A Lady's Guide to Gossip and Murder

by Dianne Freeman

  Charles shook his head. “No, nothing so big. What about Mrs. Archer’s house?”

  “Mary’s house?” Archer’s brow furrowed. “What about it?”

  I was as confused as Archer, but something told me not to stop Charles this time.

  “Well, I rather like the place, and the houses in that neighborhood are not leasehold, are they? She owned it outright, did she not?”

  “She did.” Archer dropped his hands to his lap and leaned back. “Am I to understand you’re interested in purchasing it? Surely you’re not thinking of living there yourself?”

  Charles bristled at his tone. “It’s hardly a poor neighborhood, and quite a nice little place it was, too. Mrs. Archer was happy there.”

  As his stroke of brilliance waned, I thought it best if I gave him some support before Archer saw through his ruse. “But you were not thinking of living there yourself.” I turned to Archer. “Because he has such fond memories of Mary, and her home, he intended to buy it and lease it to a young couple he knows and wishes to assist.” I placed a hand on Charles’s arm. “It’s a lovely idea, Cousin Charles. So much nicer than if an investor bought it and chopped it up into flats.”

  I addressed Archer before he could speak. “Do you happen to be the executor of Mary’s estate by chance?”

  He sputtered a bit before replying. “No, I do not have that honor. Mr. Carr, her sister’s husband, is her executor. But I advise you to think twice about buying that house. There has been a murder there. You might have some difficulty selling the place in the future.”

  Charles waved off the concern. “I’d like to take another look at the place in any event.” He turned to me. “Perhaps you might contact Mrs. Carr.”

  “Certainly. There’s no damage that you are aware of, is there, Mr. Archer? Have you been to her house recently?”

  “Of course not. What business would I have there?” His eyes had widened in surprise at the question, but he made a quick recovery of his poker face. He stood, indicating this meeting was at an end. “If you decide you wish to open an account, Lady Harleigh, I’ll be happy to assist you.”

  Charles and I came to our feet as well. I extended a hand to Archer, which he shook, sparing only a nod and a glare for Charles.

  We remained silent until we were tucked inside another cab and on our way back to my house. “Shame we couldn’t get him to tell us why he tried to break into Mary’s house.”

  “I hardly think he would have confessed what he was after. But the fact that he denied going there at all tells us he had no legitimate reason for attempting to break in.”

  He raised his brows. “Ah, I suppose it does at that.”

  “And since he now expects you to visit the house yourself, he might just attempt it again. We should warn Mr. Hazelton.”

  “Excellent notion,” he said. “All things considered then, I’d say this was a good morning’s work.”

  I considered Gordon Archer. The fact that he had tried to break into Mary’s house, and his disdain for his sister-in-law, told me he was up to something. Or at least he had been. It wasn’t necessarily murder, but George was right—Archer had something to hide.

  * * *

  Charles saw me to my door, then went off to take care of some business of his own. I slipped inside and peeked into the drawing room. Delightfully empty. Hetty, Lottie, and Graham were undoubtedly in the library but they were unlikely to need anything from me. I fairly skipped up the stairs, removing my hat in the process. Once I’d dropped it off in my room, I could return to the drawing room and spend a little leisure time with the post, or perhaps a book. Yes, I did need to write another column or two but surely, I could take some time for myself.

  “There you are.”

  I jumped at the words and turned to see Lily peeking out her bedchamber door. The vision of a quiet hour on my own quickly dissolved.

  “Heavens, Lily, you startled me. Have you been waiting for me?”

  I opened the door, and she followed me into my bedchamber. Stalked might actually have been a better word. I definitely felt hunted. I dropped my hat on the bed and turned to face her, surprised to see her leaning against the door frame with her arms crossed over her chest.

  “Frances, you have barely participated in planning this engagement party at all. I’m beginning to wonder if you even plan to attend.”

  My spirits sagged at the prospect of the argument about to take place. In all honesty, with Mary’s murder, Delaney’s suspicions of Charles, and the subsequent investigation, I had all but forgotten about the engagement party.

