Social Graces

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Social Graces Page 7

by Wendy Soliman


  Miss Larson looked surprised. ‘You were acquainted with my sister?’

  ‘A long time ago, when she was starting out.’

  ‘Ah, I see.’ Presumably the young woman had read of Olivia’s travails and would know that her first husband had been a theatrical agent. She had the delicacy not to refer to the matter. ‘Thank you, Lady Torbay.’ Miss Larson managed a brittle smile as her gaze wandered around the room, taking everything in and yet, Olivia suspected, barely seeing it. ‘I confess to feeling confused and, with the greatest possible respect, cannot begin to imagine what I am doing here. Mr Milton called at my grandmother’s because he represents Lord Chichester’s interests. He found me on the point of decamping, insisted upon offering me a lift and…well, here I find myself, inconveniencing you. I have not the least idea why, since he failed to share his reasons with me.’

  Olivia smiled. ‘Men can be terribly arrogant, always imagining they know what is best for us feeble females.’

  ‘I didn’t mean to criticise. Please excuse me. I have a tendency to say what is in my mind without pausing to think, which often lands me into trouble.’

  ‘Perhaps you should…criticise, I mean.’ Olivia leaned closer to her guest and lowered her voice to a collusive whisper, even though they were completely alone. ‘I criticise Lord Torbay all the time. It helps to remind him that he is not always right.’ She bit her lip to temper a smile. ‘I don’t believe anyone had ever dared to set him straight on any point before I came along.’

  ‘I would imagine not,’ Miss Larson said, probably wondering why a countess—a complete stranger—had chosen to confide in her. Olivia did so to put her at her ease. She was hardly revealing state secrets. Besides, she had taken a liking to the young woman, and sensed that she was in urgent need of a confidante.

  ‘May I ask why you intended to leave your grandmother’s house? Are you planning to return home?’

  ‘Certainly not.’ Miss Larson sat a little straighter and shuddered. ‘My father says he has no daughter named Constance and refuses to make the arrangements for her burial.’

  Olivia wrinkled her nose. ‘How very Christian of him.’

  ‘Quite so.’

  Miss Larson folded her hands in her lap, then unfolded them again and plucked abstractedly at the cheap fabric of her drab olive green skirts. In spite of her dull clothing, Olivia thought her a very pretty, opinionated and highly unusual young woman. One whom she would like to take under her wing. Motherhood was very fulfilling, but the year she had spent in Torbay, being fussed over and cossetted, had sometimes seemed like an eternity. Despite her concerns about showing herself in London society, she had missed the bustle of the capital, and more especially being involved in Jake’s cases. Just because she had given him an heir, it didn’t mean that she intended to be excluded from future investigations. She sensed that the murder of Miss Larson’s sister was about to turn into one such, even if Chichester proved to be the murderer—especially then—and she would make it clear to Jake at the earliest opportunity that she could be useful to him, given her knowledge of the theatrical world. If he attempted to exclude her to spare her feelings, she would soon point out the error of his ways.

  ‘No, I shall not return home.’ Miss Larson’s voice recalled Olivia’s wandering attention. ‘I intend to remain in my sister’s apartment until I find out what happened to her.’

  Olivia shot her an astounded look. ‘You cannot stay there!’

  ‘That is what Mr Milton said, but I really don’t have the luxury of choice. Besides, I am not squeamish, and someone has to sort out her things.’

  Tea and sandwiches were delivered. Olivia poured for them both and insisted upon her guest eating at least two sandwiches before they resumed their conversation. A little colour had returned to her cheeks by the time she had done so and she appeared to be more in command of herself.

  ‘How do you intend to conduct your investigation?’ Olivia asked.

  Miss Larson regarded Olivia over the rim of her cup and hesitated. ‘I don’t mean to appear impolite, Lady Torbay, especially when you have been so kind to me. But…well, you are probably friendly with Lord Chichester. It is he who sent Mr Milton to talk to me, I believe.’

  ‘Speaking personally, I cannot abide the man.’

  Miss Larson blinked. ‘You cannot? But I thought—’

  ‘You thought that the privileged classes closed ranks in such situations, I would imagine.’

