A Duke Like No Other

by Valerie Bowman

  The group nodded and murmured their agreement.

  The duke continued, waving his arm toward Mark and Daffin. “These fine gentlemen are investigators. I’m told it’s standard when a member of the aristocracy dies for an investigation to take place.”

  Another murmur ran through the room, this one carrying a surprised tone.

  “General Grimaldi and Mr. Oakleaf will be asking each of you some questions about the night John died,” the duke said. “I request that you share any details you have with them, for my sake.”

  A general nod and murmur of approval went through the group again. Mark, one elbow braced on the mantel, watched their faces. No one seemed particularly alarmed or uncomfortable. They’d planned this little announcement with everyone present so he and Oakleaf could see if any of them appeared anxious when they realized an investigation was taking place.

  “We’re happy to help,” Lord Anthony said from the corner, his jaw clenched. “Ask me anything.”

  “Yes, yes,” Lord Hillenbrand added, pushing a shoe along the edge of the fine rug. “Quite.”

  The others murmured in agreement.

  Mark stepped forward and crossed his arms over his chest. “I’d like to begin by speaking with Lady Arabelle, if that’s all right with you, my lady.” He smiled patiently down at Lady Arabelle.

  Arabelle nodded and dabbed at her eyes again. Her mother made to stand and come with her but Mark said, “Alone, if you don’t mind. I assure you, I will be nothing but kind to her.”

  “That’s hardly proper,” Lady Arabelle’s mother said, her mouth turned down in a frown.

  “I will accompany them.” Lady Harriet shot to her feet with alarming speed for someone of her age, her turban tilting haphazardly.

  While Lady Harriet righted her headpiece, Lady Arabelle’s mother looked as if she might continue to argue the point, but Arabelle patted her mother’s arm and said, “It’s all right, Mama. I’m certain I won’t be long.”

  “Not at all,” Mark replied, bowing to both ladies.

  He escorted the lovely blonde out of the room and down the corridor to the next room over, a smaller drawing room decorated in hues of green. Lady Harriet, looking like the cat who swallowed the cream, trailed behind them.

  “Can I get you anything?” Mark asked as they entered the room.

  “No, thank you.” Lady Arabelle shook her head and held the handkerchief to the tip of her nose. Although she was serene and composed, the black she wore made her pale features even paler. Dark circles ringed her eyes as if she hadn’t slept much of late.

  “I’m sorry for your loss,” Mark said, gesturing to her to take a seat.

  Lady Harriet hurried to grasp the young woman’s hand and to sit next to her on the settee. Mark waited until the two ladies were settled before he pulled up a wooden chair before them, sat, and leaned forward, elbows braced on his knees.

  “How long did you know John?” Mark asked her, his tone gentle and sympathetic. He would not use a notebook. That might make the young woman nervous. He wanted her to feel as comfortable as possible. That was important when interviewing sources, especially if he wanted them to remember important details.

  “Since April,” Lady Arabelle said quietly. “He and I met at a ball. The Baxters’ ball.”

  “The Baxters always host the most lovely balls.” Lady Harriett patted the young woman’s hand.

  Mark gave his aunt a reproving glare.

  “Oh, yes, dear, back to the point,” Lady Harriet murmured, casting down her eyes and turning pink.

  “You had your debut this Season?” Mark asked Lady Arabelle next.

  “That’s right.” The quiet blonde nodded.

  “And how soon after you met did John propose?” Mark asked.

  The hint of a smile floated across the young woman’s pretty face. “Not until early July.”

  “July is a lovely month for engagements,” Lady Harriet said with a sigh.

  Another reproving glare from Mark.

  “Oh, quite right. I shall just lock up my lips and toss the key. Such a bother, my mouth sometimes.” Lady Harriet made a show of using an imaginary key to lock her lips.

  “John courted you until then?” Mark asked Lady Arabelle.

  Lady Arabelle nodded. “Yes, some of the time. Before that he seemed as if he might be keen on Molly.”

  Mark furrowed his brow. “Molly? Molly Lester?”

  “Yes, he’d danced with Molly a few times and we both thought he might offer for her.”

  “I’d never met Miss Lester before today,” Lady Harriet interjected. “She seems like a fine girl.”