  I walked around her to my dressing table and seated myself. “In my defense, Lily, I have been rather busy lately.”

  “But this is my engagement party.” Lily strode toward me, hands on her hips and a scowl on her face. “This is very important to me.”

  I raised a brow. “Need I remind you this is also the party that was not supposed to take place for at least a few months? Now I have to be ready for it in less than two weeks. It’s hardly my fault I’m in the midst of a murder investigation.”

  She plopped onto the bed and threw me a glare. “Why are you investigating this murder anyway? You’re a countess, for goodness’ sake. Society is your milieu, not the seedy underworld of criminals.”

  “A friend of mine has been murdered. She was neither seedy nor involved in this underworld you speak of. Whatever that is. Mr. Hazelton asked for my help. How could I say no?”

  “Mr. Hazelton is just trying to indulge you. You cannot possibly be helping him, so you ought to get back to doing what you’re good at.”

  Well, that stung. “Do you not think it possible I may have more than one talent? Perhaps I don’t find planning society events all that fulfilling anymore. Besides, it seems to me that you have everything well in hand.”

  Lily’s scowl collapsed into a quivering lip. “Maybe I do, but that doesn’t mean I don’t want your approval, or your advice. Maybe I just want my sister to support me.”

  Oh, dear. I stepped over to the bed and sank down next to her, pulling her into my arms. “Poor dear,” I murmured. “Of course you want support. Marriage is an enormous step. I don’t think it’s the party you are worried about at all.”

  “Well, as Leo’s wife I’ll have to entertain and I want him to see that I know what I’m doing. If the party is a disaster, his mother will assume I’m a disaster and so will he.”

  “Lily, you’re just starting out in your new life and there’s something you should know.” I backed away to make sure she paid attention. “There are bound to be disasters.”

  She sniffed. “Not if I plan properly.”

  I shushed her. “No matter how well you plan. Disasters are a fact of life. Just accept it. Yes, you can and should plan carefully, but you are dealing with humans and they all have their own lives, plans, and needs. There’s no telling what can happen when you gather a group of them together. The important thing to remember is when disaster strikes you must face it with aplomb. You cannot fall apart.”

  “That is not very reassuring, Frances. In fact, I’m even more nervous.”

  “Don’t be. I’ll be with you and so will Leo’s mother. Leo will be at your side, too, and together you can face down any disaster. Before long they won’t seem like disasters to you but rather minor irritations.”

  “Really?”

  “I promise you. Now, I admit I have been neglecting you but I have some free time at the moment. Why don’t you get your diary and we’ll go over your preparations?”

  She glanced up at me through watery eyes. I’d forgotten how important it was to do everything right at her age. And how certain I was I’d do everything wrong. “Thank you, Frances. I truly do want your help.”

  She gave me a hug and made as if to leave; stopping at the door, she turned back. “And I don’t think Mr. Hazelton is just indulging you. I’m sure you’re helping him.”

  I gave her a smile as she left, then went to the mirror to smooth my hair. Lily had
put an end to both my private time and my peace of mind. I did believe I was helping to move this case along, but there was definitely a possibility George was pandering to my sense of adventure, my sense of curiosity. I knew he was trying to win my affection. No, he must know he already had that, but he was trying to coax me into marriage. And he was going about it in the best of ways—by including me in his life and his work. But was that the only reason he included me? And more importantly—did it matter?

  Lily and I worked on her plans for the engagement party until Mrs. Thompson scratched lightly on the door and informed me Mr. Evingdon and Mr. Hazelton awaited us downstairs. I knew they were coming to dinner. Was it that late already?

  We put away Lily’s notes and met the gentlemen in the drawing room, where I dug into Hetty’s supply of spirits. I’d have to alert Mrs. Thompson that the brandy was running low. Instead, I poured each of us a small tot of whiskey—a fine single malt, Hetty had called it. She and Lottie joined us shortly, and not long after, we were informed dinner was ready.

