The Body in the Garden

by Katharine Schellman

  Margaret gasped with pleasurable shock at her friend’s language. “Really, Serena!”

  “Well, if it is true, her uncle will no doubt be pleased.” Mr. Harlowe leaned forward. “Even his bottomless funds cannot find it easy to support two dependents.”

  “Especially when one of them needs so much supporting,” Lord Walter said. “His whelp of a nephew is in the betting books at White’s every other week, and he lost a small fortune at Newmarket.”

  “How do you know that?” Margaret asked.

  “My cousin Bernard,” Lord Walter sighed. “His taste in friends is almost as dreadful as his taste in cravats. He joined Mr. Harper’s crowd of dandies at the Spring Meeting this year. Where, according to Bernard, Mr. Harper managed to pick the losing horse in every race.”

  “No wonder that boy chases every heiress in town,” Serena laughed. “He cannot like constantly asking his uncle for money.”

  “And his uncle cannot like giving it to him, as he is quite the gambler himself,” Mr. Harlowe put in, lowering his voice. “The man has a reputation for playing deep, and it seems his skill on the battlefield does not translate to the card table.”

  “Really?” Serena looked fascinated. “You know, I am not surprised to hear it. In fact, just last week …” She lowered her voice conspiratorially. Lily tried to concentrate on Serena’s story, but something tickled at the back of her mind. It took her several minutes to figure out what it was: General Harper had been a younger son. And younger sons, traditionally, were not left with much in the way of income.

  The elder Harper son, she knew, had not had a large fortune; that was why so little had been left to his children, why Reggie Harper wanted a rich wife, why Isobel Harper had been jilted by her betrothed. The general would have inherited even less, and though his military service would provide an income, it would hardly be unlimited, no matter how well invested. It was possible that, like many members of London’s upper class, the general simply ran up debts he never intended to pay. But if that was not the case, it raised a very pertinent question: where did his money come from?

  And had he turned to treason and war profiteering in order to replenish his accounts?

  “Do you remember, Lily?” Serena’s question called her back to the conversation.

  “How could I forget?” she responded glibly, trying to rejoin the thread of conversation once more. But her thoughts kept returning to her suspicions, and to the shadowy figure that had been following her. Both her suspects were in attendance that night. Either of them could have followed her when she went to the retiring room. Either of them could still be her murderer.

  The others were standing, she realized suddenly, preparing to leave the dining room, and she hurried to join them. As she did so, she caught sight of the last person she wanted to see. Reggie Harper had joined his uncle and sister, and he slouched at their table with fashionable boredom. But his eyes were on her, and as he saw her notice him, he smiled slowly.

  Lily felt her face grow hot with anger. How dared he continue to force himself on her notice. “Bastard.”

  She did not realize she had spoken out loud until her companions fell silent. “I beg your pardon?” Mr. Harlowe asked, one arm half raised to offer it to her.

  Lily felt her face grow hot. “Not you. I beg your—” Mr. Harper was still watching her. Being around her friends as they happily shared kissed fingers and warm laughs with their husbands was suddenly too much to bear. “Excuse me, please.” Not bothering to explain, Lily left abruptly, heading toward the ballroom. She would apologize later. Right now, she needed to get away.

  * * *

  When she saw Jack just making his way off the dance floor, she nearly sighed with relief as she caught his eye. Jack grinned, leaving his dance partner with her chaperone and making his way to Lily’s side. When he drew close, however, his expression sobered. “You look distressed.”

  “Only annoyed with myself. I sometimes think I am no longer fit for polite society—or at least for making conversation without acting like a fool.”

  “You do well enough talking to me,” Jack said, smiling again. “Or is that because Freddy told you all my unmanly childhood secrets?”

  His teasing put her at ease in a way sympathy never could. “Oh, you are not polite society, Captain. I have it on excellent authority that you are a rogue.”

  “But a charming one, I hope?”

  “Yes,” Lily agreed with dry sarcasm. “It is a wonder the ladies did not swoon at your feet on the dance floor. In fact …” She narrowed her eyes. “You are dancing a great deal tonight. Are you courting, Captain?”

