A Lady's Guide to Etiquette and Murder

by Dianne Freeman

  George had no news on Mr. Kendrick as of yet, and could learn little about the viscount, beyond his general amiability, and the fact that he was slow in settling his accounts.

  George was in complete agreement with his sister on the danger of revealing my suspicions to either man. “You must proceed with caution,” he said. “If your theory is correct, Capshaw threatened to blackmail one of these men in the morning, and was dead by the afternoon. That means one of them did the deed himself.”

  I looked up at him through the feathers curving over the side of my head and resisted the urge to blow them out of the way. “Are you saying one of them is a cold-blooded killer, or that my theory is wrong?”

  “If only I knew for sure. The premise seems reasonable to me, so I’m leaning toward the former—cold-blooded killer. Be careful. And make sure I’m nearby when you speak to them.”

  So maybe Fiona wasn’t completely to blame for my nerves. I scanned the room as we arrived. About twenty guests were gathered here, chatting in groups of three or four. I saw Grayson standing near a window, speaking with two gentlemen I didn’t recognize. George and I strolled over to the group to join the conversation. It galled me to speak to the man after last night, but I suppose it was all in the line of duty. He cast nervous glances at me as we approached. Good. He deserved to be uncomfortable. I gave myself a “buck up” speech and jumped right in when Grayson mentioned his despair that spring would ever warm up.

  “I’m perhaps not as fond of warm weather as you, Mr. Grayson, for I find these cooler temperatures perfect for long strolls in the park. You live near Green Park, do you not?”

  “I do,” he agreed with a pleasant smile, “but as I prefer to ride rather than walk, I’ve ignored Green Park lately. I usually make my way over to Hyde Park for a run on the row.”

  “Ah, yes. In fact, I believe I saw you there Thursday afternoon.”

  Grayson smiled and shook his head. “The park is far too crowded in the afternoon. I always ride in the morning.”

  I gave him a tight smile. “But I was certain it was you. Come now, you needn’t feel badly that you ignored me.”

  “You must be mistaken, Lady Harleigh. How could anyone ignore you?”

  I waved away his protest as if it were of no matter. “As I recall, you were with a lovely young lady. Completely understandable your attention would be on her.”

  “The only woman to hold my attention is your lovely sister,” Grayson said, his gaze darting to his friends, in a desperate plea for confirmation. The two young men quickly turned their attention to another group nearby. “I assure you I was at Brooks’s Thursday afternoon. You must have seen someone else.”

  It was refreshing to see the arrogant man floundering a bit but I was finished with him. “I suppose if you were at Brooks’s, I must be mistaken.” I glanced at George and received a wink in return. He’d follow up on the young man’s whereabouts.

  I let Grayson rattle on with George while I glanced around the room. Where on earth was the viscount? I was through with Grayson, and ready to move on. Luckily, Georgianna’s daughter, Madeline, chose that moment to pass near our little group. I gave her a bright smile.

  “Madeline, whatever has become of Lord Ainsworthy? Wasn’t he planning to be in attendance this evening?”

  Her smile was forced, more like a gritting of teeth. “Yes, we did expect him, but he sent his regrets yesterday. He had to leave town on some urgent business. We assume he’s gone to his estate in Kent.” Her eyes darted around the room as she took my arm and guided me a few steps away from George and Grayson.

  Instantly I was all mother. “What is it, dear?”

  “Is Lily well?” Her frown gave away her concern. “I heard she left for the country.”

  “I assure you, there is nothing terribly wrong with her. A slight cold. She didn’t want to show a red nose around town, and since my daughter was going to Harleigh anyway, Lily thought she might spend a week there herself.” I gave her a reassuring smile. “Your concern does you credit as a friend, dear. Thank you for asking about her.”

  I thought that was all, but her expression hadn’t relaxed. “Is there something else?”

  At these words, her countenance became even more clouded.

