Murder at the Ice Ball

by Leighann Dobbs

  “Did you meet with Lady Rochford at the ice ball?”

  “Yes.” Susanna lifted her head, sniffling. Her eyes were round and red rimmed. “But she was alive when we finished and parted ways.”

  “Finished with what, precisely?”

  Susanna twisted her skirts in her hands. “It’s been seven years since Margaret was born,” she said, her voice small. “Seven years, and four pregnancies in between. None lasted past three months.”

  The agony in her voice was plain. To say that she hadn’t known of Susanna’s difficulties in conceiving would be a lie. Katherine was far too good a detective not to realize that her stepmother had miscarried more than once. She hadn’t counted the number to four, however. “I’m sorry. I’m certain that won’t be the case this time.”

  “Celia had trouble too. So when Lord Bath came to town…”

  Katherine stiffened. “Lord Bath?”

  Susanna nodded and wiped her eyes. “Bath has healing waters. We thought they might help with the pregnancy, to keep us from losing our babies. I arranged it all by letter, and he assured me he brought a trunkful of water if I’d care for it. He only had two vials on him at the time, one for me and one for Celia, but we were arranging to obtain more.”

  “That’s why you were at Lady Dalhousie’s ball? And why Lord Bath was seen following Lady Rochford upstairs?”

  Susanna nodded, still a bit tearful. “We met on the third floor. I didn’t want to be seen, and Celia didn’t want to be parted from Lord Rochford for long. It was only long enough for Lord Bath to give us the vials. Please don’t tell your father. I hadn’t wanted him to know of my fears. I know how it weighs on him every time I miscarry and go into doldrums.”

  “I won’t tell,” she said softly. “However, I must make certain that you’re telling the truth this time. Do you still have the waters?”

  “No. I drank them.” Susanna clenched her hands in her skirts, looking ready to wring them apart. She brightened as she lifted her head and exclaimed, “But I spilled some on my cloak! The black one with the ermine trim. I don’t know what is in those waters, but it left a crystallized white stain that I haven’t been able to get out.”

  At last, Katherine had found the cloaked woman, but it gave her no peace. “I’ll look in the closet before I go up. Don’t strain yourself getting up. Can you tell me something else? How did you gain access to the house without being seen?”

  “I went in the servants’ entrance, of course. I exited the same way. I instructed the carriage to wait around the side, where the servants accept deliveries, so it wasn’t far, and scarcely anyone was around to see.”

  Katherine nodded. Susanna was telling the truth. The maid had seen the ermine-cloaked woman go out the side door, and Susanna would have no way of knowing that. Except the cook had seen the cloaked woman near the scullery. That was in the opposite direction, but perhaps the snow made her take a circuitous route. “And did you have to go past the garden to get to the side street because of the snow?”

  Susanna frowned. “No. I don’t think so. I’m not sure where the garden is. I followed the path the servants follow.”

  Katherine closed her eyes, trying to remember the path. Did it pass the scullery? It must since Susanna was admitting to being there, and Lady Rochford would not have been wearing a cloak as she came from the ball.

  “And Lady Rochford? You said you and she collected the waters from Lord Bath at the same time. But she would not have come from outside.”

  “That’s right. Celia was attending the ball,” Susanna said. “I provided the introductions, as she had never met him before.”

  “After you took the waters, did you leave him alone with her?”

  “No. He walked down after me. Celia was going to the withdrawing room, except...” Susanna’s expression clouded. “She mustn’t have made it. I heard someone yell. I thought it was Lady Dalhousie being dramatic about something as usual, but now I wonder if it was... if it was...” Susanna buried her face in her hands and sobbed.

  Katherine clasped her stepmother’s hand. “Thank you for telling me the truth. I am so, so sorry for your loss.”

  Susanna nodded, weeping openly. “Me too, Katherine. She was my dearest friend. Please, bring her justice. She deserves that much.”

  “I will,” Katherine whispered, her heart breaking. “I have only one more question. I’ve uncovered rumors that Lady Rochford might have had a lover. Do you know if those rumors have any merit?”

