Chapter Twenty-Nine
Lady Mary
“It’s none of your business!” The voice was loud, even through the closed door. I hurried forward, holding my walking stick above the ground until I reached the rear sitting room. “This house isn’t a prison,” the same voice roared as I opened the door. “I can go where I will.”
Lord Havenstone stood by the sideboard, gesturing wildly to Mr. Smith, a bit of his drink sloshing over the rim of his glass.
Mr. Smith crossed his arms over his protruding stomach. “I say it is my business. Two men have been murdered and now you’re sneaking about. I want to know why you were on that staircase. Hiding another bit of incriminating evidence?”
“Gentlemen.” I gave my voice its most authoritative tone. “What is this argument concerning? We are just about to enjoy another fine meal prepared by Cook Clem. All this fighting isn’t conducive to the appetite.”
Havenstone flushed. “I beg everyone’s pardon.” He bowed slightly to the room, which included every guest except Miss Walker. “But I will not allow such insults to my character to go unanswered.”
I found a seat that gave me a good view of the action. I sat on the edge of the cushion, resting my hands on the head of my walking stick. “Which insults are those?”
Mr. Ryder sighed. “Mr. Smith is accusing Lord Havenstone of going where he shouldn’t in the manor. He seems to think it indicates some guilt on the baron’s part.”
Havenstone lifted his chin. “It is still quite muddy in parts outside. I need exercise. So I’ve walked about the house once or twice. What is it to anyone else?”
Mr. Smith poked a finger toward Havenstone’s chest, not making contact, I noticed. “It’s suspicious, is what it is. And don’t think I won’t be telling Constable Adams about it next time I see him.”
“Tell him what?” Havenstone huffed. “That I’ve taken a daily constitutional going up and down some staircases? Yes, tell him that. See how much he cares.”
Mr. Smith’s face reddened. “He’ll care if I want him to care.”
“Yes, because your money will buy you anything.” Miss Walker stood behind a settee, gripping the back.
I frowned, annoyed she had slipped in without my notice.
“You are free with your accusations, Mr. Smith,” she said, emphasizing mister. “I wonder if it is to divert suspicion from your own behavior.”
Mr. Ryder raised a hand. “Ladies and gentlemen, there is no need for acrimony. We are to remain together for the foreseeable future. We should remain pleasant, if possible.”
It was almost endearing, the moralist’s attempt to civilize this crowd. Fortunately for my purposes, no one paid him any mind.
“Ha!” Havenstone leaned forward, into Mr. Smith’s space. “It’s about time someone challenged you. Do you think none of us know how you hated Perrin? All you care about is money, and the earl swindled a profit away from you. You are most likely accusing me to deflect from your own guilt.”
Mr. Smith clenched his hands into fists.
Katherine jumped to her feet and hurried to her father. She took his arm and tugged him away from Havenstone. “Their words don’t matter, Father. Anyone who knows you knows that would be ridiculous.”
“The same could be said for me.” Havenstone jerked his thumb to his chest. “And for everyone in this room. But someone killed Perrin.”
“And Taylor.” Henry arched an eyebrow. “Everyone seems to forget about him.”
It was a bit sad. I rubbed my finger on the bridge of my nose. Even in death, social status mattered.
“Well, it wasn’t me.” Mr. Smith patted Katherine’s hand.
“Perrin was a right sot, and I’ll admit I was angry with him, but I was also prepared.
A shipping company had previously expressed an interest in my parcel of land.
They want to build a dock near the source of the local ores.
I’d put them off because I’d already reached an oral agreement with Perrin to exchange the land.
Once Perrin died, and after the roads cleared, I sent a note to the company’s agent in London.
They still want my land. I’ll make a tidy profit off the sale. ”
“But you didn’t know that at the time of Perrin’s death,” Bertram said slowly, his eyebrows drawing together.
“I saw no reason that wouldn’t be the case.” Mr. Smith poured himself a small glass of wine. “The company’s interest wouldn’t have evaporated so quickly.”
“Of course not.” Katherine glared at Miss Walker.
“Besides, the fact that someone took the time to gather the poison indicates to me that the killer thought about this murder for some time. It wasn’t the action of someone momentarily angered by the earl.
It feels more like the action of someone who’d had years of resentment building. ”
“How dare—”
“Ladies.” Mr. Ryder stood. “I realize this is a frightening time, but resorting to insults doesn’t help the situation. Let’s all of us remember that two men are dead. Our time would be better spent praying for their souls rather than bickering among ourselves.”
An uncomfortable silence descended. He was right, of course, but it was hardly something we wanted to be reminded of. I sniffed. And besides, the information I was gathering from the insults of the angry guests was invaluable.
“Dinner is served.” The butler stood in the adjoining doorway to the dining room. “Clem has prepared pheasant breast a l’orange for tonight’s meal.”
Regardless of how much I wanted this bickering to continue, the idea of what Cook Clem would do with that dish had me and everyone else hopping to our feet and making for the dining room.
The meal started with a lovely onion soup, surprisingly earthy flavors rolling over my tongue for such a delicate broth. It was difficult not to give all my attention to the bowl before me. But I persevered.