  “Oh, she is,” Lady Arabelle replied with the hint of a smile on her otherwise sad face. “I’ve known her for years.”

  “Did you have other suitors?” Mark asked, pointedly ignoring his aunt this time.

  A blush stained Lady Arabelle’s pale cheeks. “Yes. I had another offer, actually.”

  “Two offers in one Season?” Lady Harriet’s mouth formed an O. “Good for you, dear.” She patted Arabelle’s hand again and smiled at her approvingly.

  Mark cleared his throat and his aunt looked properly chastised again. He steepled his fingers in front of his face. “Who was your other offer from, Lady Arabelle?”

  “Lord Hillenbrand.” She uttered the name so quietly that Mark barely heard it.

  “Hillenbrand? My, he’s a good-looking one.” Lady Harriet pulled her black handkerchief from her bosom and fanned herself with it.

  Mark didn’t need to say anything this time. Lady Harriet put her handkerchief over her lips and mumbled, “I’m so sorry. I’m rubbish at keeping my mouth shut.”

  Lady Arabelle gave Harriet a patient smile.

  “And you turned Hillenbrand down because of John?” Mark continued.

  “Oh, no.” Lady Arabelle sat up straighter. “Not because of John. I mean, I fancied John, of course, but I didn’t want to interfere with his pursuit of Molly. It wasn’t until I realized he didn’t fancy Molly that I truly allowed myself to care for him.”

  “Wise, dear.” Lady Harriet nodded sagely, briefly closing her eyes. “Quite wise.”

  Mark narrowed his eyes on Lady Arabelle. “How did you know he didn’t fancy Molly?”

  Another blush from Lady Arabelle. She glanced away. “He told me.”

  Lady Harriet gasped before covering her mouth (and her eyes this time) with her handkerchief.

  “And that’s when you refused Hillenbrand’s offer?” Mark prodded.

  “No. I’d already refused it,” Lady Arabelle replied. “Lord Hillenbrand is quite nice, but I feared we would not suit.”

  “Also wise,” Lady Harriet mumbled from behind the mass of her handkerchief.

  “Was Hillenbrand angry with your refusal?” Mark continued.

  Arabelle twisted the handkerchief in her hands. “I’m certain he wasn’t pleased, but he never seemed angry.”

  Mark leaned forward and searched the young woman’s face. “He didn’t say or do anything that made you think he was displeased with either you or John?”

  “No.” Lady Arabelle shook her head and her curly golden locks bounced. “We all remained friends. I hoped he might fancy Molly. I thought perhaps they might suit.” Arabelle took a deep breath. “You don’t think anything untoward happened to John, do you?” she asked breathlessly.

  Lady Harriet made a funny sort of strangled noise, but otherwise kept her lips sealed. She’d lowered her handkerchief to her mouth again. Mark was convinced her next move would be to stuff the thing inside of her mouth. He would not object.

  Mark shifted in his seat. “I need you to think back to the night he died. The dinner party. Did you see anything out of the ordinary that night? Did John say anything? Mention anyone?”

  Lady Arabelle’s bottom lip trembled and her brow knitted. After several moments, she shook her head. “No. I … Mother and Molly and Mrs. Lester and I all arrived together.”

  Lady Harriet had been rendered speechl
ess apparently, because now she was simply staring at Lady Arabelle in awe, waiting for her answers, her turban also tipped forward as if it was on tenterhooks.

  “And did you stay together all evening?” Mark asked.

  “Yes. Of course.” Lady Arabelle nodded.

  “None of you left one another’s company?”

  The young woman’s face clouded with confusion. “No. We were in the dining room most of the night. Why?”

  “Did Lord Hillenbrand or Mr. Cartwright do or say anything out of the ordinary that night?”

  She sat quietly for another moment. “No. We were all talking and laughing and having a good time until…” She drew a long, shaky breath. “Until John collapsed.”

  Tears filled Lady Harriet’s eyes too. She dabbed at them with her handkerchief and squeezed Lady Arabelle’s hand.