  ‘Well, frankly yes.’

  ‘Then you couldn’t be more wrong.’ Olivia waved a hand in the air to emphasise her point. ‘Oh, I suppose a lot of them would. I say them because, like you, I come from the upper middle classes. But my husband does not and he is very much his own man. He has little time for Chichester, so if you want to get to the truth, we are the best people to have on your side.’

  ‘Oh, well I—’

  ‘But, forgive me, I am confused. Was it not you who informed Lord Chichester of your sister’s death? If you don’t like him, why did you do that?’

  ‘I wasn’t thinking straight. The porter and I had just found her, you see, and I was not in a good way. Our father had disowned Connie, and Chichester was the only person I could think of to inform. But once I recovered from the shock and I remembered the porter saying that only Chichester had been to her rooms that night, it occurred to me that he must be the guilty party. We have never actually met, but given the way he tried to control Connie, holding back her career, I advised her against remaining involved with him.’

  ‘I don’t know what my husband plans to do about this situation, but I do know that if you intend to remain in London for the foreseeable future then you must stay here with us.’

  ‘Here?’ She looked astounded. ‘I couldn’t possibly.’ She glanced down at her cheap gown and shook her head decisively. ‘Thank you so very much for the invitation. It is the kindest thing anyone has offered me in a very long time, but I did not come here in anticipation of receiving it and cannot accept.’

  ‘Nonsense! How will it seem if you take up residence in rooms paid for by the man you hope to expose as a murderer?’

  A short silence ensued as Miss Larson assessed the potential consequences of her intended living arrangements. She sighed. ‘I had not considered the matter in that light. Even so, it would not prevent me from asking probing questions, if that is what you mean to imply.’

  ‘I am sure it would not. But of whom would you ask them? You will not be admitted to Lord Chichester’s presence, and even if you were, you can hardly throw unsubstantiated accusations about.’ The door opened and Jake and Otto walked through it. ‘Ah, Jake, there you are. Just in time to convince Miss Larson that she must stay here with us until we get to the bottom of her sister’s murder.’

  ***

  Otto thought that Sophia, despite her indifferent clothing, looked very much at home in close conversation with Lady Torbay. The casual observer might have mistaken them for friends. He already understood enough about her character to know that she wouldn’t be unduly intimidated by the splendours of the house, but the speed with which she and Lady Torbay had become so easy together did surprise him. He glanced at Jake, who responded with a small shrug. He was both grateful and relieved to know that Sophia would be safe—once they had convinced her to accept Lady Torbay’s offer of hospitality, obviously.

  ‘Jake, this is Miss Larson. Miss Larson, my husband, the Earl of Torbay.’

  Miss Larson stood and bobbed a curtsey. Jake took her hand and smiled at her.

  ‘It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance,’ he said. ‘I wish it could be under happier circumstances. I saw your sister perform on several occasions and admired her talent. She will be greatly missed.’

  ‘Thank you, my lord. You are very kind.’

  ‘Kindness has nothing to do with the matter. I speak as I find.’

  Otto took a seat which offered him an unimpeded view of Sophia and sent her an encouraging smile. ‘Are you ready to accept that I am not
your enemy?’ he asked.

  She bridled at the implied criticism. ‘You can hardly blame me for looking upon you with suspicion, given that I did not know you from Adam when you breezed into my grandmother’s house, implying that you were Chichester’s lackey.’ Her eyes sparkled with hostility. ‘And given that you virtually abducted me and foisted me upon Lady Torbay, who has been far kinder to me than I have any right to expect.’

  ‘Would you have come if I had told you beforehand where we were going?’

  She looked away from him. ‘Probably not.’

  ‘Well, there you are then. Lord Torbay and I are going to make a few enquiries about your sister’s death. For your peace of mind, not Chichester’s. I already explained to that Chichester has taken it upon himself to dispense with our services and so we are no longer beholden to him in any way.’

  ‘Yes, you did say that, but…’

  ‘But you didn’t believe me?’

  ‘Well, you cannot blame me for that. I don’t know you.’

  ‘I hope you believe me now and will take up Lady Torbay’s offer and remain here where we know you will be safe.’

