Chapter Fourteen
Sometime after tea
Boddingford House
St. James Place
Mayfair, London
Mary frowned at the fact they were once again at Boddingford’s residence.
Mirrors and paintings had been draped with black crepe, and there was more of a somber atmosphere than there had been before.
The duchess refused to see them as did Lady Amelia, and they’d left the townhouse shortly after she and Bright had arrived, regardless.
Heaven only knew why, for they were supposed to be in mourning, which didn’t necessitate much visiting.
Yet Mary didn’t wish to judge, for she rather doubted there was much mourning for such a rotten man.
Consequently, they were once more shown into the downstairs parlor to await the arrival of the groom who had been named as Viscount Tifton’s lover.
“I’m sorry your visit to Whitehall ended on less than savory terms,” she whispered to Bright as he paced the length of the room.
Her husband grunted. “I understand that the chief inspector is under pressure. He passed that on to me, for the murder of any peer, let alone a duke, is quite newsworthy. The yelling was unnecessary, however.”
Of course he’d told her of the aftermath regarding that meeting in the carriage on the way over here, and she’d been properly supportive, but the truth of the matter was that there was no joy or satisfaction in digging through this case, for the duke wasn’t well liked or even respected.
Would anyone care when they discovered who killed him? Would it make a difference?
A few minutes later, the groom appeared, standing clearly ill-at-ease in the doorway. Of average height, build, and coloring, there was nothing remarkable about the man other than his brilliant blue eyes.
“Uh, Inspector Bright?”
“Yes, and you must be Mr. Brown.”
The groom nodded. Perhaps in his mid-twenties, he took another few steps into the room and took his slouch-style cap in hand. “Call me Robert. Cravitts said you wanted to see me.”
“I do.” He gestured to Mary. “This is my wife and investigative partner, Mrs. Bright. We’d like to speak with you regarding your clandestine relationship with Viscount Tifton.”
Heavy silence followed the statement.
The younger man’s Adam’s apple bobbed with a hard swallow. “How did you know about that? Did Tifton tell you?”
“It doesn’t matter how we discovered the relationship,” Bright said with slightly narrowed eyes. “How long have you been together?”
“A couple of years. I thought we had been careful at keeping it a secret.” With a frown, Robert darted his gaze between them. “Will you turn me in to the authorities?”
It was a real fear, for indulging in such things were quite illegal.
“No.” Bright shook his head. “I have no interest in that. I’m merely looking into the deaths of Mr. Corbett as well as His Grace.”
“I had nothing to do with that.”
Before her husband could respond, for she could see from the stress in his expression that he was beginning to unravel, Mary softly cleared her throat. “Perhaps not, but surely you must know of the duke’s attitude toward his son having a relationship with you?”
“Of course. Everyone did.”
She nodded. “What happened when the viscount tried to follow his father’s dictate to court women with marriage in mind?”
“To be honest, I wasn’t happy about it.” Robert kept his gaze firmly on the floor, making it obvious that the viscount must have been the more dominant one in the relationship.
“We were happy together, you know?” When he met her gaze, sorrow shadowed his eyes.
“But when he came ‘round a few months ago and told me he was courting a young woman vastly unsuited for his position, I’m afraid I didn’t take it well. ”
She jotted a few notes. “Why was that?”
“Why do you think, Mrs. Bright?” A certain sharpness had entered the groom’s voice. “Of course I wanted Tifton for myself. There was no way we could have legally been together, but still, the feelings were there.”
Bright frowned. “Did anyone else in the family besides His Grace know about your relationship with the viscount?”
“There is only person I thought that knew. In fact, Mr. Corbett nearly caught us together one night in the butler’s pantry.”
One of Bright’s eyebrows rose. “What happened?”
Robert shrugged. “Nothing. We all made eye contact. I left the room but didn’t leave the house. Instead, I lingered in the corridor while the men talked. He said Mr. Corbett was sympathetic to our cause.”
“Did Tifton confide in Mr. Corbett?”
“He did.” The groom nodded. “I listened from the corridor, and I probably shouldn’t have because what I heard wasn’t flattering for anyone involved.”
That brought Mary’s head up. “What do you mean?”
“Well, Tifton told Mr. Corbett that eventually he would follow his father’s dictates, for that was what he’d always known would happen with his life.
