A Lady's Guide to Etiquette and Murder

by Dianne Freeman

  “Mr. Capshaw, the footman we were waiting for this afternoon.”

  “You were waiting for a footman to visit?” Lily’s expression revealed her confusion.

  “It’s a long story, dear, and I doubt the inspector has time for it.” I turned to Delaney. “Do you mind their being here? I’m sure you have questions for the two of us.” I motioned to George and myself.

  “I do have questions, Lady Harleigh.” He stood, eager to get on with it. “I would prefer to speak with you one at a time. If there’s somewhere Mr. Hazelton and I can go, I’ll speak with him first.”

  I escorted them to my library, then returned to the drawing room to bring Aunt Hetty and Lily up to date. Since I’d been shielding Lily from some of the incidents of the last few days, I had to provide details of the stolen bracelet and the housebreaker.

  “Holy cats!” she said when I’d finally finished. “Nothing like this ever happens at home!”

  “Nothing like this ever happened here before either,” I was quick to assure her. “And please don’t use that phrase again. I don’t know exactly what’s at the bottom of this, but I must assume it’s associated with one of your gentlemen.”

  “I have to concur, Frances,” Aunt Hetty said. “None of this happened until those men started calling on Lily.”

  Was that true? I reached for my forgotten glass of brandy, swirling the contents in an attempt to slow my thoughts. Somehow this felt like we were jumping to conclusions. “Lily had only just met them when the bracelet was stolen at Alicia’s party. The question is, are any of these events related to each other?”

  “The stolen bracelet and the break-in are related, don’t you think?”

  I nodded at Hetty’s observation. “Yes, I firmly believe the thief came back to retrieve his stolen goods. And I’m quite certain the footman was coming here to reveal something about one of Lily’s gentlemen. So it is conceivable his information, and his death, are related to one of those three men.”

  “You don’t know that, Franny, and I can’t believe any of those gentlemen is a murderer. Are you sure he wasn’t coming here to tell you something about the thief? Maybe he knew who it is.”

  I pondered that possibility for a moment, but it just didn’t feel right.

  “Mr. Capshaw worked for the woman whose bracelet was stolen.” Hetty was quicker to voice her thoughts. “If he knew who took it, it would make more sense for him to tell Mrs. Stoke-Whitney.”

  But Lily wasn’t prepared to give up without a fight. “Then the footman must have overheard something else you were discussing.”

  Hetty gave me a searching look. “Did you discuss anything else that might have prompted him to seek you out?”

  I struggled to bring the scene back to my mind. “The footman brought the tea tray when we were discussing the names on the list of suspects. That’s when I noted that all three of your suitors were on the list. I also mentioned hiring the investigator. He left the room at that point and never returned.”

  My gaze drifted across the tea table to see Lily watching me. I recalled how headstrong she’d been as a child and saw a hint of that stubborn streak in her expression now. “Lily, I’m sorry, but until we know who murdered that poor man, I don’t want you to see any of those three gentlemen.”

  Lily leapt to her feet. “Franny, you can’t be serious.”

  My patience was wearing thin. There was headstrong, and there was plain foolish. “Lily, a man’s throat was slashed! Do I need to take you out to the back garden so you can see for yourself just how serious this is?”

  Her resistance crumbled at the mention of the murdered man.

  “I agree with you, dear. The very idea is almost incredible, but one of those men may be a ruthless killer.”

  “But even if that’s true, then two of them are kind, respectable gentlemen.”

  “I’ll grant you that, but which two?”

  Lily appeared taken aback by that thought, but as I watched her chewing on her lip, her hands on her hips, I could tell she was trying to come up with a way around this prohibition. “Well, it couldn’t be Mr. Kendrick,” she said. “He was with Aunt Hetty and me when the murder happened.”

  My fingers rubbed at a spot between my eyes that was beginning to throb. I now knew why my mother chose to stay at home and leave Lily’s coming out to me. I was never this stubborn. Fortunately Hetty came to my rescue.

  “I have to agree with Frances on this. But we need to come up with some subterfuge in order to avoid the gentlemen.”

