He snapped around to face me, brows raised in question.
“That was your second theory, wasn’t it? I stole the bracelet?”
I watched his expression turn from surprise, to assessment, to amusement. My face grew hot. I didn’t see anything amusing. Finally he gave me an ironic smile. “Let’s just say, that’s no longer a strong theory.”
“I would hope not. Obviously the thief was here, searching for the bracelet.” I raised my brows in question. “Or do you think I staged this scene for your benefit?”
Delaney shook his head as he looked around at the mess. “A possibility, I suppose, but I can’t imagine you creating this much damage, no.” He moved over to the broken window, stepping carefully over randomly discarded combs, gloves, and articles of clothing. The window opened out to a small balcony on the back side of the house, facing the garden. “Looks like a sturdy trellis out here. You might want to have that removed.”
“I suppose that’s how he came in,” I said, watching him examine the door. “This is all very confusing. Why would he assume I’d still have the bracelet? If I hadn’t been so busy yesterday, Bridget would have brought it to my attention sooner, and I would have returned it then. I had believed the thief was a gentleman, but this makes me wonder. Any gentleman would expect my maid to find the bracelet, realize it wasn’t mine, and ask me about it.”
Delaney was now looking over the balcony. “Perhaps he expected you to keep it. Despite the fact that several of you had learned the bracelet was stolen, it wasn’t exactly bandied about the ballroom at the time, was it? Mrs. Stoke-Whitney kept that quiet.”
“Yes, I suppose she did.” I tried to follow his line of reasoning. “So when I found the bracelet in my reticule, I might not have known to whom it belonged, or how to return it. Even so, I would hardly leave it in my bedroom. It would be locked in my safe.”
Delaney poked his head back through the door. “Did you check the safe?”
“But the bracelet isn’t in the safe.”
“We know that. But the thief doesn’t.”
Oh! I called for Bridget, gave her the key, and instructed her to check the contents of the safe, although I told myself it would be a remote possibility anything would be gone. When I turned back to the room, Delaney had left the balcony, and was shaking out one of my gowns.
I rolled my eyes from impatience. “I employ servants who can do that.”
He didn’t stop, or even look up. Instead he seemed to be fluffing up some trim on the neckline of the dress. “No need to worry, Lady Harleigh, I’m not trying to replace your lady’s maid.”
Then it hit me. “I see, something belonging to the thief might have caught on one of the gowns—a ring, or button, or something else that might identify him.”
“Only a possibility, but it would be foolish to dismiss it.”
I agreed, and reached for a gown myself, giving it a good shake. “I feel the same about the safe, you know. Breaking in here to search for the bracelet is one thing, but proceeding through the rest of the house in the hope of finding a safe would be far too risky.”
Nothing had fallen from the gown so I draped it over a chair and moved on to the next one. “Surely he wouldn’t be that desperate, would he? He’s been rather successful thus far. Why not give this item up as lost and go on to steal something else?”
Delaney answered with a grunt, or maybe it was a growl. In any event it was no language I was familiar with. “Well?” I prompted.
He turned with a sigh and gave me a look I hadn’t seen in quite some time. It was Reggie’s look, and he used it whenever I asked too many questions. It was usually followed by Reggie rising from his seat and leaving the room. How unfortunate for the inspector that he couldn’t leave. I returned The Look with my brightest smile. “Is it so difficult to discuss this with me, Inspector? I told you all about my theories this morning. What are yours?”
“Too many to mention, ma’am. Is he desperate enough to search your home? I don’t know. He broke in here in the first place. That seems desperate to me. I can’t say until I understand his motive.”
“Wouldn’t it be money?”
“Ah, but you believe the thief is a gentleman.”
I shrugged. “Gentlemen need money, too.”
Delaney let a short blast of breath escape his pursed lips. He turned toward me and placed a hand on his hip, a gown still clutched in his fist. A sense of dread rushed through me. Had I done something wrong?
