Chapter Six
Lady Mary
The house was quiet at this time of morning, only the incessant rain sounding as it plinked against the slate shingles while the sky lightened to mercury gray.
The maid from last night, the one who’d asked about looking for employment, emerged from the rear sitting room, a bundle of cloth held as far from her body as she could possibly stretch her arm.
When she caught sight of me, she grimaced.
“Oh, milady. I didn’t think any guests would be awake yet.
I’ve just started cleaning the sitting room.
” She shook the bundle. “I think this fellow partook too much. I found ’im nose-down in the spilled wine. ”
“The wine?” My mind raced, any cobwebs from sleep quickly evaporating. “You found an animal dead in the wine?”
There was a scrabbling of nails, an excited yip. Southey ran circles around my skirts, his rear end wriggling like mad.
The maid sniffed. “If this one ’ad done ’is job, I wouldn’t ’ave to be cleaning up dead mice.”
The terrier got a little too familiar poking his nose under my skirt, and I gave him a gentle tap with my toes. “Can I have it? The mouse?” I held out my hand.
She blinked. “All right,” she said, drawing out the words. She passed it over and wiped her hands on her apron.
“What’s your name?” Southey must have sniffed out my new possession because he started leaping for the bundle, barking to wake the house.
“Marie Murphy.” She gave me a quick curtsy. “Are you sure you don’t want me to get rid of it?”
“Get rid of what?”
I started at the voice behind me. Mr. Evans stepped to my side and looked down at the dog. “Hush.”
Amazingly, the dog did.
“A mouse died in the sitting room.” Marie nodded her head back toward the room. “Lady Mary asked to ’ave it.” The maid’s tone indicated what she thought of my request.
The attorney wrinkled his forehead. “A dead mouse. Why….?” His forehead cleared. “The wine. You think he was poisoned? But the knife….”
“I think nothing yet. I only know there was next to no blood from the stab wound and that Perrin died somehow.” I headed into the sitting room, almost tripping over Southey.
I suspected much, but I didn’t need to alarm the whole household until we knew for certain.
I stopped at the puddle by the sideboard.
It had mostly dried, staining the wood beneath.
I took Perrin’s amber wine decanter and poured a fresh glass. I sniffed.
“Well?” Mr. Evans asked.
“It smells like his normal foul wine.” I shrugged. “The wormwood would hide any other odor. Or taste.”
Southey sniffed at the puddle, and the attorney used his boot to prod him away. The terrier turned his attentions to my gown once more, taking the hem in his mouth and tugging.
“We need another animal to test it.” If someone had poisoned Perrin’s wine, it had been a wise choice. I knew of no one else who would dare try it.
A tearing sound made us both look down. Southey sat back on his haunches, a triangle of fabric hanging from one tooth.
Mr. Evans and I looked at each other. He hastily scooped up the dog and backed away. “I’ll look for another mouse. Make sure no one touches that wine.”
I refrained from rolling my eyes at the obvious order.
I plopped down in a chair to wait. And wait.
Apparently catching a mouse was a more difficult task than I had imagined.
Finally, Mr. Evans returned, a small bit of brown fur in his hand.
He rubbed his thumb softly over what I saw was the animal’s head.
“Can you pour the wine into a saucer? It might drown if we dip it into the glass.”
I decided not to point out that there was a strong chance the mouse would be dying regardless and did as he asked.
Mr. Evans took the saucer and held it for the mouse to drink. It obliged, making me wonder if mice had any sense of taste.
“How long will this take?” I asked.
He shrugged. “I write contracts. I’ve never studied medicine.”
I sat back down. “It would have been better for Perrin if he’d invited his physician to this party instead of his solicitor.”
“I doubt his physician could have finalized the wedding contract, which was the reason why I was invited.” Mr. Evans kept stroking the small beast, trying to provide it comfort.
I studied the attorney’s face. His features were blunt, unrefined, but appealing in their way. If I had seen him on the street I would never have guessed law was his profession. “I was surprised when I heard Perrin might remarry. Miss Smith is quite young for him.”
He pursed his lips. “Not if he wanted more children. I’ve written contracts with larger age differences.”
“Was there anything unusual about this contract?”
He raised one eyebrow. “Aside from the fact it was unlikely to be signed? The earl angered the bride’s father, and I don’t believe Mr. Smith was amenable to a renegotiation.”
I scooted forward. “What did Perrin do?”
Mr. Evans hesitated.