  ‘That’s not fair!’ She leaned forward, apparently forgetting that she was in the presence of an earl and countess, both of whom were watching the exchange with amused expressions. ‘I want to be involved. I have the right.’

  ‘But not the freedom to venture into the sort of places where we will need to go in order to ask our questions. It wouldn’t be safe for a woman on her own, and you wouldn’t be taken seriously even if it was.’ Otto held up his hands, palms towards her, to prevent the torrent of objections he sensed her formulating. ‘I don’t make the rules, Miss Larson, but I am trying to be of service to you, if only you will permit it.’

  ‘Your reasoned argument would make me seem lacking in gratitude were I to decline it, as I’m sure you are very well aware,’ she said, her acerbic tone tinged with a hint of defensiveness. It seemed only just to have occurred to her that she had agreed to be a temporary guest in the grand abode of very influential people and was probably still confused by their collective determination to help her.

  ‘Good,’ Lady Torbay said. ‘That’s settled then.’

  ‘If you are sure I will not inconvenience you, ma’am.’

  ‘Not in the least. I shall enjoy the company,’ Lady Torbay replied.

  ‘I do have one or two conditions, though,’ Miss Larson said, addressing Otto.

  Otto rolled his eyes. ‘That hardly comes as a surprise. What are they?’

  ‘That you keep me informed of your progress and consult me before taking any important decisions. I knew my sister better than any living person. Certainly better than Chichester,’ she added, disdainfully wrinkling her pert little nose. ‘People will say things, make accusations, cast aspersions upon her character, I dare say. Some will do so out of jealousy, others out of spite. And others still to protect themselves, or deflect attention elsewhere. My sister was far from perfect. She was ambitious and desperate to succeed rather than return home a failure and face our parents’ sanctimonious ire.’

  ‘Understandable,’ Lady Torbay said softly.

  ‘She was misled by people who put their own interests ahead of hers when she started out as an actress, and made other poor choices after she was established.’ She glanced away, and Otto knew she must be thinking of Chichester. ‘But I also know that her character wasn’t nearly as black as some will attempt to paint it. She had a good heart, was cleverer than most people realised, liked to enjoy herself but didn’t suffer fools gladly. Anyway, we corresponded regularly. She told me most things, and I know who she liked and disliked. Who she trusted and who she kept at arm’s length.’

  ‘They will keep us both informed,’ Lady Torbay assured her, patting her hand. She then sent her husband a teasing smile. ‘They will have both of us to answer to if they do not.’

  ‘Perish the thought!’ Jake said, shuddering in mock terror.

  ‘Precisely so,’ Lady Torbay replied with a satisfied smile.

  ‘That’s settled then,’ Jake said. ‘We will start our enquiries after luncheon, Otto. I do hope you will stay.’

  ‘Thank you. I should be delighted.’

  Miss Larson fixed Jake with a direct look. ‘Where will you start asking your questions?’

  ‘The porter at your sister’s lodgings seems like the most logical place.’

  ‘Oh him.’ She pursed her lips in evident disapproval. ‘A lazy fellow whose breath smelled strongly of liquor. He always took an unhealthy interest in my sister’s activities and I didn’t trust him. That is partly why I wanted to live in her rooms, if only to protect her possessions from his thieving fingers.’

  ‘Then we must assume his assertion that Chichester was your sister’s last visitor is not necessary accurate,’ Jake said mildly.

  ‘I suppose we must. I can hardly say that I don’t trust him and then take his word as gospel. Perhaps he killed her. He wasn’t nearly as shocked as I was when we found her, but then I have never seen anyone dead before.’ She swallowed and took a moment to recover her composure. ‘Especially someone who mattered to me so much. I dare say that horrible man—Stoker, his name is—has seen lots of dead people. How will you get him to tell you the truth about Connie’s visitors? If he left his post for any period of time, he is hardly likely to admit it for fear of being dismissed.’

  ‘Oh, he will tell us. Never doubt it,’ Otto replied confidently.

  ‘I had best accompany you.’ Sophia elevated her chin in a fashion designed to discourage argument. ‘I have the keys, but so does Stoker. I would like to remove some of Connie’s more valuable possessions before they disappear. Besides, there might be clues about things she didn’t tell me in her private papers.’

