave us both a steely look. “Nothing.”
“You were a good friend of hers. You spent time in the Marlowe Club with her. Surely, you know who she’d quarreled with. Who she owed money to,” Lady Kaldaire insisted.
Lady Westkirk rose. “You misjudge our acquaintance and my tolerance for gossip. I think you should go.”
“Then I shall have to tell the police what I know,” I blurted out.
The young lady gracefully sank into her chair, her black hair a lovely contrast to her pink and white afternoon gown. Her dark gray eyes narrowed as she said, “And what is it exactly that you think you know?”
“We know what’s been going on at the Marlowe Club and at the balls. I think you should tell us everything,” I told her. As a bluff, I thought it was quite good. I had no idea who had poisoned the punch and I’d been told I was much too innocent to understand what happened at the Marlowe Club.
“Fine. Wait until the tea arrives and then I’ll share all the gossip that I’ve heard,” Lady Westkirk said.
Chapter Sixteen
We sat in silence, punctuated by the ticking of the clock and Lady Kaldaire tapping one shoe while we waited for the tea to arrive. Every time Lady Kaldaire began to speak, Lady Westkirk silenced her with a look. All I could think of was the amount of work awaiting me at the shop.
Finally, the tea service was brought in by a maid, and Lady Westkirk began the laborious task of pouring and adding bits of sugar and splashes of milk. She took her time about it, making me think she was waiting for someone or something to save her from answering.
Once that was finished, I said, “Now, my lady. You have something to tell us.”
“Have you heard the name Victoria, Lady Abbott?”
“She was the youngest child of the Earl of Winterset. She died almost two months ago. In a late-night carriage accident, I believe,” Lady Kaldaire said.
“Don’t believe everything you hear. She married Lord Abbott last autumn after a single season, and before that, she had spent all her time in the country.
She was an innocent suddenly set free on all the sport London provides.”
Lady Westkirk took a sip of her tea while I said, “How did Lord Abbott take to his wife’s taste of freedom?”
“He’d recently resigned his commission when he inherited the peerage so he was new to London, too. They went to the Marlowe Club and were quickly seduced by the gaming and the drugs. Some people don’t know when enough is enough.”
She shook her head and continued. “Within a month, they had become good friends with Theo and Roxanne. Then one night, Roxanne gave Victoria a mixture of brandy and laudanum and, when she could barely stand, took her to one of the rooms on the second floor where Theo was waiting.”
“Oh, dear,” Lady Kaldaire whispered.
“Somehow, Lord Abbott found them and beat Victoria to death and injured Theo and two of Lucky Marlowe’s stronger manservants.”
“Then why does Lady Kaldaire think Lady Abbott was killed in a carriage accident?” I asked.
“Victoria’s body was found in an overturned carriage early the next morning, which explained her injuries and removed any need for Scotland Yard to investigate her death or the Marlowe Club.” She gave me a satisfied smile.
“Did Lord Abbott then enter Wallingford House and finish Theo off?” I asked.
“Doubtful,” she said in a dry tone. “He shot himself before Theo died.”
“Other than revealing how repulsive Lord and Lady Theo could be, why are you telling us this?” This painful story didn’t seem to move us toward the name of the murderer.
“At Blackfords’s last night, I thought I saw Hugo Watson, one of Victoria’s brothers. He has sworn to get to the bottom of what happened to his beloved little sister and to make people pay.”
I could understand the desire to see justice done. I hoped he hadn’t obtained justice on his own. “Are you sure it was him?”
“No. I only caught a glimpse of him. I’m not even sure he’s in London. He wasn’t when his sister died and only returned the day of the funeral.”
“Were you a good friend of Lady Abbott?” Lady Kaldaire asked.