  “Lady Harleigh, is she . . . that is, does she?” She heaved a sigh of frustration. “Does Lily have feelings for Viscount Ainsworthy?”

  Ah, so that’s what this was about. Oh, dear. How to answer? “Well, I’m not sure Lily’s feelings extend beyond admiration for any of her suitors yet, but perhaps you cannot say the same?”

  Madeline blushed a deep rose. “He is so handsome,” she whispered.

  “And he’ll be just as handsome in a few months’ time. Let me give you the same advice I gave Lily. Do not rush into a commitment. Hopefully at least one of you will take that advice to heart.”

  The butler gave a signal to Lady Georgianna, and we all processed to the dining room where I found myself seated between George and an elderly relative of Georgianna’s. His name escaped me, but fortunately he was deep in a discussion about hunting, with Lord Grafton, at the head of the table. The poor woman seated between the two men would likely be listening to this conversation all through dinner.

  Turning to my left I saw George gazing at me with an impish grin on his face. I knew immediately I was the object of his amusement. “I’m beginning to think I should start charging you a fee for all the entertainment I provide.”

  “I’m not laughing at you, Frances,” he replied, and with a straight face, too.

  “You are. And I’m not sure why. My line of inquiry with Grayson was rather effective.”

  “You were superb. Grayson was ready to admit to anything rather than snubbing you. Well done.”

  We were interrupted by a footman, serving the first course, Potage à la Reine. Delicious. When he had moved on, George turned back to me, changing the subject. “My sister deserted me again for your company this morning,” he observed.

  “She thinks you do that intentionally, you know—tell her something about me so she’ll rush off, and leave you to enjoy your breakfast in peace.”

  “Ha!” We both looked around the table to see if anyone had heard his exclamation. George continued, lowering his voice. “An excellent idea, and one I would have conceived eventually, but so far I’m innocent of her charges. I hope she didn’t disturb your breakfast.”

  “Oh, no, we were up early to see the girls off with Delia. By the time Fiona arrived, my aunt and I were going over the main points of the recent criminal activity, trying to come up with a common thread.”

  His expression of interest told me he considered this a worthy occupation. “And did you find one?”

  “Sadly no. We did have one unanswered question though, about the disposal of stolen goods. Later, Fiona and I paid a visit to Alicia, while Delaney was there. When I asked him about it I thought he was going to have some sort of fit.”

  George lowered his soup spoon and stared at me. “He seemed such a calm sort. What exactly did you ask him?”

  “Just whether finding the buyer of the stolen goods would lead one to the thief.”

  “I see. And you gave him no reason to believe you intended to seek out that buyer yourself?”

  “I did not. He came to that conclusion without any encouragement from me. I fully understand anyone who buys stolen goods would be just as dangerous as the thief himself. I am not so foolish as to go looking for him.” I didn’t think George needed to know I had been just that foolish earlier today.

  “I knew you had a good head on your shoulders,” he said, returning to his soup. “That type of work is best left to the police.”

  “But are they doing it? You said yourself, Alicia’s case was probably closed, and with this murder to solve, are they even looking for the thief anymore? I still need to learn if one of Lily’s suitors is involved. Oh, I did find out from Delaney that all three have been on hand every time there was a theft. So all three are still susp
ects.”

  George’s gaze drifted up and to the side. “There might be another way,” he murmured, almost as if speaking to himself. He turned back to me, a slight smile about his lips. “These were crimes of opportunity, so the thief would not have had a buyer ready and waiting for the goods. Fencing stolen goods is no easy task, and the thefts were recent, so there’s a chance our man may still be in possession of some of these items.”

  “An interesting possibility, I agree, but how on earth can you find out if it’s true?”

  His smile widened. “Leave that to me.”

  The teasing man! Though I worked on him all through dinner, he would give me no more of an answer, so I had no choice but to give up and enjoy the rest of my evening. My high hopes at the start of it had become seriously deflated by the end.

