Chapter Fourteen #2
“I’m sure he is,” Mary said, and she wondered if there was anything between the woman’s ears. “Now, if we can get back to the task at hand?”
Lady Rebecca made a mou of displeasure with her lips. “I don’t care to talk about my father. He is dead, and there is nothing we can do that would bring him back.”
One of her eyebrows rose. “If you could, would you bring him back? From all accounts, nearly everyone in his life hated him.”
“He wasn’t vile toward me… most of the time.” Lady Rebecca shrugged. Her frown deepened. “However, he wasn’t happy with my choice of fiancé. We’d argued about that.”
Interesting. Mary glanced at Bright, who frowned. “How long have you been engaged?”
“Six months.”
“Did your father not approve of your choice?”
“He claimed George was too old for me. He’s nearly five and forty, but I’m eight and twenty.
I said it didn’t matter to me, and besides, he will eventually hold the title of earl once his father dies, but Papa argued that the title was as empty as his coffers, and that the family wasn’t of good standing in the beau monde. ”
Bright cleared his throat. “Are the two of you in love?”
“Yes.” She nodded, and for the first time, honesty reflected in her expression. “I’m looking forward to being married, and I’m certain George will devise a plan to keep me in the style to which I’ve become accustomed as Papa’s daughter. He’s quite clever.”
Mary wanted to bite her tongue, but she refrained. “Did you hear anything here the night your father died? Perhaps if there was an intruder about or one of the servants suddenly went berserk?”
“Oh, no.” Lady Rebecca shook her head. “I’m a heavy sleeper.
It usually takes my maid two visits in the morning to wake me.
I wouldn’t have heard it if someone screamed down the house.
” Then she frowned. “I’m so weary of these questions and having strange people in the house.
” She brushed a piece of lint from her skirting.
“The death of my father has put my wedding into question. Surely society would grant me leniency since the ceremony was already planned before he was murdered? I suppose I could dye my gown, or perhaps I should only add black ribbons to the hem…”
Clearly, the woman was far too vapid, and they wouldn’t have anything usable from her.
It was equally obvious she didn’t do the deed.
Was she spoiled or did she merely want distance from the horrible event?
“Yes, well, I’m sure you are all grieving,” Mary said as she rose to her feet.
“And everyone does that differently. I only hope it won’t hit you hard later. ”
Lady Rebecca waved away the comment. “Of course, it could be worse.”
Though she doubted that, Mary was intrigued. “How?”
“I could be Johnathon.”
What did that mean? She pressed her lips together and prayed for patience before asking, “What is wrong with him?” From what she understood, Johnathon was the duke’s youngest son and child.
“I can’t believe you don’t know.” Lady Rebecca gained her feet and shook out her skirting. “He’s not exactly one of us, if you understand my meaning.”
“Let us pretend that I don’t. How do you mean?”
Apparently, the other woman found that all too funny, for she chuckled as if the conversation topic was some grand joke.
“You’ll find out, but his blood isn’t as thick as ours.
” Then she winked. “Oh, and also, when you go to question him, ask to speak with his fiancée as well. I’ve always thought there is something… not quite right with her.”
Now she knew why Bright was so frustrated by this case. The wealth of secrets and half truths was maddening. “Such as?”
“I couldn’t say, for I’m not one to gossip.
” Another lie, but Mary let it go. “No one says anything, but there is a definite attitude from my mother toward her, and things are quite frosty between them. Of course, Johnathon’s history doesn’t help.
” Then she shrugged and included them both in her gaze.
“Not to be rude, but as I’ve said, I am quite busy. If you’ll show yourselves out?”
Once alone, Bright shot her a rather cheeky grin. “Welcome to what I’m calling occupational insanity brought on by an embarrassment of secrets.”
“Ha!” Though it was comforting to have that mindset shared. “If we weren’t here right now, I’d kiss you.”
“Save such naughtiness for tonight, Mrs. Bright. We have one more interview to conduct today before returning home.”
God save me from the next person who lies to me.
Wickham’s Tea Shop
Mayfair, London
For the first time during the case, fortune smiled upon them, for when Mary and Bright stepped inside the charming tea shop for a late afternoon refreshment, she overheard one of the footmen speaking to a young couple at a nearby table.
He addressed the man as Lord Arsdale, and Mary remembered Bright had told her that the duke’s youngest son had chosen that title for himself, as was his right as a duke’s son.
