Chapter 16 #2
The four of them trudged down the stairs, with Miss Mahoney leading the way. Her sister’s hand clasped in hers, they walked side by side.
When the four of them stepped into the drawing room, Miss Mahoney refused to release her sister. They sat on the settee, still holding hands.
After a tense, silent moment, Mrs. Devlin began.
“The first thing I would like to say is that you may not believe what I am about to tell you.
Because of the things I've done. Because of the person I have become. But I swear it is the truth.” She offered her sister a sad smile.
“My sister knows all the details now, and I am willing to put it in writing and attest to it as well.”
“I will most likely have you do that, Mrs. Devlin,” Gideon said, and it indicated to Electra that he expected a confession.
“Might we start with how you are acquainted with Percival Pennington?”
“I met him at my sister's salon.” She reached up and pulled her hair into a knot and kept her head held high.
“You were hoping for an arrangement with him?” Gideon asked.
“I was hoping for one with someone, and he had a certain charm about him. At least at the start. But then he seemed to lose interest, and the next time he came, he brought his brother.”
“Mr. Lancelot Pennington,” Gideon supplied.
She pressed her lips together and seemed to fight for composure at mention of the man’s name.
“Yes, and he was more than charming. He was very handsome and treated me in a way that gentlemen rarely do, particularly in those circumstances.”
“He developed feelings for you, and did you for him?” Gideon asked. He still maintained a soft, sympathetic manner, as if he feared Mrs. Devlin might bound from the room if he pushed too hard.
“Yes, I will admit that.”
“And you no longer felt that way about Mr. Percival Pennington?”
“They are very different men, Inspector. Lance was kind to me, almost doting. I said that Percival lost interest, but that is not entirely true. I realized that he was not a candidate to become my protector, but Percival wanted my company in an…intimate way, but without feelings of any sort.”
She closed her eyes for a minute, and Miss Mahoney reached her free hand so that she was clasping her sister’s hand with both of hers.
“He paid me for those encounters. Individually.” She snuck a glance at Miss Mahoney. “It was not something my sister would have allowed, and so I kept the truth of those encounters from her.”
“Did Lance Pennington know?”
“No. He only knew that he did he not have the funds to offer me any of the benefits I was hoping to obtain by finding a protector.”
“But he offered something else,” Electra said, sensing that her feelings for the younger Pennington were at the heart of her suffering.
“He fell in love with me. Other men said such things, but I knew that Lance felt them. Deeply. It was gratifying to know someone admired me, but he could not give me the kind of future I needed. More than anything, I yearn for security.” She blinked away tears.
“Poverty takes that away from you, so that you never feel secure. I live in constant fear of the workhouse.”
Miss Mahoney leaned closer to her sister. “I told you not to worry. I told you I would take care of you.”
Mrs. Devlin smiled, but it faded quickly. “Yes, of course you did. But after being a married woman and having some measure of independence, I wanted that again.”
“Why not simply marry again?” Gideon asked.
Electra thought it a reasonable question. Mrs. Devlin was beautiful and still quite young. But she knew there were myriad reasons a woman might not wish to marry.
“My husband was not a terribly kind man. In fact, he was sometimes cruel.” She fixed her gaze on Electra. “I was only partially truthful when I spoke to you, Miss Poole. He never made any provision for me, but he died a year ago, not two months ago.”
She did not apologize outright, but there was a bit of sadness, perhaps regret, in her eyes.
“Something about being a man's paramour seemed the perfect solution. I would have freedom. Money. A roof over my head. And yet not have to contend with a cruel husband or the other drudgeries of being a wife.”
“But Percival Pennington did not offer you that?” Electra asked.
“I thought he might at one point. He spoke of it. We even discussed the terms, but then he became…infatuated with another. A lady he wanted to marry, though she was already married.”
Electra’s muscles tensed, recalling the day Mrs. Devlin had arrived at Cordelia’s. “And when did you discover who that lady was?”
Mrs. Devlin met her gaze squarely, as if she was recalling their first encounter too. “I learned of her from a man named Roderick Beecham. His daughter had been engaged to Pennington. He accosted me in the park and said quite horrible things about Percival, though none of them surprised me.”
“What made you disguise yourself and go to Lady Redmayne’s home under false pretenses?” Gideon asked, his voice suddenly less gentle.
Mrs. Devlin bit her lip and cast her gaze at the unlit fire grate. “I can hardly credit my actions now. But at the time, hearing about this other lady who had captured Percival’s attention, I felt such savage jealousy.”