  Susanna’s eyes widened. “Celia? No, she was trying to conceive the baron’s heir! But…” Her lower lip trembled, and she bit into it.

  Katherine squeezed the distraught woman’s hand. “You’ve thought of something.”

  “A few months ago, I was searching for houses for sale around St. James’s Square—for you, dear. You’d have the garden to walk Emma, and I believe your monthly meeting takes place on Pall Mall Street, not far…”

  “It’s a wonderful idea,” Katherine said, mustering a warm smile. In fact, it was even more ideal than Susanna knew. Once Pru was married, she would reside mere blocks away.

  When she was in London.

  “What happened while you were near St. James’s Square?”

  Retracting her hand, Susanna leaned forward and used it to cover her face. It muffled her voice as she confessed, “I saw the Rochford coach around the corner from Norfolk House, on Charles Street. When I left my carriage behind to see if Celia was in and say hello, I saw her hurrying down the lane with her cheeks flushed and her hair a bit disheveled, I thought from the wind. But she refused to acknowledge me when I called out and jumped straightaway into her carriage and left before I reached it. She seemed… she seemed as though she might be avoiding me.”

  Susanna dissolved into fresh tears, and Katherine eased her arms around her stepmother’s shoulders, pulling her close once more. “I promise, I will find the person who did your friend harm. They will pay for the sorrow they’ve caused.”

  The murderer had taken two lives. As Katherine laid her hand over Susanna’s slightly rounded belly, she vowed that it would not be three.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Lyle yawned, slouching in his seat over the cup of tea Lorna had fixed for him. He looked as though he hadn’t slept a wink, despite it being near ten of the morning now.

  “I must beg your forgiveness for the way I parted with you yesterday.” Except for you, Katherine thought in Wayland’s direction. He stood by the window again, more interested in the street than in the information being imparted in the room. How early did she have to call a meeting in order to ensure that he did not attend? Did he live with Annandale now?

  Pru squeezed into the chair next to her fiancé, leaving the last free for Katherine, though she continued to stand. Annandale’s valet, as always, stood by his elbow, far more interested in this investigation than she would have expected.

  “I recognized the earring at once and went to chase down its owner and learn the truth of the matter.”

  Pru’s mouth dropped open. She squeezed her eyebrows together as she asked in a small voice, “Why wouldn’t you tell me?”

  Lyle sat straighter. “Yes, why? We’re your friends. You can trust us.”

  Katherine gave Wayland a lingering look, which he ignored. She glanced only briefly at McTavish and Annandale, newcomers to their circle. Although Pru trusted them with the details of the investigation, when it came to Katherine’s own family, she preferred to handle the matter herself. If it had only been her, Pru, and Lyle… She might not have said a word in any case. She still felt overwhelmed by the turn of the investigation.

  With Susanna’s explanation, she was confident that her stepmother hadn’t committed the crime. She would be able to corroborate it with Lord Bath, but also Susanna would not risk harm to the baby that a struggle in pushing someone off a balcony would certainly entail.

  However, that brought her no closer to solving the murder unless she was able to find Lady Rochford’s lover. That, as
it had nothing to do with her stepmother, she vowed to do with her friends in tow. After all, they were something of a team, now.

  “I am confident that the owner of the earring did not murder Lady Rochford. I have promised to hold her confidences, and therefore I must keep her identity to myself. However, she did impart some other pieces of information that might prove helpful.”

  Wayland turned away from the window for a moment. He raised one eyebrow askance. “You’re withholding information?” His voice dripped with disapproval.

  Katherine straightened her spine. “What do you care? You aren’t a part of this investigation. Unless, of course, you’ve changed your mind on that subject?” It wasn’t an invitation, precisely. Her words were more of a challenge.

  He didn’t rise to the bait. He shrugged. “Hardly. I’m only here because I have nothing better to do.”

  He was infuriating. Their investigation would be better off if he would only stop hanging about and do something.