When Mr. Corbett asked him about his courtship of Miss Swanson, Tifton said, he was only doing it to see if he could coax her into his bed, and then after he claimed her, he would move on to a woman more suited. ”
Both she and Bright uttered exclamations of protest.
“How dare the man use her like that!” Mary pressed the tip of her pencil to the paper so hard it nearly snapped.
“I should call him out myself,” Bright said as one of his hands curled into a fist.
“Easy, Inspector,” Mary said with the shake of her head. “It’s not worth being upset.” Then she rested her gaze on the groom while trying to compose herself. “What else did the viscount say?”
“When Mr. Corbett asked him directly about his relationship with me, Tifton responded in kind. He said it wasn’t serious either, and that he’d only gotten together with me as a lark to pass the time, because a fuck was a fuck, and if I was going to be easy about it, at least I wouldn’t fall pregnant. ”
Shock went over Bright’s face as he stared. “And that is why you were annoyed with them both?”
“Wouldn’t you be?” When there was no answer, he sighed. “I know I shouldn’t have thought that way because what we were doing was illegal, but I at least thought he might have cared about me.”
Confusion ran rampant through Mary’s brain. “So then being with men wasn’t Tifton’s first proclivity?”
“It was not. According to him during that conversation, he told Mr. Corbett that he was only with me for recreation, but he’d always known he would need to marry well and have the requisite heir and spare in case something happened with his older brother. The line needed to stay secured.”
“Were you so angry or heartbroken following that news that you lashed out at Mr. Corbett on the street? Did you follow him, kill him for talking to the viscount about it?” Bright wanted to know as he narrowed his eyes. “Were you lost in emotion and simply shot him to relieve those feelings?”
“No!” As the groom shook his head, he retreated to the door.
“I didn’t see either of them again after that night.
The truth is, I had started the process of looking for alternative employment...
but then the duke died and the viscount was furious when Miss Swanson told him not to call on her again… ”
“So you thought he’d have more time for you,” Mary finished for him.
He nodded. “He hasn’t sought me out, though, so I’ll continue to seek employment elsewhere.”
“That is probably a good idea.” She wrote down another note. “Unless you killed the duke, thinking he was the reason for his son suddenly following rules of society?”
Robert snorted. “I did not. The very thought of drawing blood from another person turns my stomach.”
Bright waved a hand. “Where were you on the night the duke was killed?”
“In my room over the mews, deep in my cups and far too drunk to even make it down the stairs let alone navigate through Mayfair.”
“Very well. Can you think of who might have wanted the duke dead?”
The younger man shrugged. “Probably anyone in the family with the exception of his oldest daughter. She’s the only one who cared about him.”
“Thank you for your time,” Bright said with a glance at her. “If we have more questions, we’ll return.” Once the groom left the room, he sighed. “This case is giving me a permanent megrim.”
She stood up from the sofa and tucked her notebook and pencil into her reticule.
“Perhaps we are nearly at the end.” Then she joined him in the middle of the room, laid a hand on his arm.
“Remember, Gabriel, this is the life you’ve chosen for yourself, for us.
And you are good at it, though it doesn’t seem like it right now.
Perhaps you need to take a step back in order to analyze it properly. ”
“Thank you.” Regardless that they were in someone else’s home, he tugged her into his arms and simply held her. “The reward is always worth the trial.”
“Yes, it is.” Though at times we just can’t see it while we’re going through it.
A half hour later, they were still at the duke’s townhouse, and this time they waited on his oldest daughter to come into the parlor for her interview.
When Lady Rebecca finally decided to grace them with her presence, Mary had the distinct feeling the lady had other things on her mind that went beyond the death of her father, regardless of wearing a dress dyed black.
“Mama told me you were here, but she also told me not to answer your questions,” the woman said in lieu of a greeting as she flounced onto a chair. “However, since I’m curious and bored, I decided to let you interview me anyway.”
“How magnanimous of you,” Bright murmured with a glance at Mary. When he widened his eyes, she bit the inside of her cheek to keep from chuckling. “We won’t take up much of your time, Lady Rebecca.”
“Thank you. I am quite a busy person.” She tossed her head, and in that moment, she resembled her father.
“I can just imagine,” Mary murmured, not bothering to retrieve her notebook, for she had a feeling there wouldn’t be much substance to this interview.
“I’m engaged, you know,” the lady continued as she bounced her gaze between the two of them. “He’s a wonderful man.”