“Your client is dead.” I waved him to the chair next to mine, tired of looking up so high. “Someone stuck a knife in his chest. We need to discover why.”
“When a magistrate comes—”
“It will be days.” I shouldn’t be annoyed. Mr. Evans didn’t know I had some experience at solving murders. He most likely thought me a nosy, old woman, not someone who could be of use. “And we are all stuck here together. The time for discretion is past.”
He sank down next to me, the mouse tucked against his chest, its nose twitching.
“Perhaps you are right. Many people won’t be safe until we discover the killer.
” He blew out a breath. “Your brother-in-law asked me to rewrite a term in the marriage contract. There was to be an exchange of land grants. Mr. Smith owns a parcel of land not too far from here. Used to be a mine, I believe, but it has some lovely coastline as well. As part of the contract, he was to trade that land for a section on the north of Perrin’s estate, one that produced an income.
It turns out Perrin had already sold off that part of his estate.
Perrin wanted me to change the contract and substitute another parcel of land.
Of course, I had to tell Mr. Smith of the changes. ”
“Of course.” Perrin had hired an honest attorney, a decision he most likely had regretted.
Evans scratched the mouse under the chin. “Well, Mr. Smith didn’t appreciate the attempt to deceive him. He said the wedding was off.”
There was a clatter of dishes in the dining room next door, the low murmur of voices as breakfast was set up.
“Perrin was always striving for his next deal.” I crossed my ankles and stared at the ceiling. “It doesn’t surprise me he ruined one deal by making another. Or that he angered Mr. Smith.” Perrin used to drive my husband mad with all the investment schemes he wanted Cavindish to invest in.
The attorney’s silence had me looking his way. “Do you know of other botched deals and angry associates?”
He cleared his throat. “Well, I suspect Lord Havenstone wasn’t feeling too fondly towards the earl after their meeting yesterday.
Perrin had a new business association he wanted Havenstone to invest in, but after losing all of the baron’s investment in their last deal, I don’t think Havenstone reacted the way Perrin wanted. ”
“They fought?”
“Loudly.” He pressed his lips together. “I was in the cloak room looking for something I’d left in my coat pocket. They were on the other side of the wall in Perrin’s study. Havenstone made it clear he wouldn’t be investing with Perrin again.”
“Interesting.” I knew Lord and Lady Havenstone socially. I’d heard at one time the baron had been forced to sell some land in the north, but their habits in London society had never changed. Had the loss of that investment been a financial burden to the baron? “Do you know how much he lost?”
Mr. Evans grimaced. “It was substantial but obviously not devastating.”
“And you won’t tell me the amount?”
“I will not.”
Fair enough. If I gained access to Perrin’s study in order to write to his sons, I most likely could find the information out myself.
If the earl had kept orderly records. “Anyone else here who lost money with Perrin?” I took back my previous thought.
Having Perrin’s solicitor at the house was deucedly more useful than a physician. He knew all the on dit.
“Only one other, though I don’t know how much.” Evans sighed. “I was hired after the event took place and only know of it through correspondence.”
“And…?” I rolled my finger in a circle. An attorney with a looser tongue would have been even better.
“Apparently Perrin lost a sum gambling to Mr. Withers. He paid it off with the note to a tin mine he owned.” Evans sniffed.
“But Mr. Withers didn’t know the mine was already played out.
He wanted recompense from Perrin, but the earl refused.
I understand Mr. Withers leases the land out to a wool business now. ”
The wool markets were a big industry in the southwest of England.
As was mining, mainly tin, copper, and silver.
But with the wool industry becoming mechanized, the land for shepherding was becoming less and less profitable.
The population of Modbury was smaller than the last time I’d come through it, with people moving to the cities to look for work as the factories took more and more jobs away from the countryside.
Bertram had every right to be angry at Perrin.
But Perrin was his brother-in-law, as well, the husband of Bertram’s sister.
Whatever differences the men might have had, they would have made allowances for it, for the sake of family harmony.
And I knew Bertram was quite comfortable financially.
The loss of a gambling win was hardly enough to make the man murderous.
I tapped the armrest. “My brother-in-law was not well-liked, and for good reason.” I still didn’t know why he had been trying to provoke me.
What had he known or thought he’d known?
“But he didn’t deserve death. Perhaps he died naturally, however, and someone stabbed him after out of misplaced anger or some misguided devilry. ”
“I fear not.” Mr. Evans rose, his mournful face looming over mine. He held out his hand. “The mouse is dead.”