  “What do you mean?” I asked as Lily pulled a face and dropped into the chair.

  “All three gentlemen will find it strange, possibly insulting, if we refuse them entry to the house. And one of them may become suspicious. If the killer is one of these men, we don’t want him to think we know who he is, do we? Especially since we don’t.”

  “That’s sound logic, Mrs. Chesney.”

  We all turned to see Delaney in the doorway, with George right behind him. The two men entered the room. George ambled over to the sofa and seated himself beside me. Delaney remained standing, his gaze traveling from Lily, to Hetty, to me. “Is it possible for you ladies to remove to the country? Until we discover who murdered Mr. Capshaw and why, you may not be safe staying in this house.”

  My thoughts flew to my daughter. “Then I definitely want Rose moved to safety. And you as well, Lily.” But Hetty’s words from a moment ago, not Lily’s defiant glare, made me second-guess this decision.

  “On the other hand, it would look odd for Lily to leave at this time.” Seeing Delaney’s expression of doubt, I explained, “Lily was just introduced to society, and the Season is rather a short period of time. To leave London so soon would raise everyone’s eyebrows, and might send a signal to the killer that we suspect him.”

  “Perhaps if we put it about that Lily became ill, and needed some fresh country air for her recovery,” George suggested.

  “That’s a thought.” I played around with an idea forming in my head. “Delia, my sister-in-law,” I added for Delaney’s benefit, “has offered to take Rose back to Harleigh when she returns there in two days. I could ask her to take Lily as well, for a week or so. We could concoct the story that Lily has found London society a bit overwhelming, and longs for the solitude of the country.”

  Lily’s gaze shot daggers at me from across the room. “I’m hardly overwhelmed, and I don’t want people to think I can’t hold my own in London society.”

  “No one else will hear that story, dear, only Delia.” I spoke in a most sympathetic tone. I truly felt her disappointment, but I needed to hold firm on this point. “To everyone else, we’ll say you’ve been taken ill, and that’s why you’ve gone away. Don’t we have some soiree or other tonight? You could actually start acting as if you were unwell there. Mention a headache or something vague.”

  “But I don’t want to be ill, or act ill, or go away. I want to stay here.”

  Hetty pinned her with a look. “The only other option is to turn the gentlemen away at the door, and not only is that unkind, it might put the entire household in danger.”

  Bravo, Hetty, I thought. Fight drama with drama.

  “I suppose I have no choice then,” Lily grumbled, as if she were being sent to prison rather than a lovely English manor house. “But it’s only for a week?”

  “Until it’s safe to come back,” I amended.

  “What about you and Mrs. Chesney?” Delaney asked.

  “I’m not leaving. If you recall, I’m still in a legal battle with my brother-in-law and I want to stay in town where I can keep an eye on him. And I’d like to be on hand to see this case resolved.” I could see Delaney didn’t like it, but he could hardly force me to leave. “Aunt Hetty, what say you? We should be safe from Lily’s beaux as long as she’s in the country, but you’re welcome to go with her if you like. You are her chaperone after all.”

  Hetty’s eyes glistened with mischief. “I think Lily will be adequately looked after at H
arleigh, and my services might be better utilized here.” She gave me a firm nod. “I’m staying.”

  “This feels very unfair.” Lily’s face was the picture of outrage.

  “Lily, my dear, those men have no interest in Frances or me. It’s you they’re pursuing. So while you may be in danger if you stayed here, I will be perfectly safe. The men will simply cease to call.”

  No one but Hetty and I seemed pleased with this decision. Lily was sullen and silent. George seemed on the verge of protest. Delaney grumbled something unintelligible, then said, “Well, if this is settled, perhaps we could have our conversation now, Lady Harleigh?”

  “Of course.” I rose to lead him from the room. “Aunt Hetty, you might want to ring for a fresh pot of tea for Mr. Hazelton.” Instead, as I left the room, she headed over to the brandy cabinet.

  Delaney followed me to the library. Rather than use the desk, we seated ourselves in two chairs near the window. At his request, I relayed the events of the afternoon, from the time Lily and Hetty left, to the point when Delaney himself arrived. Although I didn’t mention the details of my conversation with George.

