A Lady's Guide to Etiquette and Murder

by Dianne Freeman

  “There’s not much to discuss there,” Fiona said. “He’s a bit of an unknown quantity, being so new in town. I spoke to Lady Bradley last night. She and her husband spent some time in the town of Kimberly, in South Africa. She said she would never have known him had someone not given her his name.”

  “If Lady Bradley would wear her spectacles she might see many more people she knows,” I said.

  “My thoughts exactly. But on further questioning, I learned she last saw the man some nine years ago and one does change considerably as one moves from twenty to thirty. He owned a mining operation that occupied so much of his time, he didn’t take part in the local society.” She shrugged. “He was a rather distant heir, after all, with few expectations. Not really part of their circle. But he seems like a very good prospect now.”

  She looked up as her lady’s maid slipped into the room. “Yes, Grace?”

  “Begging your pardon, my lady, but you asked me to tell you when the children returned from their outing.”

  Grace curtsied, and was about to leave the room, when Fiona raised a hand to stop her. “Grace, do you happen to know anyone in service with Viscount Ainsworthy?” She gave the girl a winning smile, hoping to encourage gossip.

  Grace frowned. “Well, I don’t know him myself, but I met with a friend on my last half day who told me her cousin is the new butler there.”

  “Did she tell you anything about the viscount?” Lily blurted, before Fiona could form a more discreet question.

  The girl looked down at her feet, uncomfortable with the conversation. “I wouldn’t know, ma’am. If he did tell her about the gentleman, it wasn’t passed on to me. But, if it’s not speaking out of turn, my lady”—she turned to me—“he might have said something to your Bridget.”

  I blinked. “My Bridget?”

  “Yes, my lady. Mr. Barnes, that’s my friend’s cousin, and your Bridget are . . . good friends.”

  I noticed her hesitation. She didn’t want to say too much, but it appeared Bridget was stepping out with the viscount’s butler. Disaster!

  Fiona dismissed the maid and rose to her feet. Lily and I followed. “Thank you for your assistance, Fiona. Obviously you can see we must hurry home.”

  “Yes,” Lily said with an excited squeak. “We must find out if Bridget knows anything about Viscount Ainsworthy.”

  “Yes, yes, that too, but more importantly, I may be about to lose my maid.”

  * * *

  “Oh, no, my lady. You needn’t worry about that. I like Mr. Barnes well enough, but I’m too young to think about marriage just now, and if ever I do marry, it wouldn’t be to someone in service. Maybe someday I might want to tie myself down, but it will be to a man who wants some other kind of future, like an inn or something.”

  As soon as we’d arrived back home, I tracked Bridget down in my bedchamber and asked her about Ainsworthy’s butler. Her words were music to my ears, but I knew if I let her continue, she’d go on long into the evening, regaling me with images of her glorious future. One I fully supported, of course, but not right this moment.

  “I’m relieved to hear it, Bridget. Has Mr. Barnes told you anything about the viscount? He’s called on my sister, you know.” In fact, two of Lily’s three men had called while we were visiting Fiona, much to Lily’s disappointment and my relief. I still didn’t trust her ability to say no, should one of them suddenly pop the question.

  Bridget was nodding. “He says Viscount Ainsworthy is an excellent man, my lady. A fair and kind master. He doesn’t drink overmuch, or keep odd hours, like a lot of young men. He’s a bit private, Barnes says, but he reckons that’s just because he’s not used to having servants around to do for him.”

  I could understand that. Servants ran the house, for goodness’ sake. Privacy was out of the question. One was obliged to forget their presence and go about her business. If one wasn’t used to that, it could be a bit overwhelming. “Thank you, Bridget. I was concerned for Lily’s sake, as no one knows much about the viscount.”

  “I understand, my lady. If I hear anything to his disfavor, I’ll be sure to tell you, but it sounds to me like he’s a good man.”

  “Excellent,” I said. “Now, we’re dining out tonight, Bridget, then on to the Witherspoons, for what they are calling a musical evening.” I prayed they would have actual musicians and not just somebody’s debutante daughters.

