Chapter Five
Mary was glad when Bright decided to conduct interviews from a small sitting room on the annex side of the manor house. It was tucked away on the ground floor and well away from foot traffic by most of the guests. Additionally, there was no lingering scent of blood in the air or the knowledge that there had recently been a murder in the room.
At the door, the butler cleared his throat. “Inspector Bright, Robert Rightenour is here as you requested.”
“Thank you, Billings. In a half hour, please send me…” He consulted a handwritten list Lord Titterford had brought him moments ago. “The Wilson sisters, as well as Mr. Quentin Forsythe.”
Though her husband also rattled off a few other names, Mary had stopped listening, for the whole of her attention rested on the new man in the room—Robert Rightenour, the man whose twin brother had been murdered .
Perhaps a few inches shorter than six feet, the man’s blond hair had been arranged into a popular style. No doubt he’d had his valet attend to him after the outburst following the news that his brother had died. The knot of his cravat had been loosened and the buttons of his jacket undone. Lines of sadness were on his face and reflected in his rich brown eyes.
“Good afternoon, Mrs. Bright. Inspector,” he said as he dropped into a chair with delicate legs as if his knees would no longer support his weight. “Thank you for looking into whoever killed my brother.” The words were hushed, forced as if from a tight throat.
“We could do no less, Mr. Rightenour.” Mary offered a small smile from her place in a matching chair across the grouping of furniture from him. “I am sorry for your loss.”
The younger man nodded while Bright watched from behind a highbacked sofa. “I can’t believe Edwin is gone.”
“You must have been close being twins,” she said as she flipped to a new page in her notebook. “I can’t imagine your loss.”
Robert nodded. “I feel empty and shocked.” He shook his head.
Softly, Gabriel cleared his throat. “Tell us about your relationship with your brother.”
“We had been close since we were born, obviously. Being a twin is a different sort of experience, I think. There was never a time when he wasn’t there.” Robert stared at a book that rested on the low table. “However, something changed with Edwin when I married.”
“How so?” Mary frowned, for she didn’t want to know in the event it further damned Priscilla. “Can you give us a specific?”
He sighed. “When I married Juliet three years ago, Edwin changed. He was jealous that my time was split between him and my wife, and to be honest, the family assumed he would marry Priscilla.”
Mary glanced at her husband, who gave her a slight nod. “Were Edwin and Priscilla close?”
“Of course.” Robert nodded and seemed more animated than before. “They’d had a tryst years ago, but for whatever reason, it never went further than that. Perhaps he didn’t wish to compete with the piano for her affections.”
“He never told you?”
“No.” The blond man shook his head. “After my marriage, our relationship was a bit strained.” His Adam’s apple bobbed with a hard swallow. “His attitude was one of the problems, though, and that soured many people on him.”
Interesting. Mary scribbled a few notes. “How so?”
“He became a different person. Edwin was a creature of much carelessness, as if he were too busy or important to be bothered by something as pedestrian as clothing.” While he talked, the young man twisted a signet ring on his left pinky finger. Made of gold, it featured a sword lying across a severed snake, with a tiny ruby for the snake’s visible eye. “As a result, he always seemed turned out as if he’d dressed at the last second. He worked at being a rake and a cad. Didn’t care about anything except making a sensation.”
Gabriel came around the sofa to perch on one of its arms. “Is it true that your father is dying?”
“Yes.” The word sounded so frightened that she could easily see him as the young boy he might have been years ago. “His physician says it’s some sort of cancer of the stomach. Coughing up blood now and so weak.” Robert shook his head. “I don’t guess he’s long for this world, but my wife and I stop by to visit every day since he’s in London.”
“I’m so sorry, Mr. Rightenour,” Mary murmured. “This isn’t the sort of news your father needs right now.”
“No, and now I’m the damned heir apparent.”
One of Bright’s eyebrows rose. “That is unsavory to you?”
“Not at all.” His voice broke. “I always wanted to be Papa’s heir, but since I was two minutes younger than Edwin, that was never possible. Everyone in the family knew his scandalous ways would drag the title through the proverbial mud. Hell, he couldn’t even bring himself to visit our father except perhaps once a month, even though he’ll die soon.” He briefly buried his face in his hands before shoving them through his hair. “I have ideas for the title, but my efforts were largely ignored because I wasn’t the heir.”