  We didn’t stand on ceremony so George took a seat next to me at the table. “Evingdon told me things went reasonably well with Archer today,” he said once the fish course was served. “What is your opinion?”

  “It was not as productive as I would have liked,” I said, swirling a bite of sole into the cream sauce with my fork. “We never had the opportunity to bring up Mary’s column. But Archer did lie when we asked if he had visited her house lately. That seemed promising. And he was decidedly nervous when Charles questioned him about the disposition of the house.”

  He gave Charles a nod of approval. “Well, now. That’s very interesting.”

  “It leads me to wonder if Mary had some scandalous story about him and he was hoping to retrieve it.”

  “But we have all Mrs. Archer’s documents,” Lottie said.

  “Do we?” I cast George a sidelong glance. “Perhaps you should go through her house.”

  “I’d consider doing so if that constable would ever move on. The man is nothing if not conscientious.”

  “Must be angling for a promotion,” Charles suggested.

  “What about Charles’s idea? I could contact Louise and tell her he is interested in buying or leasing the house. Perhaps her husband could arrange for him to have a look at it.” I lifted my shoulder in a casual shrug. “She wouldn’t consider it strange if you and I were to accompany him.”

  Lily leaned around George to send a beaming smile at me. “Good work, Franny. That is a decidedly devious idea.”

  “Indeed,” George said. “It may be our only way inside.”

  “Thank you both for your confidence. It’s only an idea, but I’ll be happy to contact her if you like.”

  I’d dropped my hands to my lap. George slipped his hand over them and squeezed. “Please do. Once inside, I’m sure we can manage some type of search.”

  Our conversation shifted to the weather as Jenny swept in to remove the remains of the fish course and bring in our entrée. Once she left the room, we returned to the business at hand.

  “So, you learned nothing else from Archer?”

  “He wants to put Frances into a five percent annuity,” Charles said with a chuckle.

  Hetty’s brows rose at that. “From my understanding, that’s a far more conservative investment than he normally recommends.”

  “I was rather disappointed his suggestion for me was so dull. What were Graham’s dealings with him, Aunt Hetty?”

  She glanced around the table. “I suppose I needn’t worry about any of you discussing it outside this room. Archer convinced Graham to invest in a fledgling company involved in shipping between Britain and South America.”

  George cocked his head to the side. “Convinced him?”

  “That may be stating the case too strongly, but he indicated the earl could triple his investment in a year.” Hetty released her breath in a huff.

  It didn’t sound as though this story would end well. “Did Graham lose money?”

  “He lost everything. What’s worse, he doesn’t even have a prospectus on the company. I asked Leo’s father if he’d heard of them.” She shook her head. “He hadn’t, but he promised to see what he could find out about them. To be honest, I think Archer knew the company was questionable at best and wanted to share the risk.”

  “Hugo Ridley told me Gordon Archer was on top of all the latest investments. After speaking to Archer today, I learned if you want a large profit you must take some risks. It sounds as though this risk did not pay off.”

  Hetty released a sharp, bitter laugh. “No, this was an absolute failure, but I still want some information on the company. If they were insured, their investors should be able to recover something. But Graham is unwilling to contact Archer.”

  “It’s that aristocratic pride,” Charles commented. “Like when a gentleman loses a fortune at the card table he must act as though it’s nothing more than a minor nuisance. No matter if he has to lease out his family home and go live in a hut in the woods. Pride must come first.”

  “Gentlemen can be so ridiculous about such things,” I said. “But at least when playing cards, one is aware one is gambling. Did Graham not question the risks of this investment?”

  Hetty tipped her head in my direction, her brows raised. “Come now, Frances, you must know yourself Graham has no business sense. If a man with Archer’s success tells him he’ll make a fortune on an investment, he won’t concern himself with something as minor as risk.”

