Chapter Eight
Having seen off the annoying Lady Ambrose—where on earth was the husband to keep the chit in line?—Kemp hovered around the study doorway for the first sign that his master was finished with his pre-breakfast work.
As soon as he heard movement behind the door, he knocked and went in.
Lord Chadbon stood in the middle of the room, stretching. He lowered his arms. “Well, Kemp? What now?”
“Nothing important, my lord. Merely that Lady Ambrose is asking a lot of very detailed questions about Dinah’s death. Questions that could stir up the whole matter beyond what is seemly. She does not believe in the curate’s guilt.”
“Well, she’s a woman—a very young woman—and Grande is nominally a man of God.
Plus, I believe his family were neighbors of hers.
Her father is Lord Hynde, you know. She has promised discretion, and truly, a mistake would be as much scandal as the murder, if it ever got out.
” Chadbon frowned. “You haven’t told the staff that the curate’s been arrested, have you? ”
“Of course not, my lord,” Kemp replied with dignity. “But everyone knows Dinah is dead. The funeral—”
“Will be her aunt’s business. I have arranged for her body to be conveyed there. Was there anything else?”
“Well, yes. According to Jack Irwin, the roads are flooded. Your guest won’t get through until tomorrow at the earliest.”
“The devil. I hadn’t bargained on that. Well, Remington will just have to keep Grande for another day. I don’t want them spreading the tale to London that my curate’s been sent to the assizes.”
“Of course not, my lord. There is no doubt that he did it.”
“There isn’t,” His Lordship agreed. “One cannot argue with the evidence.”
“Lady Ambrose can,” Kemp said deliberately.
Lord Chadbon smiled. “No, she can’t, and she won’t. She’s just making sure. And that is like insurance for us. Cooperate, Kemp. But keep your eye on her. I don’t want rumors circulating amongst the staff and the country folk.”
“They’ll notice, come Sunday, that the curate is not there.”
“Hmm. I’ll see if Bancroft can’t make some accommodation. Or, better, just say the man’s gone home for some emergency. Leave it with me. Is breakfast out yet?”
“Indeed, my lord.”
*
Kate was surprised to find several guests already in the breakfast parlor, with Lady Chadbon herself presiding over the table. Everyone seemed terribly concerned about the flooded roads. Miss Nye was all atwitter.
“Oh dear,” she kept repeating. “Oh dear. My brother is determined to return to London—so many commitments, you understand… What on earth shall we do?”
“The matter is easily resolved, ma’am,” Lady Chadbon said kindly. “You must simply stay with us another night. The rain is already lighter, and I’m sure the roads will be passable by tomorrow morning.”
“But we would be inconveniencing you,” Mrs. Otteridge pointed out.
“Not at all. Both Chadbon and I are glad of the company. It is always particularly good to be with friends when outdoors is cold and damp! Sir Colin will understand perfectly that traveling in such treacherous conditions is simply not worth the risk.”
And somehow, the delay was accepted and the company soothed. In her own way, Lady Chadbon was as authoritative and as persuasive as her husband.
Kate filled her plate from the sideboard and collected a cup of tea from Her Ladyship before surveying the table.
Miss Nye sat a little apart from the rest of the gathered company, with no one directly opposite her.
There were two empty chairs on her right and no one at all on her other side.
Kate sat next to her on the left, and they both smiled and murmured, “Good morning.”
Under cover of the general conversation now rising around the table, Kate said, “Tomorrow will be a much more comfortable departure. Unless you have a pressing need to be in London today?”
“Oh no, but Colin does so hate his plans to be upset.”
Kate smiled. “There is no point in railing against the weather, however! We just have to be glad the harvest is already in—however poor it proves to be.”
“Indeed,” Miss Nye said fervently. “I believe the corn laws are all that all will save us.”
Us being the landowning classes who alone would benefit from the high price of grain. However, the corn law had been passed and the returning soldiers bill still needed Nye’s support. So Kate merely smiled and let it go.
“I must say it has been a pleasure getting to know you and Sir Colin,” she said amiably. “I hope you have enjoyed your stay at Chadbon Court as much as I.”
“Oh, indeed, yes. Her Ladyship is such a kind and attentive hostess, and everyone has been so welcoming. It is not always so, you know. Some people quite ignore me at such occasions, but here—”
Seizing the way in, Kate interrupted without compunction. “Truly? But you are clearly so valuable to Sir Colin that he cannot be without you. Your quick mind and keen observations are a blessing to him and to his friends in Parliament.”
“You are too kind,” twittered Miss Nye, blushing. “I am only his amanuensis, you know.”