Mary exchanged a glance with Bright. That was a large motive, and they had worked cases where people had been killed for less. “Where were you three, possibly four hours ago?”
Shock jumped into his expression. “You think I killed my brother?” He shot to his feet. “He was my flesh and blood!”
“Calm yourself, Mr. Rightenour,” Bright said as he pushed off the sofa arm and went over to place his body between the young man and her. “The lady simply asked you a question, and it would be in your best interests to answer it with as much decorum as you can.”
Seeing her husband in profile, with the sharp cut of his rugged jaw and that thick brown hair he and his valet could never quite tame had her heartbeat accelerating. Even in this, he would protect her. She eased her gaze to Robert, and the moisture in his eyes seemed genuine.
“I apologize,” he said as he glanced at her. Then, to Bright, he said, “I was in the library, trying to calm my nerves. Edwin and I had argued earlier in the morning.”
“Over?”
The young man waved a hand. “One of his scandals, or what would be a scandal.”
“Meaning?”
“Meaning that my brother had an unhealthy obsession with your son’s fiancée. I gave him a dressing down in the hopes he would stop the nonsense.”
“Where did your brother go while you went to cool down in the library?”
Robert shrugged. “No doubt to plead his case with Miss Davenport.” He blew out a breath. “Perhaps it’s for the best that Edwin is gone. He would have grown into an embarrassment, if he wasn’t already.”
“One last question. Do you know of anyone who might wish to harm your brother or even kill him?”
“Ha.” Robert shook his head. “Everyone had cause to hate Edwin; he wasn’t a good man, but you might talk with our uncle or even his best friend Quentin.”
Quickly scribbling in her notebook, Mary nodded. “Thank you, Mr. Rightenour. Again, we are so sorry for your loss, and don’t wait too long to return to London and be with your father.”
Bright offered his condolences as well. “If we should have further questions, we will call for you again.” Once the young man cleared the room, Gabriel turned to her. “What do you think? He has a strong motive, and by his own admission, he fought with his brother earlier in the day.”
“Well, his emotions regarding Edwin’s death are real, but then, so could jealousy or the sense of familial protection.” She turned to a new page in her notebook. “More concerning is the thought that Priscilla is repeatedly going to the top of the suspect list, and we haven’t even interviewed her yet.”
“I know.” Bright shook his head. “It doesn’t bode well, but we shall crack on until we ferret out the truth.”
For the next hour, they interviewed house party guests who didn’t truly know Edwin outside of a knowledge of him in the ton or hadn’t been formally introduced to him before the wedding celebrations.
Mary dutifully recorded those names on the list of people who were not suspects.
Then three young ladies entered the room—the Wilson sisters.
Immediately upon seeing Gabriel, they tittered, and Mary was hard-pressed to bite back a grin, for her husband had that effect on ladies of all ages and all classes. She didn’t begrudge him the attention, but it was amusing to watch how he fielded the flirting.
After the trio with light brown hair and matching pastel pink tea gowns seated themselves on a sofa that matched the one Mary sat upon, she gave them all a welcoming smile. “Good afternoon, ladies. Could you please state your names and why you were extended an invitation to this house party?”
“I’m Beatrice,” said the oldest of the three.
“I’m Betsy,” said the youngest.
“And I’m Belinda,” said the middle one. Out of all of them, she seemed to be the most level-headed, for while the other two kept stealing glances at Bright and fluttering their lashes, this one sat calmly with her hands clasped in her lap. “We are friends of Miss Davenport, went to finishing school with her, so she invited us to her wedding festivities.”
The youngest lady flashed a wide smile at Bright. “Imagine being at a house party at the same time as the famous Inspector Bright,” Betsy enthused as she looked him up and down with a very appreciative gaze. “Will you entertain us with some stories about your cases?”
“That is not the purpose of this time just now.” He cleared his throat and turned to a fresh page of his notebook. “None of you ever spent time alone with Mr. Rightenour?”
All three Wilson sisters shook their heads.
