Chapter Twenty-Seven
“She left you to die?” Nate said aghast after Bridget relayed her conversation with Mrs. Harley. “Then she has shown that she is capable of murder. We cannot rule her out.”
“I am starting to think everyone is capable of murder,” Bridget said. “How blissfully naive I was just a few months ago to the evils of mankind. I’ve lived in a sheltered world, surrounded by beauty and serenity for one-and-twenty years, like a little fool.”
“Your papa did his best to protect you. That was his job.”
“You’re right. Poor Papa. And I couldn’t even give him a proper burial. All I have left of him is a lock of his hair.”
“I’m sorry. I blame my brother for that. The least he could have done was use his influence to arrange for your father’s return. He’s an insensitive beast.”
“It’s not your fault.” Bridget blinked back her impending tears and took a deep breath.
If she started crying now, she’d never be able to stop.
She straightened her shoulders. “I believe Mr. and Mrs. Harley are innocent of the murder. They are both devastated that their plan failed. However, we do need to consider Sarah. As you told Mr. Harley, she may have been angered to discover that Abigail won the prize, so to speak.”
“That’s right. Whoever gave the Harleys a baby would have profited generously. I am certain that set the housemaids in fierce competition with one another.”
“True, but then again, Sarah had no reason to kill Madam Bouffant.”
“She may have—they may have—if Madam Bouffant discovered what Abigail and Sarah were doing. She might have wanted a piece of their prize, and they may have seen cause to push her down the stairs. Perhaps they weren’t late to start upstairs that day.
Mayhap they were there on time and saw an opportunity to push Madam Bouffant down the stairs after they caught her creeping out of her lover’s room when everyone else was still asleep.
Maybe they pushed her and then ran away, only to return later to ‘discover’ the body. ”
“Good heavens! That’s diabolical. But if it’s true, how will we obtain proof? Perhaps I’ll put Eliza on that task. She sees and hears all.”
“You shouldn’t do that. We have to consider everyone.”
Bridget blinked, taken aback by his comment. “What are you saying?”
“I’m saying everyone is a suspect.”
“Eliza has been in our service since before I was born. She nursed my mother when she was dying.” Bridget gave a short, angry laugh. “And may I remind you that these deaths started after your guests arrived from London.”
“Fair point,” Nate acknowledged. “All I’m asking is that we keep this investigation between us. We don’t need a myriad of amateur sleuths in the house. It would mean putting people in danger.”
Bridget nodded stiffly, still hurt by Nate’s comment about Eliza. “You’re right. That’s the last thing I want.”
“Good. We’ll interview Sarah together.”
“And what of Frederick?” Bridget said. “He had motive to kill both women. When I inquired about her brooch, Madam Bouffant implied she had more than one patron. When I asked her if Frederick had given it to her, she replied that the young ones were too cheap. But she never denied that Frederick was one of her patrons.”
“Oh, I am certain he was. Frederick fancies himself to be a Don Juan. He did not spend a fortnight journeying to Westmorland with a beautiful courtesan and act the polite gentleman the entire time—not Frederick!”
“Then he may have fallen in love with her and been overcome with jealousy when she refused to leave Lord Eamont. And the same scenario applies to Abigail.”
Nate shook his head. “No, it’s a good theory, but it doesn’t work in Frederick’s case. The man has no real heart. He doesn’t become attached to anybody except perhaps himself.”
“He’s your friend, so he must be attached to you.”
“Not at all. He and I indulged in the same vices for a time, and that’s the extent of our friendship. He’s quite bored of me already.”
“Very well, what of Jefferson and Adelia? We can’t ignore the fact that they disappeared the same morning Abigail died. Not to mention Jefferson’s strange behavior and his mumblings about ‘Andrew’ and ‘broken necks.’”
“Right. As it turns out, I have an explanation.”
“Oh?” Bridget said.
“While you were with Mrs. Harley, I interviewed Dodsworth. It was a difficult conversation because I had to tell him what I overheard on the shores of Windermere yesterday. He seemed surprisingly relieved that I knew his secret. He has even come to terms with his pending marriage to Lydia. After realizing that a marriage of convenience was the safest and best way for both of them to gain their freedom, the two of them helped to arrange Jefferson and Adelia’s elopement.
The Eamont sisters are finally free of their mother, and Jefferson and Dodsworth will be free to continue as they were, undetected. ”
“Then how do you explain Jefferson’s odd behavior the day Madam Bouffant died?”
