Katherine narrowed her eyes. “Why not?”
“Mr. Gammon is due to arrive at any moment to catalogue his father’s belongings. He won’t be happy if he finds you in here. In fact, he’s already mentioned to me not to let you in, since he found you searching the study yesterday.”
Katherine wrinkled her nose. She wasn’t destined to get her answers today, after all. Stifling a sigh, she took a short step back out onto the stoop. “Thank you, in any case.”
As she turned to leave, Mrs. Campbell called, “My lady? If you’ll wait, come back after Mr. Gammon his left this evening. I’ll let you look around. But you must come in through the back door.”
Katherine smiled. “I’ll return later, then. Through the kitchen.”
As she returned to her house, the day looked suddenly brighter. She might find the answers for which she searched after all.
Chapter Eleven
Since Lord Penhurst’s exhibition began shortly before dinner, Katherine was not likely to return to the townhouse until after the meal. Although Harriet had promised to prepare a generous supper upon her return, Katherine had never been more relieved to find footmen in neat blue-and-white livery circulating Lord Penhurst’s drawing room with plates of food. Her stomach gurgled, a sound hopefully drowned by the guests chattering in knots.
Lord Penhurst’s quiet affair contained no less than twelve people already, and Katherine suspected that more were due to arrive before the exhibition began in earnest. After greeting the host, a hefty man in his forties with thick glasses and close-cropped hair, Katherine escaped into the room. The other guests, scholars, were absorbed with the artifacts on display at intervals around the perimeter of the room, their velvet-covered pedestals standing out from the wood-paneled walls.
Katherine navigated the mouth-watering aroma of cumin and coriander as she peered at the offerings on the tray. In keeping to the theme of this evening, Lord Penhurst’s cook had created a series of Egyptian-inspired dishes with what looked to be ground beef, lentils, and pastry. Although the foods were foreign to her palate, Katherine helped herself to one. It couldn’t be worse than the foods Harriet cooked.
In fact, it was delicious. Her eyes fluttered shut as she chewed. The moment she swallowed the mouthful, she chased the footman to the next knot of people and helped herself to another pastry. Then another, and another.
Where is Lady Dalhousie? If Katherine hadn’t had time to spare while she waited for dark to fall—and with it, the opportunity to enter Dr. Gammon’s house—she would have been irritated.
She examined a broken shard of painted pottery as she nibbled on another pastry. It was sweet rather than savory, filled with dates, honey, and almonds. How much blunt would it take to bribe Lord Penhurst’s cook away from him? Katherine suspected she would be worth the expense.
“If you don’t chew, I suspect you’ll choke.”
When Katherine glanced up into Miss Ball’s laughing gaze, she smiled sheepishly. She swallowed and fished out a handkerchief to dab at her mouth before addressing the young woman properly. “I find that if I keep my mouth full, no one will ask me my opinion of the items Lord Penhurst has on display.”
Miss Ball giggled, delicately opening a fan to cover the lower half of her face. “I hear there’s to be a dinner, too.”
Thank heavens! Katherine could use a hearty meal. “Where is your aunt?”
Miss Ball lowered her fan long enough to scour the gathering. “She must still be speaking with the host. She spent ages choosing just the right dress for this evening.”
Katherine smiled, but said nothing more. Lady Dalhousie was the type to want all attention on her—which had likely been why she’d arrived late. “Let’s speak of you. I need to learn more about you to properly match you to a gentleman.”
Learning more about Miss Ball felt like trying to unravel a knotted string. She spoke very little of herself, detailing the songs she had learned for the piano and other instruments in great length, but leaving her taste in her future husband’s disposition to the imagination. As Katherine battled the urge to stopper her ears, lest she hear more about sonatas and preludes, Lady Dalhousie approached on Lord Penhurst’s arm.
A footman knocked briskly at the door. “Dinner is served.”
Lord Penhurst removed himself from Lady Dalhousie’s grasp. “Excuse me, my lady.” He extended his hand to Katherine instead. “Lady Katherine, I believe I owe you the honor. How is your father?”