  George had confidence that Mr. Grayson was innocent of any crime, and despite my general opinion of him, I had no reason to think otherwise. My idea of questioning these gentlemen, and finding a link to poor Capshaw, had turned into an exercise in futility. It’s not as if I were the police and could interrogate them. Ainsworthy wasn’t even here. And I might have just given him away to one of Lily’s competitors. Not what I would call a successful evening. But perhaps George would have better luck. I wondered just what he was planning.

  Chapter 17

  With last night’s encounter, I was on my way to eliminating one murder suspect, and determined today would go as well. With that in mind I rose from bed before Bridget brought in my morning coffee. Alicia had kindly given me the copied letters of reference for Mr. Capshaw and I learned from the society pages of the Times, his most recent employers had just come up to town two days ago.

  Mr. and Mrs. Rockingham, an older couple, rarely left their home in Derbyshire, so my luck must be improving, as they had conveniently turned up, and were staying in the house of Mrs. Rockingham’s sister for a fortnight. I had just penned a letter, asking them if I might call at their earliest convenience, when Bridget slipped through the door. Upon not finding me in bed, her head swiveled round as if I’d disappeared on her.

  I raised my pen in the air. “Over here, Bridget.”

  She let out a little “Oh!” of surprise at seeing me at the escritoire, then scurried over to set up the coffee on the little desk. “Couldn’t sleep, my lady?”

  “Actually, I slept quite well. I just woke early, and decided to get some work done, rather than rolling over.” I picked up the delicate porcelain cup and took a long sip of coffee. “Ah, that’s what I needed!”

  Bridget worried her lower lip. “You should have rung for me, my lady. I would have been happy to bring up your coffee earlier.”

  “I’m just now out of bed, Bridget. There was no point in troubling you with an early bell. Now put that tray down, draw up a chair, and tell me if you learned anything from Mr. Barnes last night. The viscount didn’t attend the dinner party. It’s said he’s visiting his estate.”

  “Right you are, my lady.” Bridget placed the tray on a table by the door, and returned to my side, although she didn’t take a seat. “He left very suddenlike. Day before yesterday, he went to his club about noon, as usual, came back early in the evening to get ready for some event, and asked his valet to pack a bag for him. Said he was going to the country the following morning, and he’d be gone a few days.”

  That seemed to agree with my knowledge of the viscount’s movements. Two days ago we met him at the charity fashion show around two o’clock. If he’d left the house at noon, he might have gone to his club first. We also saw him at the Roswell ball that evening. He must have known he was leaving town by that time, yet we heard nothing of it. “Odd that Lily didn’t mention his plans to me. I wonder if he didn’t tell her. And if not, why not?”

  Bridget’s expression stated she couldn’t enlighten me on that point. “Did Barnes say anything about Ainsworthy’s actions on Thursday—the day of the murder?”

  Her eyes rounded as she placed a hand over her mouth. Good Lord, she looked as if she were going to faint. I jumped up, led her over to the bench at the end of the bed, and seated the both of us. Bridget stared into my face, shaking her head. “I thought this was only about stealing some jewelry. Did the viscount murder that poor man in the garden?” She looked away, wringing her hands. “Oh, poor Barnes.”

  That took me aback. “Poor Barnes?”

  “He’s going to need a new situation. And if His Lordship’s arrested for murder, he won’t be able to give Barnes a character.”

  I placed a calming hand over hers. “Let’s just take one step at a time, shall we? You shouldn’t jump to the conclusion that the viscount is a murderer. What did Barnes tell you?”

  “Only that His Lordship seemed irritated about having to leave London. He didn’t mention anything special about Thursday. Barnes is very sharp and likes to talk. If he’d noticed anything strange about the way His Lordship was acting that day, he would have told me.”

  “Very good,” I said, in what I hoped was a soothing voice. “So Thursday was just an ordinary day. We can assume Ainsworthy went to his club around noon, came home to change his clothing some time later, then left for whatever entertainment he had on that evening.”

  Bridget nodded. “That’d be about right, my lady.”