  “Gad, no.”

  “Yet you do not meet my eyes when you say so. Why is that, I wonder?”

  “Because …” Jack sighed. “If you must know, Mrs. Adler, I am watching your friend.”

  Judging by his shifty look, he could mean only one person. “Miss Oswald?”

  “Yes.” Jack glanced around. “She’s keeping secrets from you.”

  Lily didn’t argue with him, but simply said, “She is nineteen, Captain. Most nineteen-year-old girls keep secrets.”

  “Do most of them also sneak around, lie about where they are, and meet with strange gentlemen to discuss their friends’ affairs?”

  Lily was watching Miss Oswald weave very prettily through the figures of a country dance, but at Jack’s words she turned abruptly to face him. “What do you mean?”

  “The other day, when I escorted her home”—Jack lowered his voice—“I left her at the door, but she did not go inside, so I waited a few blocks away and watched her. She sneaked around the corner and out of sight of her aunt’s house before hailing a chair.”

  Lily returned to her study of the dancers. “Did you see where she went?”

  “Hyde Park.”

  “Walking in a park is hardly grounds for suspicion, especially with as pleasant weather as we have been having,” Lily pointed out, but her voice was thoughtful rather than dismissive. “Her sneaking away from her aunt’s house is odd, I grant you, but there could be a reason.”

  “Both she and the man she met hid their faces from view. I could not see who he was, and they were both so dashed twitchy that I feared they would recognize me if I ventured too close. But I did overhear her telling him something of the …” He cleared his throat. “The business you are about.”

  Lily’s frown deepened. “That is peculiar,” she said slowly.

  “I know you’ve grown fond of her, but …” Jack looked uncomfortable. “You don’t really know her. And if you intend to keep pursuing this business—”

  “I do.”

  “Then you need to be careful.”

  Lily sighed. She had her own suspicions about what Miss Oswald was hiding, but she couldn’t deny that what Jack had observed was odd. “I’ll not be able to dissuade you from watching her, will I?”

  “No.” The reply was firm.

  “Then you will do as you feel necessary, but I hope you’ll not jump to any conclusions. Remember …” Lily hesitated, not wanting to put ideas in his head. “Remember, she has more at stake in this matter than either of us.”

  “So she says.”

  “Yes,” Lily said, her eyes narrowing in consideration. “So she says.”

  She could feel Jack watching her. “You know something,” he said. It was not a question.

  “I think that she has not been entirely forthcoming with us,” Lily admitted. “But what I suspect she is hiding is something which makes me trust her.”

  “Will you tell me what it is?”

  “Not yet.” Lily hesitated, then added, “I need you to trust me, just as I trust you to continue watching her without doing anything drastic.”

  She thought Jack might press the subject, but to her relief he let it drop, saying after a pause, “I saw you with Lord Walter earlier.”

  “Yes.” Lily thought back through the supper conversation. “How much money should a general have when he leaves the army, assuming no
family funds?”

  Jack shrugged. “A good bit. Not unlimited funds, of course, but a decent amount. Why?”

  Lily smiled grimly. “There is the critical word. Unlimited. What I have learned tonight is that General Harper is a very good suspect indeed.”

  “Then we are getting closer?”

  “Bit by bit, Captain. And I shan’t give up until I solve it.”

  “I know,” he said, the confidence in his voice finally making her feel at ease again.

  For several minutes they were silent, watching the dancers. Lily didn’t realize how wistfully she was staring until Jack touched her arm. “What is it, Mrs. Adler?”

  She looked away, embarrassed. “I miss dancing, I suppose. Freddy was hopeless at a country dance. He would get so distracted speaking with his partner that he lost track of the set.” She sighed. “We had such fun waltzing, though. Not that we had many opportunities, but …” A small, sad smile briefly crossed her face. “We waltzed in London.”

  She could feel Jack’s eyes on her, but she looked resolutely away until he surprised her by taking her arm and drawing her away from the dance floor. When she glanced up, he was smiling. “Come with me.”