  “Very good, my lady. Perhaps you’d like to wear the blue gown?”

  “Yes, that should be fine.”

  “And will you be wearing your new bracelet?”

  I gave her a sharp look. “New bracelet?”

  Bridget stepped into the dressing room for a moment and returned with something sparkling in her hand. My stomach did a flip.

  “It was in the bag you used last night.”

  Oh, my heavens! I hadn’t noticed it while it was on her wrist, but I’d wager my last pound I was looking at Alicia’s stolen bracelet.

  Chapter 9

  After Bridget left me, I sat for a while at my dressing table, staring at Alicia’s bracelet. It was heavy and studded with sapphires. How did it get into my reticule? I had spent some time with Alicia last night, but I had no idea if it was before or after she lost the bracelet. If before, might it have slipped off her hand and into my bag? One would be forced to wonder, though, what her hand was doing in my bag. Could the clasp have given way?

  I fastened the bracelet, and gave the two ends a tiny pull, terrified of damaging this most expensive piece of jewelry. The clasp held. I bit my lip and gave the ends a stiff tug. Again it held together. Of course it did. It was a foolish idea anyway. Even assuming the bracelet fell off her wrist, there was the question of how it had fallen into my bag, which had a drawstring closure. Someone, some thief, and a very good one at that, had deliberately removed the bracelet from Alicia’s wrist and, just as deliberately, placed it in my bag. But why?

  Well, whatever the reason, I had to get this bracelet back to Alicia as soon as possible. It was only five o’clock. I still had time to pay her a call, give her the bracelet, along with my explanations, vague though they were, then return home to change for the evening.

  Just as I’d made this decision, Bridget knocked, and entered my room. “My lady, Lord and Lady Harleigh have called for you.”

  Lovely. A visit from Graham and Delia. I wondered at the audacity of Graham showing his face here after our conversation last night and briefly considered saying I was out. It would be unkind to slight Delia, as she’d done nothing to offend me, but it would take every bit of the good manners my mother drummed into me, to sit through half an hour with him. To ensure this visit wouldn’t develop into another argument about money, I gave Bridget instructions to bring Rose down to greet her aunt and uncle.

  I swept into the drawing room, all false confidence. “Delia. Graham. How kind of you to call.” Both rose on my entrance, and I stepped to Delia’s side. She was dressed for town in a tailored walking suit in a deep burgundy, with a leghorn style hat, sporting silk flowers of the same hue. She gave me an affectionate peck on the cheek.

  “I didn’t realize you’d come to town with Graham,” I remarked, as we all seated ourselves. Delia and I shared the sofa, with Graham opposite in a chair. It was a little late for tea, and since I didn’t know what they were about, I decided to bide my time for now.

  “Oh, I only arrived today for a brief visit to my mother, just a few days, then I’ll return. She has a charity event on Thursday, at the Savoy Hotel, so I decided to come and lend my support. Will you be attending?”

  Hmm. Apparently we were going to pretend all was well between us. Perhaps Delia didn’t know about Graham’s lawsuit. That actually made a certain sense. If he won, he wouldn’t have to share. I filed that possibility away for later consideration. “I shall check our schedule,” I said. “If we’re available, we shall certainly attend.”

  “We?” She looked surprised. “Oh, that’s right. Graham tells me your aunt and sister are
with you at present.”

  “Yes, my mother wanted Lily to experience a London Season, and our aunt Henrietta accompanied her. It’s been lovely having them with me.”

  “And it helps to make your situation here more acceptable, now that you’re not living alone.”

  I gave her a tight smile.

  “And how is Rose?”

  “She is very well, but you may see for yourself in a moment. I’ve asked to have her brought down to greet you.”

  Delia’s face took on a wistful expression. One would think she hadn’t seen Rose for years. “We miss her so, her cousins and I. I wondered if you might like me to take her back to the country when I leave. With Parliament in session, Graham is staying in town. I’d so enjoy her company in his absence. I’m sure she found the city exciting at first, but by now she might be longing for home.”

  I knew Delia meant well—at least I gave her the benefit of doubt—but the comment stung. “This is Rose’s home now,” I replied.