“I believe you were rather coy with me this morning,” he said. “When I asked if you had any enemies. Is there something I should know?”
He righted the chair to the dressing table and placed it in front of me. I took a deep breath and seated myself. Delaney stood before me, his hands clasped.
“Perhaps,” I said. “But I don’t see how it could have anything to do with this crime.” I looked up to meet his eyes. “My late husband’s brother has been making my life difficult lately. My father gifted me with some funds that were meant to be for my sole use, but the earl claims the money belongs to the family. He’s filed a suit in court, so the account has been frozen.”
His brows rose in question. “So you have no money?”
I let out a groan as I imagined his mind moving back to theory number two, and my guilt. “Actually, my mother has recently provided me with some funds, so I expect to remain solvent until our disagreement is resolved. Even if that were not the case, the account was frozen only a few days ago, so I had no motive for the first two thefts.”
I paused, wondering if I needed to provide an alibi, then realized I had one. “I wasn’t even in town until a week ago, so I couldn’t have robbed the Haverhills.”
“But this latest crime was different. It’s quite possible the bracelet wasn’t stolen by the original thief.”
That took the wind out of my sails. “How was it different?”
He spread his hands wide as if the answer were obvious. “It was unsuccessful. The thief didn’t get caught, but neither does he have the bracelet. Either the same criminal made a mistake, or someone else had the brilliant idea of copying him.”
“What is this, Inspector? Some cat-and-mouse game? Are we back to the theory that I am the guilty party?”
“No, my lady. Not you. But what of the earl? Is it impossible to think he might wish to ruin your reputation, to improve his chance of winning his lawsuit?”
Graham? Impossible was the perfect word. “No,” I said. “I cannot believe that of him. Nor can I believe he dislikes me to such an extent. He may want what is mine, but he could never want to hurt me in such a way.”
Delaney did not appear convinced. His eyes held a touch of pity as if I were fooling myself. I found that sentiment rather annoying. “You should trust my judgment on this point, Inspector. Even if I considered the earl capable of plotting such a scheme against me, the idea of causing a scandal would stop him. I am still a member of the Wynn family. Any scandal he brings down on me, he brings down on his own head.”
“The reward might be worth the risk,” he said, his voice calm and sure.
I gave him a withering look. “If the reward is my bank account, it is not that great, I assure you. And if Graham wanted me to be found with the bracelet, why break in here to get it back?”
The detective’s lips compressed into a thin line, as he considered my words. His eyes seemed rather kindly as he gazed back at me.
He gave me a quick nod. “You could be right.”
I’m not sure why, but I was overwhelmed with relief at his pathetic vote of confidence.
“I’m sure you’re curious,” he began casually, “as to what sparked the sudden interest in your husband’s death.”
The change of subject threw me off balance. “If I remember correctly, you said you didn’t know.”
“A slight prevarication. In truth, I hadn’t the authority to share that information with you. I was there only to ask my questions and of course observe your reaction.”
&nb
sp; I leaned forward in anticipation. “I assume my reaction must have been appropriate because I sense you are about to share that information with me now.”
Delaney gave me a grim smile. “It isn’t your reaction, but the events that are happening now, that have me wondering if you are not as much a victim as your husband.”
I gasped. “Then Reggie really was murdered?”
“Forgive me, ma’am.” He held up a hand to calm me. “We don’t know that yet.” Turning aside, he ran a hand through his hair, leaving a few strands standing straight up. When he faced me again, it seemed he’d made a decision.
“Let me start at the beginning. Police often receive anonymous letters. People may have information about a crime, you see. But they don’t want to involve themselves.” He raised a fuzzy brow. “Do you follow me?”
I nodded. “I suppose I can understand that.”
“The Guildford police received one just this week about the late earl. The writer implied your husband did not die by natural causes, and that they suspected you as the murderess.”