It was Belinda who spoke. “Of course we would never find ourselves alone with a rake like him.” She focused her gaze on Mary. “Everyone knew about Mr. Rightenour’s reputation, and we also know he wasn’t the marrying kind.” With a glance that encompassed both of her sisters, she sighed. “Oh, he was handsome as sin, and he could charm any lady that he wanted, but there was always something about him that didn’t ring true.”
Mary frowned. “Like how? What made you think that?”
Belinda shrugged. “There was a certain sadness in his eyes, as if none of the ladies he spent time with could make him happy. Everything he did seemed empty, like he was constantly holding out hope that someone else would come along.”
“So he was waiting for a lady who never came?” That didn’t bode well for Priscilla.
“Oh yes.” Betsy nodded. “Gossip says that he was pining for Miss Davenport, and that he turned into a snapping, snarling beast when she announced her engagement to Mr. Bright.”
Mary exchanged a glance with her husband.
Bright heaved a sigh. “Did he ever treat any lady with less than respect, at least while in public and society?”
This time it was Beatrice who shook her head. “He was careful not to show any sort of emotion unless it was flirting or charm. I always had the feeling he wished to make a good impression on everyone.”
He nodded. “Did Mr. Rightenour have an argument with anyone during the house party?”
All three sisters glanced at each other. Belinda was the unelected one to answer the question.
“We overheard him having a yelling match with the younger Mr. Bright, but he’d also had quite a fight with Mr. Quentin Forsythe.”
Mary’s eyebrows rose. “What about?”
Belinda shook her head. “I wouldn’t know, but I heard something about a knife. I don’t know if one of them was threatening the other or what. Every time we heard raised voices, we hurried away to our next destination or event.”
“And he was forever having disagreements with his brother,” Betsy said with a decided nod. “I don’t really believe Edwin was truly happy with anyone, even himself.”
Beatrice nodded. “And he was to be a viscount soon. That’s perhaps the saddest part of all.”
Bright apparently choked while swallowing, then he spent several seconds recovering by coughing. “So holding a title is more important than being a good person?”
“Of course not.” Belinda smiled as she gazed up him. “It is just there is a decided lack of eligible men in London society, let alone ones who hold a title or even have a family fortune. You can’t blame my sisters or I for wanting to make our situations better.”
“There is some truth in that.” Bright wrote a note. “In your opinion, do you know of anyone who held a particular grudge against Edwin Rightenour?”
All three ladies looked at each other and one by one, they shook their heads.
“We mostly keep busy with groups of ladies and the activities Lady Titterford has planned around the wedding.” Belinda heaved another sigh. “I don’t suppose there will be a wedding tomorrow morning?”
Mary pressed her lips together. “I believe it will be postponed a few days until we can further investigate the members of the house party.”
“Oh.” Belinda frowned, and her sisters seemed far too crestfallen.
Bright cleared his throat again. “Thank you for your time, ladies. I don’t believe I’ll need to question you again, so you have full permission to stroll the gardens and hedge maze or go into the nearest village for shopping the remainder of the house party.”
As they stood, the youngest offered her hand to Bright.
A blush stained Betsy’s cheeks. “If you should ever wish for company, Inspector, please come and find me.”
Though Gabriel lifted her hand to his lips and briefly kissed the back, he winked at Mary. “While that is a lovely invitation, I am a happily married man, and I expect I’ll remain that way for many years to come.”
With more than a few titters and lingering glances, the Wilson sisters left the room.
“It seems you’ve accumulated three more hopefuls,” Mary said with heavy sarcasm in her voice. “But then, isn’t that always the way it is with you?”
He briefly rolled his eyes to the ceiling. “I don’t appreciate your tart mouth, well at least not here,” he responded with a wink. “Can I help it if women adore me? If more men treated them as I do, we wouldn’t have this issue.”
“That is quite true.” With a bit of heat in her own cheeks, Mary smiled. Truly, he was a man among men. “At least we’ve crossed a handful of people off the suspect list. That helps.”
“It does, but it also leaves us with far too many suspects.” He heaved out a breath of frustration. “Who is next?”
“I think it’s a Mr. Quentin Forsythe,” she said as she checked her notes.
“Did someone say my name?” The new arrival paused in the doorway ahead of the butler, then came into the room with a hand outstretched to Gabriel. “Hullo. I am Quentin Forsythe. Billings said you wished to interrogate me.”