“Bright, that couple two tables over is Lord Arsdale, Boddingford’s youngest son, as well as his fiancée,” she whispered as they were seated at their own table. “This is the perfect opportunity to interview them where they order us away.”
He glanced in that direction then slowly nodded. “It is, indeed, most fortuitous. Let us make inroads into our tea before interrupting theirs.”
“Of course.” With another glance at the young people and their table, Mary placed the full of her concentration on her husband. “We’re getting close; I can feel it.”
“I do hope you are correct, love.” Lines of strain framed his eyes and mouth. “It is beginning to take a toll, I think.”
“We will weather it together.”
For the next half hour or so, they enjoyed the repast and ritual of tea. Once they were mostly finished, Bright gestured with his head toward the other table, and silently they went over.
“Pardon us,” he said in a soft voice so as not to startle the younger couple. “I am Inspector Bright and this is my wife and investigative partner, Mrs. Bright. Do you mind if we ask you a few questions?”
The man glanced up with shadows in his dark eyes.
With his light brown hair and gentle features, he only slightly resembled his father.
“I don’t mind. In fact, I was expecting you,” Lord Arsdale said in a well-modulated tone.
“This is Miss Bentley, my fiancée, but I would much rather we do this outside for more privacy.”
Mary offered what she hoped was a comforting smile.
The blonde woman had a sweet demeanor and the typical English rose complexion.
“I can understand that. We will wait for you on the pavement in perhaps half an hour.” Then she and Bright returned to their own table to finish tea.
After that, they made their way outside of the shop, nodding to the young couple as they went.
“Tea was lovely,” she said to her husband while trying to stay close to the brick wall of the building and out of the way of foot traffic.
“It was, and that is much due to the company,” he replied with a certain softness in his eyes that sent a tingle down her spine. Since his brown hair was a tad longer than fashion demanded, the ends curled beneath the brim of his top hat.
“Do hush, Gabriel.” Heat went through her cheeks. He truly was a darling man. “Don’t say such things in public.”
“Why not? What do I care if someone overhears me flirt with my wife?” The moment he took her gloved hand and brought it to his lips for a kiss, the door to the tea shop opened. Seconds later, the younger couple came out. “Ah, Arsdale. Thank you for joining us.”
The lord nodded. “How can I assist you, Inspector?”
“During the course of the investigation, there have been hints regarding you and your relationship with your father. Can you expand on that? Tell me why?”
“It’s… complicated.” With his greatcoat and top hat, he was quite dapper, and with his fiancée in her pelisse of ivory and brocade on his arm, they made an attractive couple.
Mary nodded. “You will need to explain more deeply,” she encouraged in a low voice.
Miss Bentley patted his arm. “Go ahead, Johnathon. You have nothing to be ashamed of.”
“Neither do you,” he said with a grin at her.
Then he looked at Mary. “Has no one told you about my true parentage?” When they both shook their heads, he sighed.
“Of course not. Secrets are a commodity in my family, and quite frankly, I grew tired of it a few years ago. I stopped talking to my family.”
Now that was interesting. “Because of your father’s opinions and prejudices?”
“That, and due to who I am.” Lord Arsdale shrugged. “He refused to accept my engagement to Miss Bentley because her family is what they call nouveau riche and because her father is a wealthy merchant and not of the ton.”
His fiancée added to the conversation. “I can understand that a duke wants his children to marry well, but he refused to accept that Johnathon and I are truly in love and can’t wait to marry, have a family of our own.”
“How long have you been engaged?”
Lord Arsdale glanced at Miss Bentley, who shrugged. Then he addressed Mary. “Over a year.”
Bright frowned. “Why have you not wed her?”
The younger man’s face paled. He gestured them closer and seemed to shrink against the wall.
“Firstly, yes, it’s true I’ve been estranged from my parents—my family—for a few years, but there is a good reason.
They treated me differently from the start because I’m an illegitimate by-blow of my father’s. ”
Mary’s eyebrows rose with surprise. “Oh, dear.” No wonder there were always innuendo and secrets within the family. “Why did you father take you in to be raised with his other children?”
“Who can say?” Lord Arsdale shrugged. “Perhaps he wished to make Mama angry, especially since I came about from when my father raped my sisters’ governess, perhaps he liked to watch me suffer, who can say? Yet I was raised as his son, was treated as anything but.”