  Delaney scribbled notes in his book until I’d finished, then flipped back a few pages. He released a sigh. “So you and Mr. Hazelton were together when the body was found. Were you together the entire afternoon?”

  I was about to answer in the affirmative, when I remembered George had actually left for a time. Good heavens! Did I have to go over that with Delaney? I lifted my gaze to see his brows raised in question.

  “Mr. Hazelton returned to his home for a short time. I’m not sure how long. Perhaps fifteen or twenty minutes.”

  “I see.” He scribbled something in his book. “Glad I pressed you. It seems you weren’t going to mention that detail.” He looked up and pinned me with a hard look. “Had you forgotten?”

  I shrugged. “I suppose I must have, with all the excitement that came afterward. It can hardly surprise you.”

  Delaney shook his head as he wrote down a few more words in his book. “Poor man,” he muttered.

  “I beg your pardon? Are you referring to Mr. Capshaw?”

  “Hazelton. I’d hate to think that if I proposed marriage to a woman, she’d forget about it in less than an hour.”

  My face grew hot. I wasn’t sure if it was anger or embarrassment as I felt a large portion of both. “It wasn’t a proposal. It was more of a misunderstanding.”

  Delaney’s brows slanted upward. “Really? He called it a proposal.”

  “Did he?” The inspector chuckled at my eagerness. Damn the man and his impudence! “Inspector, if you already knew Mr. Hazelton had gone home, why did you even ask me?”

  “I needed to hear your answer.” He leaned toward me. “Did you forget, Lady Harleigh, or were you trying to provide an alibi for Mr. Hazelton? Did you think he was planning to use you as an alibi?”

  “An alibi? Certainly not.” I fairly spat the words. “Yes, I did forget that Mr. Hazelton had left. No, I did not forget his proposal, if that is any of your concern.” I sat back in my seat, crossing my arms. “I can’t believe he gave you such personal information.”

  Delaney cocked his head. “I asked why he left you alone, when the plan was for him to be here when you spoke to the footman. It’s never my intention to intrude on anyone’s personal lives when I investigate a murder, but it always happens. No need to worry though. I don’t talk to the papers.”

  I glared at the top of his head, listening to his pencil scratch across the page. “Now, what did you do while Mr. Hazelton was gone?”

  I was surprised by the sudden turn in the conversation. “Oh, well, I had ordered tea earlier, and Jenny brought it in right after Mr. Hazelton left. He indicated he was coming back, but since I didn’t know how soon, I asked Jenny to send my maid, Bridget, to me. She stayed with me until Mr. Hazelton returned.”

  “I’d like to speak to them before I leave, if I may?”

  “Of course.” I couldn’t stop myself from rolling my eyes.

  “So you say Mr. Hazelton returned to his home.”

  Lovely. Once again I had no idea what George had said. I didn’t want Delaney to know I’d told George about the anonymous letter, but what if George had already done so? I decided to reveal as little as possible. “He didn’t tell me where he was going at the time. He left through the front door, and returned about twenty minutes later, when he told me he had placed a telephone call. I asked if he had a telephone at his home. He said he did, so I assume he went home. If so, I’m sure you can confirm that with his staff.”

  “Do you know whom he telephoned?”

  “I do not,” I said, pleased I could answer honestly.

  Delaney nodded as he continued writing.

  “You don’t actually suspect him of murdering Mr. Capshaw, do you?”

  He looked up at that. “He’s on the list of suspects for the stolen bracelet.”

  I bristled at the suggestion. “He shouldn’t be.”

  “But he is. And if you recall, his name came up when we were at Mrs. Stoke-Whitney’s home preparing that list, so the footman may have heard it.” He set the notebook in his lap and pointed the stubby pencil at me. “You believe Capshaw wanted to give you some information about one of your sister’s gentlemen, but what if it was Hazelton he was coming here to talk to you about? Someone stopped that footman from talking to you. Mr. Hazelton knew Capshaw was coming here this afternoon. And he conveniently went missing for approximately twenty minutes.”