  “Then Friday started with his usual routine, until he decided he needed to go to the country. Did he tell Barnes he had business there?”

  “Well, at first he didn’t give any details, but when Barnes asked if His Lordship was going to his estate, he said that he was, that he’d take the morning train, and he should only be gone a few days.”

  “Did he take his valet?”

  “No, and that seemed a bit strange to me, too. His Lordship dismissed the staff at the manor several weeks back. Before he even came to London. I guess he didn’t expect to spend much time there, so he just has a caretaker couple in place—a maid of all work and a man to do the heavy work. I asked Barnes why he wouldn’t take someone to wait on him, but he said that was just the viscount’s way. It wasn’t so long ago His Lordship was just a plain mister and taking care of himself. He wasn’t used to having people to do for him.”

  I considered everything she told me. Ainsworthy would have been away from home at the pertinent time on the day of the murder, but he’d come home unruffled and apparently, unbloody. He sacked the staff of his country home as soon as he’d arrived in England. That is rather unusual behavior, but perhaps he didn’t plan to spend much time at his estate. If not, it was a reasonable thing to do.

  Then why did he suddenly decide to go there?

  “So Barnes didn’t say whether the viscount received a letter from the country, or some other communication, that would have necessitated the visit?”

  Bridget shook her head. “Barnes thinks His Lordship is considering marriage though, and might be going to his estate to hire the staff back. But that’s just him thinking, my lady. The viscount didn’t say that himself.”

  Two thoughts occurred to me. One was that it was a reasonable explanation for Ainsworthy going to his country house. The other was that Lily was going to kill me if he proposed to Madeline instead of her. But what if it was Lily he wanted to marry? I felt a moment’s panic. What if he’d already proposed and been accepted? What better time to go to the country and prepare his household to receive his bride?

  I drew a calming breath. No, Lily could never have kept something like that to herself. I was losing my perspective. I needed to look at this as a disinterested party.

  The only reason a man rushes at breakneck speed into marriage is because he needs money, and if Ainsworthy dismissed his staff, that might also indicate a lack of funds. But did that fact increase the odds of his being the thief? Not really. When you’re a titled aristocrat in need of money, you simply live off credit until you marry it. I’d have to make sure to warn Lily, but as far as criminal behavior, I didn’t see that in the picture. His Lordship was probably innocent. However, I could verify one more thing
.

  “Do you know which club Viscount Ainsworthy belongs to, Bridget?”

  She shook her head. “Barnes mentioned it. I know it started with a B, but I don’t remember the name.”

  “That’s all right. It’s either Brooks’s or Boodle’s then. I’ll ask Mr. Hazelton to make some inquiries around both of them to see if the viscount was there on Thursday. If so, then I think we can take him off our list of suspects.”

  * * *

  After my conversation with Bridget, I sent Jenny to find a messenger to take my note to the Rockinghams, then got dressed for my day. I wrote a short letter to Rose, so she wouldn’t forget me, with all the fun and frivolity she was supposedly having in the country. I wrote an even shorter one to Lily, telling her she might want to think twice about the viscount as a potential husband since money was definitely a factor in his search for a bride. I could have sent a message to George, but decided to pay him a visit instead.

  At half-past ten, the butler showed me into his breakfast room. As George’s home was much larger than mine, it was no surprise the footprints were nothing alike. For example, I had no breakfast room, and upon seeing his, I immediately wanted one. Light poured in from the south-facing windows, where the buttery yellow draperies had been pulled back. The small room glowed. What an excellent place to start one’s day.

  “I love this room,” I said, smiling at George, who stood to greet me. He led me to a seat next to his, at the head of the table. “Now I know why Fiona comes here for breakfast so often.”

  “I’d like to say she comes here for my charming company, but then we would both be wrong.” He tipped his head toward the sideboard. “She comes for the food.”

  I turned and was amazed by the number of chafing dishes crowded on the sideboard. “All this for one man?”