  Gritting her teeth, she turned back to the others and attempted to ignore him. “I’ve learned that Lord Bath did not know Lady Rochford prior to Lady Dalhousie’s ice ball. He has been selling vials of healing waters to pregnant women, and that is why he was seen following our victim.”

  Lyle shifted in his seat, his expression one of bald interest as he set down his cup and saucer. He looked as though he might have guessed who the owner of the earring was, but he kept the information to himself. Let the others puzzle out the truth if they could.

  Katherine continued, “Lady Rochford was seen on Charles Street near the corner where it meets St. James’s Square near Norfolk House. From her suspicious demeanor and disheveled appearance, we can assume that her lover lives somewhere nearby.”

  “St. James’s Square is nae far from here,” Lord Annandale volunteered. “The day’s a mite cold, but I reckon we’ll warm up before long if we take the walk.”

  “And do what?” Pru asked with a laugh. “Knock on every door on Charles Street until a handsome man answers?”

  “I think not,” Annandale answered darkly.

  Katherine bit back a laugh. “We can ask if anyone has seen Lady Rochford. It might be better than doing nothing.”

  “Try Lord Conyers’s residence,” Wayland advised from the window in a bored voice.

  Lyle rolled his shoulders as he stood. “Lord Conyers? I didn’t know he lived in St. James’s Square.”

  Katherine gave Lyle a curious look. Did he presume to know where all the peers in London lived? Perhaps it was part of his job to know, as they likely didn’t care to have Bow Street Runners near their residences, for all that men of Lyle’s caliber made the streets of London far safer.

  Wayland answered, “He purchased a house on Charles Street some months back to conduct his trysts. You ought to know that being an engaged man wouldn’t stop someone of Conyers’s reputation.”

  “That’s deplorable,” Pru exclaimed. She looked at Lord Annandale as if for confirmation.

  “I have eyes only for you, love,” he answered her softly.

  Katherine tucked away a smile.

  Wayland shrugged as if he didn’t notice the brief heartfelt exchange. “If you ask me, Conyers is your best bet in that area. But if you don’t know it, perhaps I’d better come along to point out the house.”

  Katherine crossed her arms. “How do you know where Lord Conyers’s trysting house is? Has he invited you?”

  Wayland smirked. “He does throw parties there from time to time, but no. My interest in his doings extends no farther than eavesdropping. He’s particularly loud about his exploits while in the club.” He paused. “I expect that’s why I don’t foresee him remaining engaged for much longer. Last I heard, his future father-in-law caught wind of his doings and challenged him to a duel if he didn’t give them up. More gossip, of course.”

  Apparently, the men in London gossiped as much in their clubs as the women did at afternoon tea.

  “Very well,” Katherine said reluctantly. “Where does Lord Conyers keep his trysting house?

  Fifteen minutes later, Katherine strolled behind Wayland’s tall form, whose shadow fell over her and chilled her further as he led them to Lord Conyers’s house on Charles Street. Lord Annandale strode beside him reluctantly, given the looks he shot over his shoulder at Pru. Katherine tightened her hold on Pru’s arm, unwilling to give up her walking companion. She lowered her voice so only she and Lyle, on her other side, could hear her.

  “He might have told us the address rather than leading us all the way here.”

  Pru smiled slyly as she studied Katherine’s expression. “If you’re so adamant to be in the lead, you could have accepted Wayland’s offer of escort.”

  “I’d rather walk with you.”

  “And admire his form?”

  Katherine choked on her tongue. “No.”

  Lyle pretended not to hear the exchange, but the color flushing his cheeks gave him away. He walked with his head down, the brim of his hat pulled low, and his hands thrust into the pockets of his greatcoat.

  Pru, satisfied, shrugged. “If you say so. I know I’m admiring the view.”

  Katherine looked anywhere other than at Wayland. Even without directly looking at him, she was far too aware of the way his greatcoat stretched across his broad shoulders and fell to brush the backs of his calves. He moved with a lethal grace that must have been learned while in the military.

  “I never knew you so admired Captain Wayland,” she teased.