“Very well, thank you.” Had he invited no one of higher rank than an earl’s daughter? Perhaps Lady Dalhousie’s rank no longer signified, since her stepson had taken the title upon her husband’s passing, even if he hadn’t yet taken a wife to displace her as lady of the house.
Lady Dalhousie pulled Katherine back from accepting Lord Penhurst’s escort. “Penhurst, you cannot seat Lady Katherine at the head of the table! She is very partial to my niece, Genevieve. It would not do to separate them. No one else present is of an age with these two younglings.”
“Well, there is Mr.…”
Lady Dalhousie batted her eyelashes at the man, who was at least twenty years her junior.
Lord Penhurst cleared his throat. “If you would not take offense?”
Katherine heartily hoped that if she were to be seated next to Miss Ball, she would not have to listen to her aunt throughout the entire evening. She smiled grimly. “No offense taken, I promise.”
“Then if you’ll give me a moment, I’ll find you a suitable dinner partner.”
Katherine would have happily skipped to the dining room under her own power. Instead, she held herself still until Lord Penhurst returned with a cousin. The moment he did, Katherine urged her escort toward the dining room.
For such a small, intimate gathering, the commotion as everyone sought to claim favorable seats in the tidy dining room was chaotic. Katherine let her escort lead her to a chair squarely in the middle of the long table. Seating herself in front of the lavish place setting, she salivated as she stared at the row of covered dishes arranged in the center of the table in the French style.
One by one, the other ladies sat. Lady Dalhousie was assigned a spot diagonally to Katherine’s left; Miss Ball was diagonally to her right.
In between them, directly across from Katherine’s chair, Dr. Gammon’s son took a seat. Katherine gaped, momentarily speechless to find him at the gathering. If he was here, she could have been searching Dr. Gammon’s house at that very moment!
But wait, shouldn’t he be at home, in mourning? He wore black from head to foot, but aside from his aloof demeanor, he showed no visible signs of grief. The moment he recognized her, he narrowed his eyes. He focused on his wine glass rather than confront her in company.
As the dinner started to get underway, the guests chattered as they helped themselves to the scrumptious dishes uncovered by the staff. Katherine regained her faculties. Mr. Gammon would not be able to leave the table until the host bid everyone to do so. That meant he was entirely at her mercy. If she wanted answers from him, she would find no better time than the present. And now that they were in company, he certainly couldn’t act as rude as he had when he found her in his father’s study. She had him precisely where she wanted him.
As Katherine piled her plate high with food, she struck up a conversation. “Mr. Gammon, I’m quite astonished to see you here tonight. I would have expected you to be at home, given recent events.”
At his side, Lady Dalhousie wrinkled her nose. She looked from her dinner companion to Katherine and back again as she trailed her fingers along the glittering necklace at her throat. “Do you know each other?”
Mr. Gammon gave a tight smile. “Only in the barest of capacities, I assure you,” he mumbled under his breath. He directed the comment to his plate and lifted his fork to occupy himself.
Katherine wasn’t about to let him wriggle out from under her thumb so easily. “Oh yes. In fact, I was a friend of his father’s. His father, Dr. Gammon, lived only two houses a
way from my own. I’m afraid he died earlier this week.”
Miss Ball gasped, raising her napkin to her lips. “I’m terribly sorry for your loss, sir.”
She tilted her head toward Katherine, widening her eyes in a speaking look. It was the first time Katherine had seen her look anything but meek.
Mr. Gammon spared Miss Ball the barest of glances before stopping, turning back, and lingering over her with a frown. “Thank you, Miss…”
Katherine sighed inwardly. She waved her hand at his dinner companions. “To your…” She paused, reorienting herself in her head. “To your left is Lady Dalhousie, and to your right is her niece, Miss Ball. Ladies, this is Mr. James Gammon.”
Miss Ball cleared her throat. It would have been a delicate noise, if not for the urgent look she shot at Katherine.
Belatedly, Katherine amended, “Miss Ball is an accomplished musician.”
She blushed prettily, laying her napkin in her lap as she simpered. “Why, Lady Katherine, you flatter me.”