She looked back at them and tucked a long, loose curl of auburn hair behind her ear.
“Which was strange because I had not given my heart to Percival, yet I have always been too curious for my own good. I wanted to see the lady for myself, or at least the way she lived, in an elegant townhouse in a fine London square.”
“And how did you know to find her through me?” Electra asked.
Mrs. Devlin met her gaze again. “I have known one noblewoman in my life. I met her as part of a ladies’ charity. A Miss Ellsworth.”
A chill settled on Electra’s shoulders. She had met Miss Ellsworth during the course of the Lady Becknell investigation the previous year.
“I thought she might know Lady Redmayne and considered asking for an introduction. But as she spoke of her, she mentioned you, Miss Poole. Your gifts quite fascinated her. And she mentioned that you resided with Lady Redmayne at Russell Square.”
Mrs. Devlin lifted her free hand and nervously ran her fingers along the seam of her bodice. “I feared speaking to Lady Redmayne directly. Not fear of her, mind you. But of him. Of Percival. He was a man of stormy moods. Yet that wasn’t enough to keep me from wanting to learn more about her.”
“So, you wrote to me.”
“Forgive me for the subterfuge, Miss Poole, but yes. I wrote to you, arranged the time, and went. Looking back, it does not make much sense to me. But at the time, my curiosity was insatiable. And I suppose my resentment as well. I had hoped Percival would offer me the kind of life I craved.”
Gideon shifted his chair and made a sound of consternation. “So, you did all this because you were curious about the lady who’d captured the affections of a man you say you felt no real affection for?”
Electra felt it then. That same ripple of unease she had sensed the moment Demeter Devlin walked into Cordelia’s drawing room. Was it deceit she was sensing?
“Did you hope to blackmail him?” Gideon asked matter-of-factly.
Eleanor Mahoney gasped. Her sister's eyes narrowed. But then she breathed deeply, seeming to steel herself.
“The thought did cross my mind, Inspector.” She sniffed after the admission.
Miss Mahoney pulled a handkerchief from her pocket and offered it to her sister. Mrs. Devlin waved it away.
“Percival was a wealthy man, set to become more so if he married Miss Beecham. Lady Redmayne seemed the wrench in the works, if you will. But I knew he would wish to protect her.”
“So, when you left the Redmaynes’, where did you go?” Gideon asked. “To seek out Pennington and threaten him?”
Mrs. Devlin blinked as if surprised by the sharpness of his tone and pointedness of the question.
“To my lodgings on Regent Square for a while,” she said pertly, “but I simply stewed in my frustration and jealousy. Not of Percival’s affections, but of Lady Redmayne’s wealth. Her lovely home.”
“And then what did you do?” Gideon hadn’t written much in his notepad. He kept his attention focused entirely on Mrs. Devlin’s face, watching, no doubt, for emotions that did not match her claims.
“I sought out Percival at his club, the one place I knew he would never wish to see me.” A bitter laugh escaped. “They would not admit me, of course, but he came out to meet me. He was angry, as I knew he would be. Even that thrilled me somehow.”
She shook her head. “It was a kind of madness. I felt he had used me poorly, yet what I did with him, I did of my own accord for the money he gave me. I never refused him.”
“What happened during that encounter?” Electra asked.
“He tossed me into a carriage, got in beside me, and we argued all the way to Mount Street. By the time we arrived, I showed him your card, Miss Poole. I wanted him to know how close I had gotten to his secret paramour. I hadn’t intended to give it to him, but he snatched it from my hand.”
“Lady Redmayne was no longer his paramour.” Electra knew it was not the time to rush to Cordelia’s defense, but she could not stop herself.
Demeter Devlin smiled. “But that changed nothing as far as Percival was concerned, did it? He still pursued her. And he would still wish to protect her.”
“So you threatened to blackmail him?”
Mrs. Devlin scoffed. Tears began to slip down her cheeks.
Electra didn’t know if they were for herself, Pennington, or what had happened between them.
“I thought I had the upper hand, but he threatened me. The moment I mentioned exposing Lady Redmayne’s affair with him.” She swiped at her tears. “He shouted and I cowered. Just as I had with Phineas.”
A rasping laugh burst out of her. “I went there to confront him, and minutes later, I was desperate to get away from him.”
She drew in a shuddering breath. “He looked at me, his eyes on my throat, like he wanted to choke the life out of me.”