There was a sudden ringing in my ears as the blood rushed to my head. I barely heard Delaney say, “Might your brother-in-law have sent that letter?” Foolishly I tried to stand. I must have looked a little wobbly, because Delaney reached out and caught me just as my knees gave way and I pitched toward the floor.
I don’t think I actually fainted since I could see and hear everything that was happening. That is, I could hear anything louder than the high-pitched ringing inside my head. Delaney called for assistance, then hoisted me in his arms, and carried me over to the bed. By this time the room had come back into focus, and I saw his intent. “Not on the gowns,” I cried, but just then Bridget came rushing into the room, sweeping them aside a moment before Delaney set me down.
Aunt Hetty peeked through the doorway. “What on earth is going on here?”
“The countess was overcome, but she’s recovered now,” Delaney responded.
“Yes,” I said, rolling into an upright position. “Just let me catch my breath, Aunt Hetty.” Bridget was staring into my face as she helped me swing my legs over the side of the bed. “Perhaps a cup of tea, my lady?”
“Excellent idea, Bridget.” Then I remembered her earlier task and caught her arm before she moved away. “Did you check the safe?”
“Oh, yes.” She pulled the key from her pocket and handed it to me. “Everything was as it should be.”
As Bridget left for the tea, Hetty stepped over and took my hand. “If you’re feeling better now, let’s move you over to the chair by the table. It will be much easier for you to have your tea.”
I looked up at Delaney who was standing some distance from the bed, looking a bit shame-faced. “I apologize for shocking you, my lady. Clumsy of me.”
“What’s happened to this room?” Hetty helped me to the chair and turned to glare at Delaney. “And why are you back here?”
“I sent for him,” I said, and gave Hetty the few details I knew about the break-in. She’d been visiting with Mr. Hazelton for the past hour, and Lily was out riding with Ainsworthy.
“Alone? You were supposed to be with her. Why do you think I made sure you’d be here when he called?”
“She’s not alone,” Hetty explained with exaggerated patience. “I sent Jenny with her. The viscount was waiting with his carriage when Lily and I returned from the library. We were a little late, and it looked as though his horses were eager to be off. Jenny had just opened the door for us, so I sent her on with Lily, while I took our books inside. Then I went next door to see Hazelton.” She placed her fisted hands on her hips and leaned over me. “Now stop trying to distract me and tell me why you fainted.”
Oh, yes, that. “Inspector Delaney has just informed me why they are looking into Reggie’s death again. Someone wrote to the police, implying I may have murdered him.”
“A poison pen letter.” Her voice held a hefty amount of venom.
“We were just discussing that possibility.” I turned to Delaney, who appeared to be trying to hide a smile. “What do you do when you receive such a letter?”
“Just what we have done, attempt to determine its veracity. As I told you on my last visit, the doctor won’t call for an autopsy without your permission. Unless the Guildford police have enough evidence to request an autopsy through the court, there’s little more they can do. It takes more than one anonymous letter to exhume the body of an earl. More important to me now is, who wrote that letter.”
“And you suspect my brother-in-law?”
Hetty gasped.
“Someone is trying very hard to make you look guilty of something, whether it be jewel theft or murder.”
“I thought the fact of the break-in ruled out the chance that someone wanted me to be found with the bracelet.”
Delaney shrugged. “You ruled it out. I didn’t. Think of it. The thief breaks in here and makes a mess. You call me and in my search, I find the bracelet. You still look guilty.”
I considered his words while Bridget brought in the tea service. “That seems like a great deal of trouble to go through.”
“But effective, if you hadn’t already returned the bracelet.”
Delaney declined the offer of tea, and returned to shaking out my gowns, this time with Hetty’s help. Although with all the questions she asked she was more of a hindrance. Over the next twenty minutes, I gave her the details about the stolen bracelet, and advised her that the inspector was also the inquiry agent who would be looking into the background of Lily’s young men.
“Goodness,” she said, staring at Delaney. “Are you the only member of the Metropolitan Police?”