  Mark finally pulled a notebook from his coat pocket. He opened it to a blank page, then stood and crossed to the writing desk in the corner where he found a quill and ink. He quickly drew a large oval on the blank page. He put the initials JC at the top. He strode back to where Lady Arabelle sat. “John was sitting here, correct?” He pointed at the diagram on the page.

  “Yes.” Lady Arabelle nodded.

  “Where was everyone else?” Mark asked.

  While Lady Harriet hovered over her shoulder, Lady Arabelle took the quill from Mark and added initials to indicate where the other diners had been. “I was to his right. Then Mother. Then Molly and Mrs. Lester. Lord Anthony was to his left, then Lord Hillenbrand, then Mr. Cartwright.”

  Mark took back the quill and notebook. “Thank you, Lady Arabelle. Just a few more questions.”

  “You’re doing splendidly, dear,” Lady Harriet said, as if she participated in investigations regularly.

  Lady Arabelle nodded bravely. “Yes, go ahead.”

  Mark sat back down and faced the young woman. He wanted to look into her eyes when he asked this question. “When John collapsed. What happened? Who tried to save him?”

  Lady Arabelle’s eyes filled with tears that spilled down her pale cheeks. “I … did. I stood and tried to reach him but Mr. Hillenbrand and Mr. Cartwright stopped me. They said we should wait for the doctor.”

  “Oh, dear, how awful it must have been,” Lady Harriet interjected.

  “What did the others do?” Mark asked, still focused on Lady Arabelle’s face.

  “There wasn’t much they could do.” The young woman uttered a shaking sigh. “Everyone jumped from their seats and stared for the most part. Lord Anthony rushed to him and listened to see if he was breathing.”

  Lady Harriet dabbed at her eyes while nodding intently. “Awful, dear. Just awful.”

  “One more question,” Mark said. “Did John say anything to you that night or just before that indicated that he’d had a falling-out with any of the other men who attended the dinner?”

  Lady Arabelle sat silently for a few moments more. “No, nothing. He didn’t know Mr. Cartwright well and he was fast friends with both Lord Hillenbrand and Lord Anthony.”

  Mark closed the notebook and stuck it back into his coat pocket. He stood again and crossed to the desk to return the quill, making a mental note to never allow Lady Harriet into another interview. “Thank you, Lady Arabelle. You’ve been quite helpful. That will be all.”

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

  Nicole and Regina hovered outside the doors to the small green drawing room, their ears pressed against the wood. “Mark is in there with Lady Arabelle,” Nicole reported. A zing of excitement shot through her. She loved the start of an investigation. Even one she hadn’t been invited to participate in.

  It was much better listening at doors than dwelling on what had happened last night between her and Mark in bed. It had been … amazing. Unforgettable. At the moment, she was doing her best to try and forget it. Because if she thought about it … considered what had happened between them last night, the intimacies they’d shared, the walls she’d spent ten years building tumbling down in a matter of a few hours, she would go mad. It was much better to focus on the investigation, at least the part she and Regina could help with. It was the only thing keeping Nicole sane at the moment. She liked nothing more than a good investigation. It was the perfect distraction.

  Regina nodded. “Who should we start with?”

  Nicole’s voice remained a whisper. “They suspect Mr. Cartwright and Lord Hillenbrand. There’s little chance they’ll allow us to question either of them first. So I propose that we start with Miss Lester and her mother. No doubt they have the least to say, but we can begin at the bottom and work our way up.”

  Regina threaded her fingers together and stretched them in front of her. “Sounds like the perfect plan.”

  Nicole smiled at her friend. “All we have to do is mingle in the other drawing room.” The ladies had already decided their informal investigation would have to take the shape of merely being hospitable to their guests and asking discreet questions over tea. Overt questioning would draw suspicion.

  “Let’s go.” Nicole moved away from the green drawing room’s door.

  The two ladies made their way to the larger drawing room. Nicole paused just before they went inside. She leaned over to Regina and said, “Pay attention to the types of questions I ask. I’ve been trained by the best, Daffin Oakleaf.”

  A quick wink from Regina was her only answer before they pushed open the doors to the blue drawing room and made their way inside. After the introductions had been made, Nicole and Regina took places in chairs at right angles next to the settee upon which Miss Lester and her mother sat.

