Chapter Thirty-Six
Marie
“Will you stop that incessant singing?” Lady Mary’s peevish tone snapped Marie out of her reverie.
She flushed, and darted a glance at Brett.
“Sorry, ma’am.” She wasn’t really. It was a beautiful sunny day with a cool breeze.
Every moment together with Brett reaffirmed she’d made the right decision in marrying him.
And they were finally on their way to someone with more experience in catching killers for assistance.
The carriage hit a rut, and jounced them about unceremoniously.
Lady Mary uttered an oath. Being forced to admit defeat seemed a particular hardship for Her Ladyship.
After two days of watching houses and bribing footmen to let them know if their suspects fled, they’d come up with nothing.
Just because Lady Mary thought she knew who had killed Trent and Hicks didn’t mean they had any way to prove it.
It had taken much prodding for Lady Mary to finally admit that yes, they could use the help of her nephew’s inquiry agency.
Brett’s fingers played a little game with hers on the seat.
Marie bit back a smile.
Lady Mary glared at them. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
Marie straightened. “Tell you what?”
Her mistress’s faded blue eyes glittered. “About your marriage.” She jabbed a finger at them. “You saw fit to let everyone else in the house in on your secret but kept it from me. Or tried to. Did you really think I wouldn’t figure it out?”
Marie’s mouth hung open, her stomach sinking. “Um…”
Brett took her hand and squeezed. “We were going to tell you. When matters settled down and the killer was caught. We didn’t want to become a distraction.”
“Yes, because my wondering why you two were sneaking about and disappearing at odd times wasn’t distracting at all.” Lady Mary looked out the carriage window. “Did you think I wouldn’t give my approval? Did you think you even needed my approval?”
Marie scooted forward. “We didn’t intend it as a secret.
Not at first. That night before the wedding, Brett and I spent all night talking and kis—talking some more in the kitchen.
We decided to marry sometime in the middle of the night.
Jane came down, and she congratulated us when we told her.
Then the milkman came around for a cup of coffee, and he said he knew a willing minister and a clerk who could quickly get us a common license.
But we had to leave right then. We didn’t want to wake you at four in the morning. ”
Lady Mary pinched her lips together. “I’ve already been woken at four for a dead body. A wedding would have been a nice change.”
“Then it became a bit thrilling,” Brett said. He bumped his shoulder into Marie’s. “It felt illicit, with only Jane and Mr. Higgs at the church as witnesses. Stealing kisses in the hallways.”
Lady Mary rolled her eyes, obviously not appeased.
“And then we felt too guilty to tell you, because we’d waited so long. I was worried you’d be angry, so decided to put it off until the investigation was over.” Marie scraped her teeth over her bottom lip. “Forgive us?”
Lady Mary stared at them over her spectacles for a long moment before sighing. “Of course. But you must let me throw you a wedding breakfast. At least I can be good for something.”
Marie took Lady Mary’s hand. “You’re good for a lot of things.”
“Not in bringing this killer to justice.” Her nostrils flared. “To have to go to my nephew begging for help is intolerable.”
“Isn’t bringing a murderer to justice what matters, not who gets the credit?” Brett asked.
Lady Mary dipped her chin and gave him a look over her spectacles. “You are so young.”
Marie bit back a smile at Brett’s insulted expression.
The carriage came to a stop.
“Well, here we are.” Lady Mary drew her shoulders back. “At least Marcus isn’t one to say I told you so.”
Brett jumped down and helped them from the carriage.
Lady Mary led them up the short flight of stairs to one of the most regal homes Marie had ever seen.
The four-story townhome was made of a creamy sandstone.
Four Corinthian columns held the weight of an ornate portico over the front door.
A large, gold lion’s head knocker hung from the black front door.
Lady Mary used her walking stick to announce their presence instead.
The door was opened almost immediately. The liveried servant, who looked burly enough to guard the door from an army’s attack, bowed. “Lady Mary.”
“Good afternoon, Rudduck.” She stepped into the foyer. “Is the duke at home?”
“I’m afraid not, milady.” He nodded to Brett and Marie. “The Persephone is sailing this evening. His Grace is at the docks to see it off.”
“I see.” Lady Mary pursed her lips. “A moment of reprieve, perhaps.”
“Milady?”
“It’s nothing, Rudduck,” Lady Mary said. “And the duchess?”
Rudduck clasped his hands behind his back. “Up with the other Lady Mary. I could see if she’s free to take tea….”
Their Lady Mary flapped her hand. “Don’t bother her. Can you tell my nephew that I called? Tell him it’s concerning Mr. Trent.”
“Of course.” The butler scratched his head. “Trent? That man who was stabbed?”
Lady Mary nodded.
“He came here once, you know,” Rudduck said. “Insisted on seeing His Grace. Almost tried pushing his way in.” He drew his shoulders back, showcasing just how futile such an action would have been.
Lady Mary stilled. “When was this?”
“When the little Lady Mary was quite ill. His Grace wasn’t seeing anyone, much less a man soliciting business. Salesmen going door to door should be illegal,” he muttered.
“He was trying to sell his tinned food to the duke?” Marie’s eyebrows drew together. She wouldn’t have thought showing up at a potential client’s home to annoy them was a sound business tactic.
“Mr. Trent mentioned his tinned food just before I shut the door in his face.” Rudduck tugged on the lapels of his coat. “We don’t hold with impertinence in His Grace’s household.”
Lady Mary’s hand slipped off her walking stick and she stumbled. “Oh my Lord. The letter.” She shook her head. “At which dock is the duke’s ship berthed?”
Brett picked up the stick and pressed it back into her hands, a deep furrow creasing his forehead.
Rudduck blinked. “I don’t know the exact number, but it’s off Broad Street.”
Lady Mary ran out the door.
Marie looked to Brett for explanation, but he shook his head. They hurried after her.
“The Persephone will be leaving soon,” Rudduck called from behind. “They go by the tides, you know…”
Lady Mary shouted directions to Ernest. She barely waited for the steps to come down before jumping into the carriage. “As quick as can be,” she called up. “Lives depend upon us meeting that ship.”
“What is going on?” Marie clutched at her bonnet as the carriage took off at a speed it wasn’t meant to experience. “What letter? Why do we need to get to the ship?”
“I was so stupid,” Lady Mary muttered. “It was never meant for me. It was meant for Montague.”
“What was?” Exasperation colored Marie’s voice.
Lady Mary poked her head out the window. “The letter. The bloody letter.”
Marie hissed air in between her teeth.
Lady Mary sat back down and frowned at her. “Not bloody in that meaning. I mean literally bloody. The letter Trent was holding covered in his blood. It was never meant for me. It was always for my nephew.”
Brett leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “But why? What was in the letter?’
Lady Mary leaned forward, as though she could make the carriage speed faster to its destination. “The reason why Mr. Trent was murdered.”