  “Captain Hartley, it is hardly proper for me to leave the ballroom with you.” Lily frowned and kept her voice low but didn’t resist as he led her toward the hall.

  “It’s only improper if we make a fuss about it,” he pointed out. “The rules have changed for you, so why not take advantage of that?”

  “Take advantage how?” They were out of eyesight of the ballroom now, and Jack was opening doors a few inches at a time, listening at each one, and then moving on.

  “You will see … Ah, here we are!”

  The room he drew her into was a small library. Its tall windows were ajar, letting in a spill of light and faint strains of the music. The musicians were just striking up a waltz. Lily turned to Jack, unsure what he intended. He grinned at her and bowed. “Would you honor me with a dance, Mrs. Adler?” He offered his hand.

  It was a sweet gesture. Even if it felt highly improper to sneak away from the ballroom, he was right—no one would raise a fuss. But still she hesitated. “You know very well that I’m still in black gloves, Captain. I cannot dance.”

  “You cannot let anyone see you dance. Surely you don’t mean that I am just anyone?” His expression became more serious, and he took her hand but made no other move. “Dance if you want, Lily. Freddy would not like to see you so sad.”

  At last Lily nodded and let him draw her into a sweet, slow waltz. There wasn’t much space to move, but they turned carefully around the room, neither one speaking, the sound of the music rising and falling with the breeze that blew through the window. Lily closed her eyes. Nothing else mattered in that moment but the notes of the waltz and the feel of someone’s arms around her. It wasn’t her husband, and she didn’t try to imagine that it was, but Jack was right: Freddy had never liked to see her sad.

  They spun to a gentle stop as the music ended, but he didn’t drop his arms, and she didn’t step away. They stood still for several moments, each thinking of the same person. Lily kept her eyes closed, but a few tears slid down her cheeks anyway. “Thank you, Jack,” she whispered.

  He was silent for a moment, then: “I miss him too,” he whispered back. She felt his lips brush her forehead before he stepped away.

  Lily heard the door close softly behind him. She didn’t move, didn’t open her eyes as, one more time, she let herself cry for her husband.

  * * *

  When she finally emerged into the hallway, Jack was watching the door with poorly hidden anxiety. “Are you all right?”

  “I am.” There was a lightness in her chest that Lily had not felt in the three very long years since Freddy had first fallen ill. “Thank you.”

  He surprised her by taking her hand and kissing her knuckles. “I am at your service, Mrs. Adler, and always shall be.” A bit of his customary levity returned to his expression. “Though perhaps not to escort you back to the ballroom. Might not look quite the thing.”

  Lily’s eyes crinkled up at the corners. “Who knows what dreadful gossip saw us leave together, after all,” she agreed. She had to rise onto her toes just a little to kiss his cheek. “I am very glad to call you my friend, Jack.”

  His smile widened into a grin. “So am I, Lily. So am I.”

  CHAPTER 16

  “Goodness, Serena, did you really need three new pairs of gloves?” Lily asked, fanning herself as she scanned the crowd that thronged the shopping thoroughfare of Bond Street.

  “Oh, you needn’t worry, Lily, they simply put it on account.”

  “You realize that means your husband must still pay for it later, do you not?”

  “Which he is always happy to do, as you well know.” Serena huffed in annoyance, resettling her packages. “In any case, Miss Oswald bought five pairs, and I’ve not heard you lecturing her.”

  Miss Oswald smiled pertly. She had indeed bought five pairs of gloves on their shopping trip, as well as ordering new lavender kid boots and a parasol. “Papa expects me to be well turned out.”

  “And it shan’t hurt for the young men of London—and their mothers—to see you looking the part of an heiress.” There was a glint in Serena’s eye as she spoke. As she had been thrown into Miss Oswald’s company more, she had revised her original opinion of the girl and declared her “the most charming creature I have ever met.” Lily strongly suspected that was because Miss Oswald’s love of shopping rivaled Lady Walter’s own.