  Mr. Cartwright stalked out into the corridor. Lord Hillenbrand exited too. Lady Arabelle’s mother had gone to wander the corridor to wait for her daughter’s return. Lord Anthony, Miss Lester, and her mother, Tabitha, were the only guests who remained.

  Tea had been served and Nicole made use of it to begin her conversation with Miss Lester. Nicole studied Molly Lester. The young woman was slight and pale with nondescript brown hair and pale brown eyes, freckles on her face and a melancholy air. She looked as if she’d been kept in a sickroom most of her life and had only just come out to see the sun. She was the complete opposite of her beautiful, well-dressed friend Lady Arabelle.

  “Would you care for some tea, Miss Lester?” Nicole asked.

  “Yes, thank you.” Miss Lester’s voice was tremulous and her feet patted the floor in a nervous fashion. She wore a black gown of questionable value and Nicole doubted her pearls were real. Molly’s mother stood and stared out the window across the vast lawn. Good. The better to speak with her daughter alone.

  Meanwhile, Lord Anthony remained quietly in the corner looking lost in thought.

  Nicole made a show of preparing Miss Lester’s tea. “One sugar or two?”

  “Two, please,” the young woman replied softly.

  Nicole handed the cup to Miss Lester and poured some tea for herself and Regina. “I’m sorry we had to meet under such trying circumstances.” She kept her voice low so their conversation wouldn’t be overheard by the room’s other occupants.

  “I agree. This is a sad occasion indeed.” Miss Lester shook her head and heaved a miserable sigh.

  Nicole slowly stirred the lumps of sugar into her teacup. “It must have been awfully difficult for you, witnessing such a horror.”

  The young lady took a shaky breath and her eyes filled with tears. She met Nicole’s gaze. “Oh, it was, Mrs. Grimaldi. It was.”

  Regina silently sipped her tea while Nicole asked, “Can you tell me what happened?”

  Miss Lester nodded slowly. “One moment we were all talking and laughing and the next, Lord Coleford was clutching his throat and choking.” Her eyes widened in fear. “He fell to the floor and his wineglass spilled everywhere. We called for the doctor, but by the time the man arrived, it was too late.” The last word was barely a whisper. Tears slipped down Miss Lester’s cheeks.

  Nicole reached out and squeezed the younger woma
n’s wrist. “Did anyone try to help him?”

  Regina leaned forward in her seat, but kept her silence, her astute blue eyes assessing everything.

  Miss Lester pressed a pale hand to her cheek. “Lady Arabelle tried to go to him but Mr. Cartwright and Lord Hillenbrand held her back. They didn’t want her exposed to such awfulness. They may have saved her life. If she’d put her lips to his, she might have been poisoned too.”

  “Poisoned?” Nicole’s teacup nearly toppled from her hand. She righted it and cleared her throat. “Who told you Lord Coleford was poisoned?”

  “Wasn’t he?” Miss Lester asked timidly, her eyes darting back and forth between Nicole and Regina’s faces. “Lord Hillenbrand told me that’s what everyone was saying. Your husband and Mr. Oakleaf are here because they suspect Lord Coleford was murdered, aren’t they? The rumor about the poison is true.”

  “My husband was merely asked to investigate,” Nicole assured her. She made a mental note to ask Lord Hillenbrand where he’d heard that news.

  “Oh, Mrs. Grimaldi, Lady Regina.” Miss Lester turned to look at both women, one after the other. “Who would do such a hideous thing? And to poor Lord Coleford? He was a terribly nice man.” She shook her head piteously and took a sip of tea.

  “Did you know him well?” Regina interjected, her voice kind and patient.

  Another head shake from Miss Lester. “Not well, no. At the start of the Season I danced with him a few times at a ball here and there. That was before Arabelle captured his fancy.”

  “You’re friendly with Lady Arabelle?” Nicole asked.

  “Oh, yes, we’ve been friends for years. We’re the same age, Arabelle and I. Made our debut together this year. Of course Arabelle is the beauty. She has all the admirers. I cannot blame them.”

  “Did you know any of the other people at the dinner?” Nicole asked next, studying the minute frown that had crept upon the other woman’s features.