“I do.” After Bright shook the man’s offered hand, he invited him to make himself comfortable. “How do you know the victim?”
“I was his best friend.” A trace of sadness went through the man’s expression. “Truth be told, though, I can’t say that I’m surprised someone killed him. Edwin wasn’t a good man.”
Mary glanced at Bright with a frown. “That is an odd thing to say about your best friend. Why do you think that?”
“Well, when we were in university, we behaved like nodcocks, did scandalous things to each other and our friends, but Edwin had the uncanny knack of making decisions that would harm all of us; he also thought nothing of blaming others for his indiscretions.”
Bright narrowed his eyes. “Did that happen to you?”
“It happened to all of us. In fact, I believe I saw the Earl of Kendrick hanging about young Mr. Bright. They are contemporaries, but he was also a good friend of the deceased.” Mr. Forsythe nodded then lowered his voice as if he were about to impart a secret. “In fact, the newly minted earl has more stories to tell about Edwin than I do, especially about competing for the ladies. Unfortunately for Kendrick, he always played fair, where Edwin did not.”
Mary tapped her chin with the end of her pencil. “Did Mr. Rightenour ever do something underhanded to you that might make you want revenge upon him?”
“Perhaps, but then, we were young men at the time. I have found peace in forgiving him for those things.” He rubbed his eyes with his fingers. “And now I don’t have my best friend any longer because someone held feelings of anger against him!” The sound of sobbing issued from the man as he buried his head in his hands. “Why did this have to happen?”
Mary laid a hand on his arm. “I am so sorry for your loss. When was the last time you’d seen Edwin?”
“I don’t know.” The man shrugged but picked up his head and glanced at her. “Perhaps this morning? We went for a ride, since that is what we usually did while in London.” Suddenly, he bounded to his feet, went to where Gabriel stood, and fell to his knees. “Please, please, Inspector Bright, please do whatever is necessary to find out who killed my friend. Even if you discover it was a member of the gentler sex who did this crime.”
Surprise reflected on Bright’s face as he glanced at her. “Why do you say that?” He put a hand beneath Mr. Forsythe’s arm and then helped him into a standing position.
“Plenty of women had reputations ruined by Edwin, or at the very least, promises broken, even the married ones.” Then his face crumpled again into despair. “Find this person, Inspector.” His voice broke. “Might I go? I need some time to myself for a bit.”
Bright wave a hand. “Go, but don’t leave the property in the event we have more questions. ”
“Of course. I’m eager to help in any way I can.”
Silence reigned in the room after the man left.
“Good heavens.” After putting her pencil into her notebook, she laid it on the sofa and then stood. “I had no idea Edwin Rightenour was such an unpleasant man.”
“And now he’s dead. That’s not an excuse, of course, but I’m of a mind that sooner or later, unpleasant people will reap what they’ve sowed.” With a quick glance to the door, Gabriel met her in the middle of the room and slipped his arms around her. “I would much rather spend the time between tea and dinner doing something truly pleasant to you instead of interviewing potential suspects.”
“That sounds like a rather lovely way to pass the time,” she whispered as she slipped her hands up his chest to lock her hands loosely behind his neck. “I adore when you are playful.”
“Mmm.” The second he dipped his head and fit his lips to hers, a shiver of need went down Mary’s spine.
Oh, to have him all to herself for an hour! With enthusiasm, she kissed him back, and each time he moved over her mouth, she wanted nothing more than to drag him from the room, lock him away, and do wicked things to him. But she contented herself with this embrace, for she didn’t know when she would have such an opportunity again.
Just when things were about to go into interesting territory, the clearing of a masculine throat at the door broke them apart.
Mary blew out a breath when she spied the butler standing there, so she turned away to compose herself and pat loose tendrils of her hair back into place.
“What is it, Billings?” Gabriel asked with a hint of annoyance in his voice.
“The next two members of the house party are here and ready for you to interview them.”
“Very well. Send them in.” He glanced at her as she settled once more onto the sofa she’d abandoned earlier. “Thwarted again.”
“So it seems. After this, I’m going to check on the children. Perhaps there will be time for other things after dinner.” Such were the difficulties of being a married couple with children… as well as a married couple who had an affinity for investigating murder.