“How was your ride today?” I asked the Havenstones.
Lady Havenstone lifted her chin, her turned-up nose looking judgmental. “Perrin does have some lovely land. We rode along the cliffs. It’s hard to believe just days ago a raging storm was coming from the Atlantic Ocean. The channel looked so peaceful today.”
“Perrin did keep an adequate stable,” Lord Havenstone admitted. “It was an enjoyable afternoon.”
“Yes, I’ve spoken with the stable master.” Henry set his spoon in his empty bowl. “He cares for the horses greatly and runs the stables like a tight ship. It’s surprising that he let one of the saddles become worn to the point a girth snapped mid-ride at a previous house party.”
Katherine beamed at the attorney, his comment obviously meeting with her approval.
From the scowl that appeared on Miss Walker’s face, I thought I understood why.
Lady Havenstone sat back. “When did that occur? I noticed no wear on my saddle.”
“It was months ago,” Miss Walker said tersely. “And I’m certain the stable master learned from his past mistake after that woman fell.”
Lady Havenstone blanched. “I thought in that at least we would be safe.” She turned to her husband. “You should have checked the equipment before we rode. I have no tonic for a broken neck.”
“It was perfectly safe,” he assured her.
“Yes, I’m certain it wasn’t negligence on the stable master’s part.” Katherine leaned back so the footman could remove her bowl and replace it with a plate.
The scents of orange and thyme teased my nose. “I agree. You’ve ridden twice now here. You must have noted how orderly the stables are. You’ve nothing to worry about.”
Lady Havenstone blinked. “Twice? We’ve only ridden the once, today.”
“Oh?” I held my knife poised above the meat. “I thought you and your husband had also ridden yesterday, before lunch.”
Mr. Ryder caught my gaze and shook his head. To him, at least, my subterfuge was apparent. But I’d always known the man had a brain behind his handsome face. Unfortunately, he’d used said brain once too often in opposition to me.
“No, we rested before lunch.” She shivered. “After nearly being shot by Mr. Taylor, I needed time alone in my room.”
“Alone?” I brought a bite of the bird to my lips. My eyes involuntarily closed in appreciation at how succulent the meat was.
“Well, alone with my husband.” Lady Havenstone also popped a bit of pheasant in her mouth and paused in appreciation. She patted the baron’s hand. “Though I’m afraid I wasn’t very good company for him. I fell asleep almost as soon as my head hit the pillow.”
“Just being in your presence is company enough, asleep or no.” Havenstone met my gaze. “Why the questions?”
“Just making conversation.” I busied myself with my meal. So Lord Havenstone had no alibi. A sleeping wife couldn’t attest that he’d remained in their room. He could have snuck out to kill Mr. Taylor.
How much blood would have been on the killer’s clothes? Would his wife have noticed any stains once she’d awoken? And if the killer had gotten blood on his or her clothes, would they have been foolish enough to leave them out for the servants to clean?
I needed to speak with Marie again, but I couldn’t do anything until dinner was over. So I put thoughts of murder out of my mind and enjoyed the meal with everyone else. I would also need to speak with Cook Clem again. I needed him in my kitchen. I’d never tasted a dish so exquisite.
Mr. Ryder must have agreed. “I do hope I’ll have a chance to partake of Clem’s cooking after we leave. I’ve never tasted the like.”
“Only if I invite you to my house for dinner.” I dragged a piece of meat through the sauce pooled on my plate. I chuckled at the thought. “And that is highly unlikely, as you know.”
Mr. Ryder dipped his chin. “‘Count not thy chickens that unhatched be.’”
I pressed my lips together. I had my own sayings. “‘Fortune favors the bold.’” And boldness was something I never lacked.
Lady Havenstone frowned. “It is most unseemly the two of you trying to take Cook Clem. Have you no thought for the next Lord Perrin? How he might wish to keep his father’s chef in his employ?”
From what I remembered of Perrin’s sons, I liked the boys, but the next earl would have to make his bid for the cook along with the rest of us. However, perhaps that was a point better left unsaid.
The rest of the meal passed pleasantly. The mood of everyone seemed to lift with the intake of the excellent food.
Accusatory glances faded and friendly conversations ensued.
The power of a well-cooked meal was not to be underestimated.
When the last morsel had been devoured and the plates scraped clean, we all stood to retire once again to the sitting room.
Marie stood at the door leading from the dining room into the hall.
She held the end of her apron clenched in her hands, and when she caught my eye, used the hem to wave me over.
The rest of my compatriots were filing into the sitting room through the adjoining door.
I held back so they might not notice my clandestine meeting with the maid.
But before half of the guests had left the room, something caught Marie’s notice and she froze.
A blush darkened her cheeks and she dropped her gaze to the floor.
I looked over, wondering who could have caused that reaction in the bold young miss. Only the Havenstones, Bertram, and Mr. Ryder lingered by the door, waiting for the slow moving crowd to push through the doorway so they, too, could make their way into the sitting room.
I pushed my spectacles up my nose. How very odd. Yet another question to ask the girl.
But when I turned back toward the outer doorway, I found it empty. Marie had disappeared.