  “Yes,” Graham added, “but you must be so occupied with your sister’s social activities that there can’t be much time for your daughter.”

  I did not give Graham the benefit of doubt. How dare he imply I’d been neglecting my daughter? But as I drew breath to speak, Delia took him to task.

  “Graham, it’s so obvious you have only sons. Rose is likely reveling in the attention of her two aunts and fascinated with all the dressing up. I’m certain she’s having a lovely time.” She turned her sympathetic gaze back to me. “But the Season is so hectic, it might be best for Rose to return to her routine. She so enjoyed taking lessons with the boys. And to be honest, the air in town is not altogether healthful for a child’s young lungs.”

  Rose entered the room at that moment, escorted by her nanny. I had a little time to consider Delia’s suggestion as Rose skipped straight to her aunt, regaling her with the wonders of shopping. “We had such a good time, Aunt Delia!”

  I suspected Delia was trying to manipulate me somehow, though for what purpose I had no idea.

  “Then we went to the drapers, and I picked out my own fabric.”

  Unless this was a first step in luring me back to the old pile. But manipulation or not, I had to admit her words rang true.

  “It’s embroidered with horses, and riders, and hounds.”

  Perhaps it was wrong to interrupt her studies for the whole spring, and thanks to Graham, I couldn’t afford to hire a governess for her just now. Her attention span might extend to another week, but soon she’d become restless. And while we took a daily walk together, Delia was right: no one would call the London air fresh or invigorating.

  “Then we went to Fortnum’s, where they have the prettiest tea cakes.”

  Oh, dear. Delia’s face reflected her amusement at Rose’s account—hardly the typical activities of a seven-year-old. Was I a terrible mother?

  I found myself twisting the ribbon on the front of my blouse and forced my fingers to drop it. “Rose,” I said, “your aunt Delia suggested you might want to join her when she returns to Harleigh in a few days. Would you like that?”

  I fought the urge to cry at the way my little girl’s face lit up. “I’ll be able to ride Pierre,” she squealed.

  Damn! Replaced by a pony. I consoled myself with the fact that she didn’t mention her cousins either. At her age, perhaps no human could compete with a pony. After some consultation, I agreed it might be beneficial for Rose to return with Delia at the end of the week. She wouldn’t be so far away, I reminded myself. Harleigh was near Guildford, just a short train ride away. I could travel there whenever I needed to see her. And it wouldn’t be forever either. As soon as the Season ended, I’d bring Rose back home, and if Graham and I were still battling over my bank account, perhaps I’d ask Aunt Hetty to pay for a governess.

  I gave in at that point and rang for Mrs. Thompson to bring tea.

  “Yes, my lady. And Mr. Kendrick has just arrived to call on Miss Lily. As this room was occupied, I put him in your library while I came to check with you.”

  My library? I suppose I couldn’t fault Mrs. Thompson for her actions as I had no spare rooms for visitors to wait. But the library was my private space and Kendrick was little more than a stranger. “I’m sure Miss Lily will be happy to come down. If you’ll let her know she has a caller, then see to the tea. I’ll fetch Mr. Kendrick myself.”

  I excused myself from Graham and Delia and headed to the library, pausing at the doorway when I caught sight of Kendrick at my desk. In the palm of his hand he held one of my prized possessions, a crystal wave that seemed almost to be in motion. A tiny inkwell, in the shape of a shell, rested at the base of the wave, empty as I thought the piece too beautiful and valuable to stain with ink, and far too small to bother filling. He gazed at it with the eye of a connoisseur. Or maybe a thief. I felt a tingle of suspicion.

  “My father found that in Paris when he last visited,” I said, stepping into the room.

  His head snapped around in surprise. A smile transformed his expression to one of pure delight. “The workmanship is amazing. Is it Baccarat?”

  I nodded, removing the inkwell from his grip and returning it to the desk. I know he’d been left here to his own devices, but it bothered me to see him handling my things. After all, there was a thief about. “You have a good eye.”

  “I appreciate objects such as this, both useful and lovely to gaze upon.” He turned his own gaze from the inkwell to me, his eyes still glowing with pleasure. “If one must make inkwells for a living, why not make them works of art?”