  ‘That is a reasonable assumption. I will come with you for moral support,’ Lady Torbay said. ‘Then we can return here and the gentlemen can resume their investigations. In that respect, they were about to tell us what they planned to do next.’

  Jake chuckled. ‘I cannot recall making that promise. Anyway, we intend to visit your sister’s agent, Miss Larson. If she was threatening to tour with Felsham’s company, he might have felt he was losing control of Miss Saville. I dare say she was his most important client, and he would have been worried about her being lured away from him.’

  ‘But Felsham and Barton were friends, I thought,’ Lady Torbay remarked, frowning. ‘I got the impression from Chichester that Barton encouraged Connie to consider Felsham’s offer on the grounds that it would expose her to more audiences. Of course, I expect he had been promised a share of the profits, but still…’

  ‘Friends and business arrangements don’t mix well, and often spell the end of the friendships in question,’ Jake replied. ‘Anyway, we have yet to establish how far Barton would have gone to protect his asset. And, for that matter, what other directions he can point us in. Killing her wouldn’t have benefitted him, logically speaking, but perhaps if he were driven to anger… Are you aware of your sister receiving threats, or of anyone in particular making a nuisance of himself, Miss Larson?’

  ‘I came to see her yesterday partly because she said she had something to tell me. Something that she was excited about but which she couldn’t commit to paper.’

  ‘You have no idea what it might have been?’ Otto asked.

  ‘No, but I assumed she was in line for a hotly-contested lead in a new production.’ She sighed. ‘But now I shall never know for sure.’

  ‘I’m sorry,’ Lady Torbay said softly.

  ‘Did she know you would be coming up to London?’ Jake asked.

  ‘She was expecting me. She didn’t have a performance and so we would have had the evening to ourselves. She assured me that Lord Chichester would not disturb us.’

  ‘What time did you arrive?’

  ‘Just after five in the afternoon.’

  ‘And the doorman claims not to have seen your sister that day,’ Otto said. ‘Five hours unaccoun
ted for between Chichester leaving and your arrival.’

  ‘Only imagine if I had not been there.’ Sophia swiped at her eyes with the back of her hand. ‘How long would she have lain there…unmissed and—’

  ‘Hush, don’t upset yourself,’ Lady Torbay said, patting Sophia’s shoulder.

  ‘She made a habit out of caution,’ Sophia said, snuffling. ‘She used me as a confidante but told me once that she worried I would inadvertently write something that would harm her if she was too candid.’

  ‘What do you mean?’ Lady Torbay asked before Otto could.

  ‘Oh, I beg your pardon. I should have made myself clear.’ Sophia sat a little straighter. ‘I make a few shillings by writing articles for the newspapers. Well, one particular newspaper, but I doubt whether you subscribe to the Scorpion. Either opinions…’ She paused to smother a smile. ‘Opinions that question governmental decisions, or else pieces related to the theatre, thanks to the inside stories that Connie fed me.’

  A slow smile spread across Otto’s face. ‘I have read your work,’ he said. ‘You are S.S. Larson.’

  ‘Indeed I am.’ She treated him to a condescending smile. ‘Not a bad achievement for an ignorant female, would you not agree, Mr Milton?’

  Chapter Six

  Sophia took her place at the table in Lord Torbay’s magnificent dining room, feeling like a badly dressed poor relation. Her aristocratic hosts pretended not to notice that she didn’t belong and went out of their way to draw her into conversation.

  ‘Tell me about your journalistic endeavours, Miss Larson,’ Lord Torbay invited. ‘How did that situation come about?’

  ‘I have two brothers, both older than me by some years. They are, and I know this will sound disloyal, but—’ She paused, conscious of all three of her dining companions avidly observing her. Would they think less of her if she spoke the truth? She was unable to decide, but since they had asked… ‘The fact of the matter is that they are dull, lack ambition and share my parent’s outmoded views. They are both married with children, live in cottages on Papa’s farm and help him to manage it. They none of them tolerate disobedience and my father in particular looks upon his word as law.’

 

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