  Sadly, it had been my experience Hetty’s pronouncement was all too true. Graham knew agriculture and very little else, which was why he was relying on Hetty to put his affairs in order.

  Lottie turned the conversation to Lily’s engagement party, allowing me to ponder what I’d learned about Gordon Archer. He’d tried to break into Mary’s house. What had he been after? Was it possible Mary had some gossip about his more dubious investments? I wondered if it would be wise to see if anyone else had lost a great deal of money with Archer.

  My musings were interrupted by another touch of George’s hand on mine. I turned to find him smiling down on me.

  “I delivered your columns yesterday,” he said quietly as the group talked around us. “And was told you are not abiding by your contracted schedule.”

  I blinked. “Odd. I wasn’t aware I had either a contract or a schedule.”

  “Apparently on Tuesdays Mrs. Archer delivered columns for Wednesday through Friday. As you provided only a column for today and Thursday, Mr. Mosley maintains you owe him one more column.”

  “Heavens, that sounds a great deal like nit-picking to me. I was already dreading working on the next set of columns for him, but now I must produce one tonight?”

  He gave me a one-shoulder shrug. “They have a schedule to adhere to, and from what Mosley told me, you are sending the printers into a tizzy. If you think you can write one this evening, I promised to deliver it tomorrow.”

  I frowned, resigned to my fate. “Very well. I’m sure I can write something suitable for you to take, but only if you tell me why you’re whispering.”

  “I like whispering to you. It allows me to believe we are sharing intimate secrets.”

  I felt the heat rise to my face.

  He leaned closer. “I also like making you blush.”

  I huffed. “You are rather an expert at it.”

  “Why, thank you, Frances. I do my best.”

  I felt the urge to giggle and determined I must put a stop to his teasing before my brain was completely befuddled. “You’re getting carried away, George. After all, we aren’t sharing secrets now. Everyone at this table knows Lottie and I are writing this column. Your imagination has run away with you.”

  His smile widened as he squeezed my hand. “Ah, but it’s my imagination, and if it wants to run, why should you stop it?” He heaved a dramatic sigh. “And after I was kind enough to bring you a gift from Mr. Mosley.”

  That came as a surprise. “After dema
nding more columns, he sends me a gift?”

  He reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a thick envelope, laying it next to my plate. I nudged it with my fork, suspicious of this “gift.”

  “It won’t bite you,” he said. “You are perfectly safe in opening it.”

  By now the main courses had been removed and the fruit and cheese served. Several pairs of attentive eyes turned in my direction.

  “I know what it is,” Lottie stated. “Letters from admirers of your column.”

  I glanced at George. He shrugged. “They are letters from readers.”

  “Heavens, from one column? Well, then they are as much yours as mine, Lottie.” I smiled at the girl and passed them across the table to her. “After all, you came up with the notion of teasers.”

  She giggled and opened the envelope. Three letters were enclosed. “We are correct,” she said, grinning widely and holding the pages up for all to see. “They are all addressed to Miss Information.”

  “How intriguing to have a pseudonym,” George said.

  Lottie read the first letter. “This reader takes exception to the characterization of Lord W in last Thursday’s column.”

  “Ah, not one of ours,” I said.

  “Wasn’t he the man who had drunkenly waded into the Serpentine?” Charles asked. “How else would one characterize him?”

  Amid our laughter Lottie opened the next missive. Her frown dampened our merriment. “What is it, dear?”

  Raising her gaze from the page, she handed it across to me. It was unsigned and held just a few words, scratched into the paper. The nib of the pen had actually broken through the stiff parchment in a few places. The words read I know who you are!

  Chapter 16

  Louise hesitated on the front porch of Mary’s home after turning the key and pushing the door open. I stepped to one side of the door with her, motioning for George and Charles to enter without us. Mr. Carr had been unable to join us so Louise had stepped up to the task. I hoped this wasn’t too difficult for her.

  “I can wait in the carriage with you, if you’d rather not go in,” I said, placing what I hoped was a comforting hand on her arm.