Chapter 15
Waverly
Traeger Hall
One thing Waverly had noticed about Titus Fitzgerald was that he was not one to be coerced or bullied into something.
He was far too opinionated for that. On one hand, it was no surprise he remained behind when Constable Morgan took his leave; on the other hand, Waverly was aggravated that Titus presumed she’d wish to speak to him.
He had, after all, just given the constable added weight to the ludicrous theory that she had something to do with her uncle’s and aunt’s deaths.
“Might I have a word with you, Miss Pembrooke?” Titus addressed her but also included Preston, who sauntered back into the sitting room after showing the constable to the front door.
“Ah!” Preston exclaimed. “I see. You are not here to speak with me.” He looked between them, seeming to enjoy exerting an air of self-importance.
“I shall leave you to it then.” With a slight bow of his head, Preston took his leave, which surprised Waverly.
She’d expected him to want to be included or at the very least to stay, to pretend he had some tie to Waverly as a potential suitor.
“A stroll outdoors, perhaps?” She extended her arm toward the door, recalling a few months ago when she’d engaged in polite conversation with Titus at a social event in Newton Creek.
At that time, she’d been enamored with his icy eyes, his deeply toned skin, his remarkable features that were so unlike what one might imagine an undertaker to be.
Enamored? She might have been. They had sparred verbally from time to time, but that had been the extent of it.
Until now when her guardians were dead, and when Titus seemed far more invested in the situation than one might find necessary.
“The fresh air will do us good.” Titus held his hat under his arm. “It’s stifling in here.”
Within moments, they had moved to the outside and were strolling along a path that led to the gardens in the back.
“I don’t believe you personally wielded the dagger that slaughtered your uncle and aunt,” Titus proclaimed with all the finesse of someone terrible at navigating polite conversation.
“How kind of you to place such faith in me,” she retorted.
Titus halted on the path, his dark brown suit emphasizing the bright blue of his eyes. “I do wonder, however, if today’s conversation underscores for you the danger you are in? As I’ve stated before and will not cease stating.”
“Danger?” Waverly feigned surprise. “What with the magnanimous Preston Scofield in residence now, who believes he can determine my future and take over my nonexistent inheritance? On the contrary, I’m quite protected now.” She didn’t care if Titus heard the anger in her voice.
“Are you insinuating that Mr. Scofield isn’t aware of the terms of your uncle’s will and your soon-to-be destitute future?”
Waverly frowned. “No. He is not aware. He has yet to meet with Mr. Grossman.”
“And you haven’t informed him?” Titus’s deep baritone held a hint of surprise.
Waverly looked up at him. “And have him murder me too? For all I know, he is the one who fired the shot through the window not three weeks ago, and he is the one who finally succeeded in killing Uncle Leopold and Aunt Cornelia. What if this was part of his grand plan? To swoop in and merge his life with mine and take over my uncle’s assets.
I’d be a fool to reveal to him that I—and, in turn, he—will inherit nothing from my uncle.
Preston just might turn his wrath on me, and then I would be the next body you prepare for burial. ”
“Waverly—” Titus began.
She held up a hand, cutting him off. Waverly knew he was about to reprimand her for staying at Traeger Hall and putting her life in danger.
“I’m trying to make plans for myself. I have questions of my own, you know?
And your keeping me from investigating the motives for my uncle’s death is hindering me.
Also, I have my maid, Aveline, to add an element of safety, and I’m not unaware of what is going on around me.
” It was a weak defense, and Waverly knew it.
Reason told her to flee Traeger Hall now.
But where would she go, and with what money?
Besides, she had more than just herself to think about; she had someone else to consider as well . . .
“I am not witless, you know. I can be cunningly cautious,” Waverly finished with an emphatic lift of her brows.
“And yet you meet with unidentified gentlemen.” Titus looked into her eyes with a bit of accusation.
Waverly felt her cheeks become warm and sensed apprehension squeezing her heart. “It was nothing untoward.” She could at least assure Titus of that, if nothing more.
Titus regarded her for a long moment and then gave a shake of his head. “This morning, I took into my possession the remains of an elderly man. I doubt you would know him personally. He was more than likely beneath you in station and in company.”