  “I suspect the craftsman who made this saw himself as making a work of art in the form of an inkwell.”

  His smile did not quite ease my suspicions. “Did you happen to attend the Chesterton musicale earlier this week?” Heavens, did I really ask him that?

  “I did, or rather I put in an appearance. Unfortunately, I couldn’t stay for the entertainment. I understand the Chesterton girls were to sing. Why do you ask?”

  Why? Because the man had handled something valuable of mine, should I assume him to be a thief? What was wrong with me? Still, I was burning to know if he’d also been at the Haverhill reception but could think of no way to ask without looking ridiculous.

  The stolen bracelet upstairs was making me overly suspicious. Kendrick’s fortune gave him no reason to resort to theft. I gave him a smile. “I simply wondered if your taste in music matched your taste in art.”

  Taking his arm, I guided him toward the door. “I’m afraid you must endure a family gathering if you wish to see Lily. Lord and Lady Harleigh have paid me a visit and we are just about to have tea. Lily should be down momentarily.”

  I led Kendrick to the drawing room. Amid introductions, Lily arrived, followed by Jenny with the tea service. The two young people seated themselves at one end of the sofa and fell into private conversation, while I poured tea and made small talk with Graham and Delia. This left Rose at a loose end. Never a shy child, she stepped right over to Lily and Kendrick and insinuated herself into their conversation by whispering something into his ear.

  Kendrick responded with an exaggerated expression of shock. “Are you seriously considering leaving town already? Why, you’ve only just arrived.”

  Rose shrugged. “I like the country.”

  “But what have you for comparison? Tell me, what sights have you seen in London? The Tower perhaps, or Madame Tussauds?”

  “Gore and horror stories,” Delia said, brushing the suggestion aside with a flick of her fingers. “Hardly of interest to a young girl.”

  I hid my smile behind my cup, noting the growing interest in Rose’s eyes. Had Delia forgotten she’d spent the last year with her two male cousins? Rose had as much fascination with gore and horror as the boys.

  “Then there’s the Crown Jewels,” Kendrick added suggestively.

  “Remember how you miss Pierre, dear.”

  I gaped at the two adults. Were they fighting over my daughter?

  �
�I do miss Pierre,” Rose confided to Kendrick. “He’s my pony.”

  “Ah, then the wonders of London can’t compete.” He raised his hands in a gesture of surrender. “I understand.”

  Our guests lingered another three-quarters of an hour. By that time it was too late to pay a call on Alicia. In fact, Bridget barely had time to get me dressed for dinner, after which we left, with Fiona, to attend the musicale.

  The hostess had coaxed a talented soprano to perform for us, but the music flowed by without my notice—as did much of the conversation. With my mind on returning Alicia’s bracelet, I became as dull as the beige-painted walls. Even Fiona stopped trying to engage my interest.

  I was tempted more than once to confide in her and enlist her aid in my mission. But temptation battled with pride, and pride was the victor. I would not use my friend as a buffer or a crutch. I’d faced Alicia twice now and survived. In fact, our last interaction had been quite cordial. I could do this myself.

  As we drove home, I allowed Fiona to berate me for my lack of attention all evening. Since I had no ready excuse, I pulled myself from my fugue long enough to correct Lily when she referred to Mr. Kendrick as “Kenny,” and rejoice with her about a proposed outing with Ainsworthy. He was to take her driving tomorrow. Lucky girl! I made a mental note to ensure Aunt Hetty would be home when he called, as she would need a chaperone, and I had to return that bracelet.

  * * *

  I had two choices in paying my call to Alicia. I could wait until early afternoon, the acceptable time for a morning call, hope she had no other callers, and if she did, I had to outlast them. The thought of doing so set my head pounding. The alternative would be to call on her at an unacceptable time, which was any time in the morning, and hope Alicia would make herself available to me.

  I decided to take the second option and hedged my bet by sending a note in advance of my call. I told her I had information about her bracelet and asked if she would receive me this morning. The reply came just as I was ready to leave.