  “But his staff—”

  “You can be sure I’ll talk with them. Chances are they’ll completely exonerate him. With any luck, they may even be able to provide his whereabouts at the time your house was broken into.”

  “My aunt was with him that afternoon.” I was becoming heartily sick of Delaney’s attitude about George.

  “We don’t know what time that crime took place.”

  “You cannot seriously suspect him of breaking into my house!”

  “I suspect each and every one of the ten people on that list until I have evidence to the contrary.” He must have noticed my stricken face as he glanced up at me. He closed his notebook around his pencil and blew out his breath in a puff. “I’m investigating a crime, Lady Harleigh,” he said in a softer voice. “And I must follow where the evidence leads me. I can’t take someone off my list because you think he’s a nice man.”

  “Oh, come now, Inspector.”

  “Isn’t that what this boils down to? You want to defend him because he’s been a friend to you. But how well do you really know him? After all, you refused his offer of marriage.”

  “He is my dearest friend’s brother, and his offer of marriage was an act of gallantry. He was trying to protect me. Shouldn’t that speak to his character?”

  Delaney shook his head. “Then I hope you’re correct in your assessment of him. I hope the evidence leads me in another direction, but I still have to investigate each name on that list, including Hazelton. If he’s innocent, nothing will come of it.” He stood as if to leave, thought better of it, and sat back down.

  “There’s one more thing, Lady Harleigh,” he said. “These crimes keep circling around you, and while you’re afraid for your daughter and sister, I fear you’re not concerned enough about yourself. You should take the advice you gave your sister and go to the country.”

  I shook my head. “You’re mistaken, Inspector. I’m quite aware I’m in the eye of this storm, at least for the moment. I don’t want to jeopardize their safety by going with them.”

  He nodded. “I see. Then please take care, and perhaps keep some distance from Mr. Hazelton. At least until I can clear him of suspicion. At the risk of earning your anger, there’s one more thing I’d like you to remember in regard to him. He was at your home when your husband died.”

  I felt a cold chill at his words. “You can’t have it both ways, Inspector. If you believe the anonymous letter, then I am the accused. If you don’t believe it, then R
eggie died of a heart attack. Or are you suggesting Mr. Hazelton gave my husband a heart attack?” I spoke with as casual an air as I could muster.

  Delaney cocked his head, reminding me of a terrier. “Interesting you should use those words. Heart attacks can be induced by certain drugs.” Again he rose to his feet. “Your staff is waiting for me belowstairs. I’ll speak to them now, then go next door to interview Hazelton’s servants.”

  I let Delaney take himself downstairs to the kitchen, where the staff were waiting. The man had left me with more questions than answers. So there were drugs that could induce a heart attack? Why hadn’t the doctor mentioned that? But where would one find such drugs, and who on earth wanted Reggie dead? He and I had lived such separate lives that I barely knew his friends, much less his enemies, if there were any. Had he dallied with someone’s wife?

  Stupid question! Of course he had. Alicia for one. But I couldn’t see Arthur Stoke-Whitney whipping up enough anger to kill the man who bedded his wife. As long as they were discreet, that is. But perhaps Reggie had cuckolded some other man. Someone not quite so understanding as Arthur. I gave myself a shake. This was getting me nowhere, and my head was spinning. Did Reggie’s death have anything to do with the current crimes?

  I leaned back in my chair and considered that possibility. Only if he really was murdered, and even then, it was just a possibility. And I still couldn’t bring myself to believe George had anything to do with these crimes. Delaney had told me to take the advice I gave to my sister and leave town. I thought of another piece of advice I had given her. Any man can act like a nice man. One must take the time to find out if he really was.

  Chapter 14

  The next morning I was heading upstairs to change for the fashion show when I heard Mrs. Thompson at the door with Graham. I instinctively clenched my teeth. Could I continue my ascent unseen? When I glanced over my shoulder, he was waiting in the foyer, looking up at me. Too late.

  “Good morning, Graham.” I stepped down to the foyer. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

  “Frances. You’re looking well under the circumstances.” He nodded toward the drawing room. Since I saw no point in refusing to speak to him, I led him inside.