“Oh, for pity’s sake,” Waverly spat under her breath.
“I did so because I was responding to a writ of replevin,” Titus concluded with an expression that insinuated Waverly should understand.
She didn’t.
Titus, appearing to gather that, continued, “In short order, Mrs. Hammish, who owns the boardinghouse in Newton Creek—”
“I know who she is,” Waverly interrupted, not wanting to appear completely removed from the community over which Traeger Hall seemed to lord.
“Good. Well, Mrs. Hammish offered room and board to an elderly couple only a week ago, and shortly thereafter the gentleman’s heart gave out and he passed on.
I was arranging for a coffin for the deceased when I witnessed Mrs. Hammish’s attempt to receive payment for the time the couple had stayed at her boardinghouse and for the food eaten there. ”
Waverly had no idea where Titus was going with all of this.
“In the end, the dead man’s wife offered to pay half of the total cost, not believing the full price was fair, seeing as her husband had died and their visit cut short.”
“I’m not understanding the relevance,” Waverly said.
“Mrs. Hammish had taken the man’s body hostage,” he added.
Waverly had no words at this point.
Titus continued, “Mrs. Hammish stated she would keep the body in her front parlor for as long as it took the man’s wife to pay their bill in full.
It was then that the wife took it upon herself to seek assistance, and Constable Morgan was called upon.
She requested that the constable administer a writ of replevin—a case made in writing to retrieve property that has been wrongfully obtained. ”
“The old man’s corpse?” Waverly was dumbfounded and at the same time still bewildered. What on earth did this situation have to do with her?
“Precisely. Due to the writ of replevin, and at the rather forceful insistence of Constable Morgan, Mrs. Hammish agreed to relinquish the body to me.”
“Sir, what is your point?” While the story was morbidly fascinating, she had become thoroughly exasperated.
“My point, Waverly,” said Titus, making a show of using her first name, “is that those who believe something rightfully belongs to them will stop at nothing to retrieve it.”
“Well, I should think so, especially with respect to a loved one’s remains!”
Titus nodded. “And if one is willing to do that for a corpse, imagine what someone might do to retrieve what they believe to be their own wealth being unjustly kept from them.”
“Are you implying that I would have my guardians killed under the assumption I would then be able to lay claim to my uncle’s estate?” While Waverly saw only a thin correlation between Titus’s story and her own situation, she did not like it nonetheless.
“I’m not implying anything,” Titus snapped.
“I’m merely stating what I’ve observed about human nature.
And what will inevitably be part of Constable Morgan’s reasoning.
Like it or not, you are more of a suspect to him and with more motive than anyone else.
Your clandestine meeting with the unidentified gentleman, your arrival at Traeger Hall barely a year ago, the fact your aunt had married Leopold just five years prior to your arrival—all of it is suspiciously convenient, appearing like a wily plan concocted by two women who stood to gain quite a lot by one man’s death. ”
Speechless, Waverly could only stare at Titus.
“That you’ve yet to take your leave of Traeger Hall when a murderer is still on the loose shows a serious lack of caution,” Titus added. “Unless, of course, you already know who the murderer is, and you have no fear of the person.”
“I don’t!” Waverly protested. “Besides, you know as well as I do—I stand to gain nothing!”
“An unfortunate and unpredictable turn of events,” Titus said. “Your master plan has gone awry.”
“You think I orchestrated this with my aunt?”
“No, I do not think that. Nor do I think you double-crossed your aunt by having the unidentified man kill her also. But I guarantee you the constable believes this, and he’s looking for evidence to back it up.”
Panic swelled within her because everything Titus said made sense. Horrible, awful sense! She could see how it all appeared now. And in good conscience, for the sake of another, she couldn’t defend herself!
“Oh, bother!” Waverly whirled away from Titus and marched to a bench several yards away, flanked by rosebushes that had already finished blooming for the summer.
Titus followed her to the bench. “I hope you see now the urgency for you to protect yourself and for you to be honest, telling the authorities everything you know, so that we might clear your name before this becomes entirely blown out of proportion.”
“I have nothing of which to clear my name!” Waverly glared at Titus, who stared back at her in return. His expression held little empathy.
“Tell me who the unidentified gentleman is, Waverly, and allow me to assist you.”