“He assumed she broke her neck because that’s how his younger brother, Andrew, died. He fell down the stairs when they were boys and broke his neck. It was a tragedy that left deep scars on Jefferson’s heart. That is why he was so shaken by Madam Bouffant’s death.”
“Dear Lord, how awful.” Bridget covered her face with her hands. “The poor man. How horrible it must have been having that memory dredged up. And to think I wanted to accuse him of murder.”
“Yes, well, you couldn’t have known,” Nate said. “That said, it seems Sarah is our prime suspect with Lady Eamont a close second.”
“What about Lady Luxton? Are you certain she isn’t capable of—”
“I’m certain.” Nate said.
“You have to consider that she did have a motive after Madam Bouffant disturbed the two of you in the garden. Is it a coincidence that Madam Bouffant was found dead the very next day? Also, she made a rather callous remark after Madam Bouffant was killed. It appears she held a grudge against the woman. And who knows, she may have had a grudge against Abigail too. She seems to dislike other women.” She knew for sure that Lady Luxton held her in no high esteem.
“She can be harsh, that’s true. But I know her, and believe me, she is no killer.”
“Very well, then,” Bridget said, her heart sinking. The way Nate had jumped to Lady Luxton’s defense told her that he still harbored feelings for his former betrothed. And then, there was her son, whom he seemed to love. There was no doubt about it—their attachment was far from severed.
*
Sarah’s blue eyes were red rimmed and swollen from crying. But it was the fear in them that unnerved Bridget.
“I didn’t mean for her to die.” The maidservant shrank into the oversized leather chair in the study.
“What are you saying?” Nate leaned on the desk with his forearms and peered at Sarah. “That you killed Abigail by accident?”
“Killed her!” Sarah’s voice reached a high pitch. “No! I mean—I don’t know.” She looked from Nate to Bridget. “Can you wish someone dead?” she asked, her face scrunched and her eyes pleading.
Nate’s thick brows came together in a frown.
Bridget, who sat beside Sarah on one of the two oversized leather chairs in her papa’s study, leaned over and touched the housemaid on the arm. “What do you mean, Sarah?” she asked kindly. “Are you saying that you wished Abigail harm?”
Sarah’s features contorted as if she were in physical pain. “I wished her dead.”
“Yes, but did you—” Nate started, and then stopped when he caught Bridget’s eyes on him. She shook her head ever so slightly to indicate that he needed to be quiet.
Bridget turned back to Sarah and gently squeezed her hand. “Why did you wish her harm?” she asked, keeping the urgency out of her voice. “Did you feel threatened by her?”
Sarah shrugged.
“Perhaps you were jealous?” Nate suggested.
Sarah grimaced and fresh tears rolled down her cheeks. Bridget gave Nate a hard stare. He didn’t seem to realize that patience and kindness were imperative now. If Sarah felt threatened or blamed, she’d shut down and all would be lost.
“Don’t be ashamed,” Bridget said in a soothing tone. “We all feel jealous sometimes.”
Nate seemed to finally understand as he retrieved a handkerchief from his pocket and handed it to the housemaid. “Why don’t you tell us what happened.”
Sarah pressed the silk cloth to her eyes and took a shaky breath before speaking. “Mr. Harley offered us a good deal of money to—well—his missus is barren, you see, so—” She let out a sob.
“Don’t worry, we know that part already.” Bridget patted the servant’s hand. “You needn’t go into detail about it.”
“I know it sounds horrible, but I ain’t ever had a lot of money, and he promised us—whichever one of us gave him a child—a grand life.
At first, I didn’t want to do it because it were obvious that Mr. Harley preferred Abigail to me.
She was so pretty an’ Mr. Harley were always talking about how they both had copper hair.
I knew he wanted her to be the one to bear his child, and then I’d be left with naught.
” She stared at the handkerchief in her hands and shook her head.
“But Abigail convinced you to do it, didn’t she?” Bridget coaxed.
Sarah nodded. “Abigail swore we’d stick together, whichever one of us got with child first, it didn’t matter, we’d share the fortune.
We’d give the Harleys the child, take the money, and set up someplace together—take care of each other.
” Sarah made a strangled sound as another sob escaped her throat.
“Go on,” Bridget said gently, although she was having a difficult time sympathizing with the woman.
Sarah dabbed her eyes with the handkerchief again and sniffed before continuing. “At first, it were just Mr. Harley. He’d have both of us—one after the other.”