Had Katherine ever thought her modest? Perhaps it was all affected, and she was as shameless as her aunt.
Mr. Gammon inclined his head toward her, the picture of gentlemanly manners. “If she speaks truly, you must play for me at some time. What instruments do you play?”
“The piano. I’m also a fair hand wit—”
Miss Ball had mistaken Katherine’s attention to the gentleman in question. Somehow, she had gotten it into her head that Katherine meant to pair the two! Nothing could have been farther from the truth, not when Katherine suspected the man of murdering his father. Although she held Lord Westing’s daughter as a more likely suspect, she still had not discounted his son.
Pointedly, she said, “I didn’t see you in the parlor, Mr. Gammon, or I would have introduced my companions sooner. Truly, I didn’t expect to find you here tonight at all. I would have imagined you to be deep in mourning.”
The look he shot her contained not a sliver of gratitude for the sympathy in her voice. “I’m afraid I was a late arrival. I would have stayed home altogether, for my father’s sake, if I hadn’t accepted this invitation weeks ago. I could not leave my gracious host with an uneven number of guests.”
Considering that Katherine had been a very recent addition, they were already at an uneven number of guests. However, she didn’t get a word in edgewise as Miss Ball made a cooing sound more akin to a bird than a woman.
“How very brave of you, to honor your host in such a way. I must admit, it is my pleasure to have you.” Her cheeks deepened with color, and she patted her mouth with her napkin again, never mind that she had yet to take a bite off her plate. “To have you as my dinner partner, that is.”
Perhaps for the first time in her entire life, Lady Dalhousie did not contribute to the conversation, but oversaw it with the predatory gleam in her eyes.
Katherine tried to steer the conversation back to a place that would do her the most good. As she cut her meat, she adopted a casual mien. “Mr. Gammon’s father was a very well-liked physician. I believe he was even working with a partner to treat various peers.”
Lady Dalhousie frowned, no doubt recalling that Katherine had asked after Dr. Gammon only the evening before. Katherine took a bite, chewing and swallowing without tasting her meal. She prayed the old woman would not put together too many pieces of the puzzle. Better to keep her focus on her niece, instead, even if she wasted her efforts on a man like Mr. Gammon. Truthfully, Katherine would have expected her to have higher aspirations than the son of a physician.
Mr. Gammon nodded. “That is true.”
With a faint sigh, Miss Ball leaned closer. “What a fascinating profession. And yourself, Mr. Gammon? Or should I be calling you Dr. Gammon as well?”
Katherine hadn’t considered that the son might take after his father. But certainly, matters of such trades were often passed down from generation to generation. Why, then, had Dr. Gammon worked with Dr. Sumner rather than his own son? Unless he hadn’t trusted James as much as he pretended…
Mr. Gammon gave the woman on his right an affable smile. “I’m afraid my father’s education was wasted on me. I never had a head to memorize all the herbs and medicines he used. He was quite disappointed when I chose to become a surgeon to his physician.”
Lady Dalhousie’s eyes gleamed. She leaned forward, laying her hand on Mr. Gammon’s sleeve. “A surgeon, you say? You’re too modest. That is quite the commendable profession.”
Katherine fought back a grimace. This was not going according to plan at all.
Mr. Gammon continued his game of modesty as he surreptitiously reclaimed his arm. “I’m afraid it was a point of contention between my father and I. I might have a way with a scalpel and be handy if you ever require an amputation, but for any common ailment, my father was of far more use.”
In a dreamy voice, Miss Ball whispered, “You must have saved a great many lives.”
And perhaps taken one. Breaking into the conversation before they fawned over Mr. Gammon too much, Katherine asked, “Would that be why your father turned to another man in his partnership? I hear he worked closely with Dr. Sumner.”
Mr. Gammon nodded stiffly. “That is the case.”
When he said nothing more on the subject, Katherine prodded, “And do you think well of the gentleman?”
Mr. Gammon’s hesitation spoke volumes. “He and my father had their disagreements from time to time, but on the whole, I believe they worked well together. I did not speak very often with the gentleman in question, as he only came by to see my father on business.”