  The three of them were spending the afternoon browsing the shops on Bond Street, though Lily was the only one who had not yet bought anything. Economy was one of the few valuable lessons her father had taught her, and after spending so much money to establish her household in London, she didn’t want to make many new purchases. Instead, she tried to focus on Serena’s cheerful gossip, but her mind turned again and again to the facts of the case. The outing with Serena was a good opportunity to seek out more information about her husband, and though Lily felt guilty, she was not dissuaded from pressing forward. She needed to solve the blasted thing, soon, before the trail got too cold, and a chance remark of Serena’s might be the key. From time to time Miss Oswald caught her eye, and Lily knew the younger woman was thinking the same thing.

  “Whyever did you purchase such an ugly bonnet, Serena?” Lily continued as they strolled in the direction of Gunter’s Tea Shop for ices.

  “Lily, do not be so unfashionable!” Lady Walter eyed the parcels her footman carried with proprietary pride. Jeremy, half hidden behind the stack of purchases, trailed behind the three women. “That leghorn style is all the crack this spring.”

  “It is the trimming I object to, not the style. That check ribbon is dreadful. Does Lord Walter ever complain about how expensive you are?”

  “Oh, frequently,” Serena said with a laugh. “But I always remind him that a mistress would be far more expensive, and she would not manage his calendar nearly so well.” That prompted a giggle from Miss Oswald. “Oh, did I tell you?” Serena continued. “I discovered why Bernard was sent back to his father’s house so abruptly. You remember that he went to the Spring Meeting at Newmarket?”

  “Let me guess,” Lily said dryly. “Cousin Bernard is a terrible judge of horseflesh.”

  Serena laughed. “He bet on every horse that Mr. Harper did, and every one of them lost! He went through his allowance and more, and the stupid boy decided to visit a moneylender to pay off the difference. Which of course meant he was still in debt, just to someone else. And then one of Mr. King’s ruffians showed up at our door looking to collect on the debt!”

  If Lily had been a fraction more clumsy, she would have tripped over her own feet in shock. “Mr. King?”

  “The moneylender,” Serena said, not noticing her friend’s odd tone. “I had no idea at the time, of course, for Lord Walter didn’t wish me to be upset by something like that. He paid off the debt himself, and the
n dragged Bernard home practically by the scruff of his neck!”

  “Well, then as long as you stay away from moneylenders, I imagine you will be safe from his lordship complaining about your expenses,” Miss Oswald said slyly, and the two women went into peals of laughter.

  Lily smiled along with them, but her mind was racing. If the promissory note she had found in Lord Walter’s study was Bernard’s debt from the Spring Meeting, then she had no reason to think the Walters’ finances were in trouble. And if that was the case, Lord Walter would not need to turn to turn to illegal activity to supplement his income.

  But the general, as she had learned the night before, had two dependents, one of whom was very expensive indeed, and his own apparently extravagant gambling habit to support. He would need all the money he could get his hands on—and he had every connection necessary to engage in war profiteering, if he were unscrupulous enough to use them.

  Her thoughts were interrupted as Serena caught sight of a familiar face. “Isobel! My dear Miss Harper, what a pleasure to see you.”

  “Lady Walter.” Isobel Harper gestured for her maid to stop so she could greet the three women. “Mrs. Adler.” She looked politely at Miss Oswald, and Lily hastened to make the introduction.

  Miss Oswald, after murmuring a polite greeting, exchanged a speaking glance with Lily, while Serena launched immediately into talk of shopping.

  “And is that a bit of blue silk I see peeping out of your parcel?” she asked, having finished showing off her own new bonnet and receiving the expected praise. “I have heard that blue is Mr. Christopher Kettering’s favorite color.”

  “I believe it is the favorite color of many gentlemen,” Miss Harper replied. She spoke calmly enough, but her cheeks flushed.

  Serena’s eyes gleamed, and she would have continued fishing for gossip had Miss Oswald not chimed in. “Only too true. When a woman says a color is her favorite, depend upon it, she has some reason for the preference. But when a man is asked his favorite color, he invariably says blue because he has never considered the subject at all.”