“Please don’t burden Lily with any of this, Aunt Hetty. I suppose we should tell her about the break-in, but I don’t want word getting around about the bracelet being here.”
“Is she aware you’re investigating her suitors?” Delaney asked.
I chewed on my lip. “Yes, but she doesn’t know you’ll be investigating them in relation to the thefts. And that reminds me, Inspector, a footman in Mrs. Stoke-Whitney’s employ claims to have information about one of the gentlemen on our list. He delivered a note through my maid, saying he’d like to meet with me tomorrow.”
I pulled the note from my reticule and handed it over to him. His brow furrowed as he read it. “I’d like to be here when you meet him.”
I frowned, disliking the idea. “He may not be as forthcoming if you’re here. In fact I’m quite sure he won’t be, else he would have spoken to you about it while you were at the Stoke-Whitney home this morning.”
“He probably chose to speak to you, Frances, because he expects some type of payment,” Hetty said, still shaking gowns.
“And I’ll gladly pay for any pertinent information he may be able to provide.”
“Consider also, Lady Harleigh, he may have information he may not want you to know. Perhaps he wants this investigation stopped and is coming here with the intention of threatening or harming you.”
Well! I hadn’t considered that.
“With all that’s happened to you lately, you would be foolish to put your trust in this footman. You’d be taking a dangerous risk in meeting him alone.”
“I appreciate your caution, Inspector, but from a practical view, can you afford to give up an entire afternoon waiting for him? He doesn’t say at what time he’ll call. I’ll have my aunt with me, and my staff nearby. What harm could come to me? And I promise to share with you anything he tells me. Will that set your mind at ease?”
“With all due respect to you, ma’am”—he nodded at Hetty—“a footman is usually tall and strong. You would not provide adequate protection. And while I can’t forfeit an entire afternoon, I can post a constable here for that time. In fact, I was planning to post one on the street anyway because of the burglary.”
I was already shaking my head, but Aunt Hetty spoke up before I had a chance to respond.
“George Hazelton,” she said. “He c
an give up an afternoon, and I’m sure he’d be happy to do so. He can be here as a deterrent, should the footman pose a problem, but he should not keep the man from speaking freely.”
My protest of this plan went unheeded, while Delaney and Hetty discussed it, as if I weren’t even there. Poor Mr. Hazelton was about to be dragged into yet another of my problems.
Chapter 11
“Ah, here you are.” I was surprised to see my sister ensconced in the window seat of the small library I used as an office. A few weak rays of morning sun cast a glow on Lily’s blond head, making her seem somewhat ethereal, but the glow in her eyes, and her smile, had been there for the past two days. I wondered if she was simply enjoying herself, or if young love was blooming. Was that possible in so few days?
Lily’s pencil was sweeping across her sketch pad. “Have you been drawing all morning?” I asked.
“No, actually, I just finished a letter to one of my friends back home, telling her how wonderful you’ve been to me and how much fun I’m having.” She looked up long enough to send a beaming smile my way.
Now that I was sitting at my desk, I did indeed see the evidence of Lily’s work here. I opened a drawer in search of something I could use to wipe up a small puddle of ink from the blotter before I managed to run my sleeve through it. “That’s lovely, dearest. I’m happy to see you enjoying yourself.” I settled on a sheet of paper, folded it in half, and pressed it into the puddle.
“In fact,” she continued, “while I was writing to her, I had a wonderful idea.” Lily scrambled from the window seat and pulled up a chair to the opposite side of the desk. “Until Father’s fortunes turn for the better, why don’t you make your own fortune, bringing New York girls out in London society?”
This was a wonderful idea? “Are you suggesting I become some sort of matchmaker?”
“Of course not. Just sponsor other young ladies like me. Look how well you’ve done so far. Already, three gentlemen are courting me, you’re making sure they’re eligible, and I’m sure one of them will propose soon.”
A Lady's Guide to Etiquette and Murder Page 12