  A mistake. Pru’s happy mood, it seemed, could not be shaken. “Then you admit he’s worthy of admiration,” her friend countered, her eyes dancing with delight.

  Katherine certainly did not. Fortunately, she was saved from having to answer when a carriage hurried past. Wayland waited for it to depart before he gestured at the house opposite them.

  “There it is, Conyers’s house of debauchery.”

  “Is that what he called it?” Lyle drawled.

  Wayland took a step back alongside them and grinned. “Likely not, but it seemed as good a name as any.”

  Katherine gaped at the huge house on the corner of Charles Street and St. James’s Square. Why, it could rival Dorchester House. “If he’s hoping to be discreet, I believe he fell short of the mark.”

  With a laugh, Wayland pointed out the far smaller house, which was at least half the size, if not more, that shared a wall with the one on the corner. “His is Number 2 Charles Street. The livery is just behind us, if you’ve ever a need to stable your horses.”

  Did he know that Katherine was searching for a house near here? She didn’t answer him. In fact, she avoided looking at him altogether. Number 2 Charles Street was a modest dwelling for a lord, a mere four stories in height. The carved wooden door, unpainted, though it was thoroughly polished, was flanked by two evenly spaced windows.

  More windows continued all the the way to the roof of the house, where the windows of the servants’ quarters were squat little things half the height of the others. A chimney poked up one side of the house, where a remarkably narrow path presumably led down to a servants’ entrance or the backyard. The entire edifice had been painted a cheery yellow, recently enough that Katherine didn’t notice any signs of weathering from the unseasonable cold this autumn. The shutters were dark black, most pulled shut save for two on the upper levels. In short, it was a rather charming house. Not what she would have pictured for an adulterer.

  “Let’s see if he’s in,” Katherine said.

  Wayland squared his shoulders. “Why don’t I? It would be rather peculiar for a pair of women to call upon a man they don’t know.”

  Katherine rounded on him, arms akimbo. “Whatever do you mean by that? Don’t presume to tell me what I can and cannot do in the name of an investigation. I am every bit the detective that you are.”

  Eyes widening, Wayland held up his hands in surrender. He looked past her, likely at Lyle, as he sought an ally. He would certainly not find one in Pru.

&n
bsp; “I’ve always been open in my admiration of your detective skills, Lady Katherine. But didn’t you say that it is imperative no one become suspicious of the investigation? Two women calling upon Lord Conyers would be cause for suspicion.”

  Sard it, but he had a point! Katherine bit back an expletive and motioned with her hand. “Very well. Knock on the door, but take Lyle with you. He knows every detail of the investigation.”

  The side of Wayland’s mouth lifted in a smirk. “Have you been keeping something from me?”

  “I thought you weren’t interested in this investigation. If that’s the case, you must not have been listening as well as Lyle.” She turned to her friend. “Lyle, would you mind?”

  “Of course not,” he said, suddenly alert now that he had more to do than follow along. She shot him a grateful smile. Perhaps she ought to have used Lyle more for the investigation so far, but he had duties of his own to attend to, and she hadn’t wanted to overwhelm him.

  The two men strode across the street, both tall and lean, although Lyle’s shock of ginger hair drew attention to him as much as Wayland’s pronounced height—inches taller than even Lyle, who topped Katherine. Satisfied that they would accomplish their task if Lord Conyers was in residence, Katherine turned to her friend.

  She stopped short as she found Pru in the circle of Lord Annandale’s embrace. She must have gravitated toward him the moment Katherine released her arm. Katherine buried a pang at the sight, a reminder that she might very well lose her newfound friend. Although she and Pru had only grown close since August, these past few months had found them to be friends and allies. Pru had the same zeal for investigation that Katherine had, albeit she hadn’t grown up at the heels of a renowned detective.

  Katherine turned away as she suggested, “Perhaps we can try another door. One of the neighbors might have seen something that can help.”

  “Let’s try Number 3. A woman inside has been alternately staring at us and swishing the curtains closed for the past five minutes.”