Chapter Eleven #2
“And instead of blaming Percy, they blamed her,” Mrs. Grey said. “Has everyone else followed that lead?”
“Not really,” Felix said. “But Mrs. Harvey is the only hostess on this side of Channing. The vicar, the doctor, and I don’t have wives, and there is no one else of a suitable class.
Mrs. Jenkins is on various church committees, where she is met with proper civility, but apart from town fêtes, there are no social occasions to which she is invited. It must be lonely for her.”
“And has Percy kept up his pursuit of her?” Grey asked.
Felix knew where that was going too. He met the other man’s gaze directly. “I really don’t think so. How could he when he was rarely here and his presence unwelcome at Dare Hall?”
Grey said, “And yet Mrs. Jenkins was bothered by his constantly calling upon her when he was in the area, hanging around her grounds, accosting her in the street.”
Felix almost groaned. Foolish lady! Why had she admitted that?
Because she was too honest.
When he said nothing, the Greys appeared to move on. “Do you own a pistol, Sir Felix?” Mr. Grey asked.
He was ready for that one. “I own three, including a pair of antique dueling pistols. I also own several shotguns of varying age, for shooting parties.”
Grey nodded, as if this was no more or less than expected. “Tell me, whom did you see around Larchford on Thursday?”
Felix blinked. One could not relax for a moment in the company of these two… “Only a few of my own people,” he said stiffly, “going about their legitimate business.”
“Including West?”
Felix began to shake his head, then said honestly, “Actually, yes, I did see him that Thursday morning. He was helping with repairs to a couple the moorings at the bridge.”
That certainly interested them both. They might not have changed posture, but mentally they seemed to sit up.
“At what time was this?” Grey asked.
“I’m not quite sure. Around ten in the morning, give or take half an hour.”
“Did you see him again when you returned?”
“No, but then, I was out visiting all day and didn’t return until dark.”
“Did you see anyone else while you were out?” Mrs. Grey asked.
“Such as whom?”
“Anyone who had cause to dislike Percy. Mrs. West, for example. Or Mrs. Jenkins.”
Damn. Rather than protecting her, he seemed to have added to their suspicion of her. “Neither. I saw no one who had no reason to be in Larchford.” He decided this had gone far enough, and began to push himself to his feet, indicating an end to the interview.
“What about Dr. Owens?” Mrs. Grey asked brightly. “Or his daughter?”
*
“We suspect the Owenses now?” Solomon murmured as they walked down the path from Larchford House to the canal.
“I think we have to suspect anyone with any sort of motive.”
“What is theirs?” Solomon asked, mystified. “Penelope seems to be the one woman Percy did not harass.”
“Why not?” Constance shot back.
Solomon took her hand and threaded it through his crooked arm. “Because he had been warned off,” he guessed.
“And not by Penelope herself, for he’d have paid no attention to that. Either by his own father or by Dr. Owens. Which, it struck me suddenly, might well be motive. If Owens had to warn Percy off, what damage was already done to Penelope?”
“That’s pure speculation,” Solomon said, frowning, “based on no evidence or even hearsay.”
“I know,” she admitted. “Actually, I was seeing if Sir Felix would react.”
“He didn’t, beyond a slightly baffled no.”
“Exactly. But he did react to our first mention of Adelaide Jenkins.”
Solomon, who had noticed the same thing, nodded. “He seems to be a chivalrous man. Adelaide has no protector. Penelope has her father, and no one in their right mind alienates the only physician for miles around.”
“There is that,” Constance allowed. “But don’t you think it goes a little deeper? He wasn’t just protecting Adelaide’s reputation. He was aware of her isolation, her loneliness, and, beyond that, would have us believe she has no motive for killing Percy.”
Uneasily, Solomon had to acknowledge she was right. “He was quite put out that we knew of Percy’s harassment.”
“He doesn’t know you and she are old friends,” Constance said with apparent carelessness. “And I think he’s in love with her. Which gives him a motive against Percy.”
Solomon nodded. “And he was out for all of the afternoon in question. He could easily have come across Percy, either at Larchford or around Dare Hall, if he went that far.”
“He wouldn’t shoot Percy in a duel, or over any kind of drunken insult to him,” Constance went on. “But he might well to protect the woman he loves.”
Solomon thought about that. “He might,” he said reluctantly, his stomach twisting. “Do you suppose she returns his affection?”
Constance met his gaze directly. “Would that be a problem for you?”
He hated that it took courage for her to ask that. He hated that she was hurt. But at least he could be honest. “Not for me. It might be a problem for David.”
*