Lady Dalhousie tsked under her breath. “It is a terrible thing when a man only has a mind for business.”
Mr. Gammon answered, “Business must have its place, my lady, but I believe it should also be balanced with family and friends.”
He could not have said a more winsome thing. The faces of the ladies on either side of him brightened.
Lady Dalhousie pressed, “And you, Mr. Gammon? Do you find a lot of time for your family, for your wife?”
He deftly cut his meat as he answered. “I have no wife at present. But when I do, I will certainly make time for her.”
This conversation had turned so far afield that Katherine felt as though she were sitting in a different country. Somehow, she seemed to have been cut out of it altogether. Lord Penhurst’s cousin, who had escorted her to the table, leaned closer and commented, “The asparagus is particularly divine, wouldn’t you say, Lady Katherine?”
“I have yet to try it, but I will upon your suggestion.”
“Allow me.” He reached for the dish and held it for her as she shoveled half its contents onto her plate. She wasn’t paying the least bit of attention to him, nor the frown he wore when he returned the plate to the table.
As she started to slice the vegetable, she cut into the progressing conversation across from her. “You claim Dr. Sumner only visited your father on business, but he told me mere days ago that Dr. Sumner still visited him. Unless you think they still have business? I believe they worked together not a year ago on Lord Westing’s ailments. The late Lord Westing, I mean.”
With a frown, Lord Penhurst’s cousin said, “Isn’t this morose conversation for the dinner table?”
She gritted her teeth. If she had been more familiar with the man, she might have surrendered to the urge to elbow him in the ribs. Couldn’t he see that she didn’t care to talk to him?
Mr. Gammon’s face had hardened as well. “Quite.” He took a bite, chewing vigorously and postponing any further conversation.
But Katherine didn’t have her answers, and until she did, she would not relent. As she chewed the asparagus, which was indeed delicious, she tried to think of another way to introduce the question she so desperately needed answered.
Would Dr. Sumner have killed Dr. Gammon? Did one or the other mistakenly kill Lord Westing—or was it intentional? Not on Dr. Gammon’s part, to be sure, but on that of his partner… And what role did Mr. Gammon pl
ay in all of this?
As a pall descended on the conversation, the tension mounted. Under his breath, Mr. Gammon said uncharitably, “I believe if you asked the current Lord Westing, he will tell you that it all worked out favorably. And I assure you, if Dr. Sumner was visiting my father, I have no idea why. I only wish that I had visited him more often than I did.”
Katherine frowned. “But you visited him every week.”
Mr. Gammon’s hands stilled, and he laid down his knife. “Now that he’s no longer with me, you have to forgive me if I now feel that once a week was not nearly enough time.” The grief that she hadn’t seen on his face or in his demeanor was thick in his voice.
Gently, Miss Ball laid her gloved hand atop his. “I’m sure he was a well-liked man who will be sorely missed.”
Hearing that shred of grief in Mr. Gammon’s voice, Katherine couldn’t bring herself to press on. It too closely mirrored the dark emotion she’d been trying to hold at bay ever since finding her friend dead in his study. She applied herself to her meal, ignoring her dinner partner who seemed to have moved his attention to the woman on his right. If nothing else, Katherine had gotten some answers out of Mr. Gammon tonight. The new Lord Westing, after all, had gained much at his predecessor’s death. And if Dr. Gammon and his partner had been at odds previously… Katherine had other suspects to pursue.
Chapter Twelve
Upon eating her fill at dinner, Katherine excused herself early from Lord Penhurst’s exhibition and returned home despite Lady Dalhousie’s protests. She left Mr. Gammon at the event, secure that he would be well occupied. The moment she entered her house, Emma barked out a greeting from a different room.
Katherine followed the noise to the front parlor, where Harriet sat in the armchair, mending the bottom of one of Katherine’s dresses. At Katherine’s entrance, she glanced up in alarm.
“Lady Katherine, what are you doing home so soon? I haven’t prepared anything to eat.”
Murder on Charles Street (Lady Katherine Regency Mysteries Book 5) Page 10