“Not only,” Kate said firmly, for she genuinely felt that this woman, like most females, was undervalued. “In fact, I was hoping to make use of your observations—not on politics, but on a discreet matter, you understand? Just between us ladies.”
Miss Nye sat up, looking more birdlike than ever.
“After dinner, on the night we arrived,” Kate said, spreading butter on her toast, “several people left the drawing room at one time or another for varying lengths of time.”
Miss Nye nodded. “Including you.”
Kate beamed as though her opinion was vindicated. “Including me. Twice! The first time I left was perhaps around ten o’clock, I think? Shortly after Mr. Grande had taken his leave.”
“Yes, indeed. Such a charming young man. I’m sure he will quickly get preferment. You were gone for quite a quarter of an hour.”
“I was, wasn’t I? What I’ve been wondering is, who left during those fifteen or so minutes? And when did they return?”
Miss Nye blinked. “Why on earth do you wonder about that?”
“Because I wasn’t there,” Kate said. “But you were, and I’m hoping you can be my eyes.”
“But why?”
“I believe someone acted…inappropriately during that time. And it is against all our interests to let that stand. Don’t misunderstand me, ma’am—I am well aware that if you had seen anything wrong you would have spoken out, to our hostess at the very least. But I need to narrow down the possibilities for Lady Chadbon, and understand who was where, and when. Largely for their own good, of course.”
“Of course,” Miss Nye repeated, with just a hint of sardonic humor that made Kate both warier and more respectful. “Since you ask, I believe Mr. Otteridge went out shortly after you left the drawing room. Then a few minutes later, I myself visited the retirement room. I did not see you there.”
“Oh, I wasn’t there.”
“Neither was anyone else. On my way back to the drawing room, I saw Mr. Newman running upstairs in something of a hurry.”
Kate nodded. Lewis had mentioned him already.
“This reminded me that I wanted to fetch another shawl from my bedchamber, so I did.”
“Did you notice Mr. Newman or anyone else up there?”
Miss Nye shook her head. “No. But then, you know, I wasn’t really paying attention.” She sounded apologetic, as though sorry to have let Kate down. Then she brightened. “Although, now I think about it, my brother was leaving the drawing room just as I went up. Perhaps you could ask him.”
Those kindly eyes blinked shortsightedly. Was there a challenge there? Did she think Kate would be too overawed to question Sir Colin?
“Was the footman at his post then?” Kate asked.
“Ye-es, I think so.”
“Did you notice when these gentlemen returned to the drawing room?”
“I’m sure Colin was back by the time I returned. I believe you were back in the drawing room shortly afterward.”
“Yes, but I was not paying attention,” Kate said ruefully. Her head had been full of her reunion with Rupert. “I’m hoping you were.”
“They were all back before Lord Chadbon was called away.”
Lewis had seen Otteridge return, too. The man must have been away from the drawing room for twenty minutes or half an hour—what on earth had he been doing? Lying in wait for Dinah, while Kate had been in the orangery with Rupert?
The footman had not mentioned seeing Nye or Newman return to the drawing room. Newman must have been away for some time too, if he had preceded Miss Nye upstairs, although Sir Colin had obviously not been gone so long. Did this rule him out?
A pity, she thought with a twinge of guilt. If there had to be a murderer here, Gilbert would prefer it to be a Tory.
Clearing her throat, Kate set down her fork and picked up her teacup before leaning closer to Miss Nye. “Tell me honestly, ma’am, what do you think of these gentlemen? Mr. Otteridge and Mr. Newman.”
For a moment, Miss Nye’s eyes cleared, the semipermanent cloud of worry fading.
“Honestly? I don’t like Mr. Otteridge. He’s ambitious and never says what he means.
Mr. Newman is young and personable but equally ambitious.
I can’t imagine the former noticing a mere maidservant.
Newman would notice her femininity, not her. ”
Kate caught her breath. This was plain speaking with a vengeance. “How do you know I’m still talking about the maid?”
“The word is she collapsed. Why else do pretty maidservants collapse and then disappear?”
Kate nodded. She was impressed by Miss Nye’s grasp of events that seemed to have quite passed by the other guests.
And yet she was well aware that by her own questioning, she could have handed the weapon of scandal to “the other side.” Miss Nye’s brother was Tory, a purely temporary supporter on a single issue, who could turn on them quite easily over something else.
For the first time in her determined crusade for the truth, Kate felt she was floundering and dangerously out of her depth.
“I think more of you—and Lady Chadbon—for looking into it,” Miss Nye said, still surprising her.