Katherine pressed her lips together. His answer was confirmation in itself of her worst suspicions. Wayland was using her—as perhaps he had done with Papa without her learning of it. Whatever his crimes, they were grave indeed. And she had best cut her association with him.
Even if she couldn’t quite conceive of what Wayland might have to gain from his behavior thus far.
Chapter Thirteen
The longer Katherine contemplated her father’s words, the worse she felt. Not only because of her acceptance of McTavish’s help but also because of Wayland. She would never admit as much aloud, but his charm had been working on her, at least a little. She hadn’t believed that he was capable of violence, or any other heinous act, but Father hadn’t denied it.
She couldn’t return to her family while feeling so out of sorts, so she collected Emma and hurried to Hyde Park. The crisp winter air should have cleared her head, but as she brooded along the walks, she drowned in her father’s words and her own shame.
At least, until a resounding bark punctuated the air.
“Bonbon, no!”
Katherine turned and froze as the excitable wolfhound barreled down the path to meet them, towing Elizabeth along behind her. Bonbon looked so eager to renew her acquaintance with Emma that Katherine couldn’t help but smile.
She checked on her pug’s reaction to the much bigger dog but didn’t find Emma exhibiting the typical signs of fear. Perhaps she’d gotten over her initial shock and now thought Bonbon a lumbering boor for calling out whenever she espied them. Regardless, Bonbon took advantage of the moment to sniff Emma thoroughly, a greeting Emma cautiously returned, nose to nose.
“I’m terribly sorry,” Elizabeth apologized, out of breath. “I hope you weren’t too startled.” Grimacing, she wrapped the leash around her fist a few more times to shorten it.
“Not terribly startled, I assure you,” Katherine answered. “I know she’s friendly. Even Emma is happy to make friends this time around.”
The smile the other woman gave was nothing short of relieved. “And how are you today? I admit, I’d hoped it might be another hour yet before any brave ladies ventured out into the cold to walk their dogs.”
“More likely, they’ve given over the task to servants on a day like today.” Were it not for her muff and the warmth of her cloak, Katherine would not have been tempted to walk farther than the end of her street. “I’m well, thank you for asking. I hope you are as well?”
Elizabeth nodded. “Very well, thank you for asking. All this exercise does me good, even if Mrs. Fairchild seems to have other opinions.”
Katherine’s teeth clenched at the thought of her would-be matchmaking rival. “Don’t listen to her. If walking Bonbon brings you pleasure, you ought to continue to do it.”
The corners of Elizabeth’s mouth tipped up in a bright smile. “My thoughts precisely.”
“I was just on my way out,” Katherine said, reminded that her family yet awaited her at home. “Would you care to walk with me?”
Warily, Elizabeth studied the two dogs. “They appear to be getting on well enough.”
“They’ll be fine. If there’s any trouble, I’ll lift Emma and walk with her under my arm.”
After a moment’s hesitation, Elizabeth nodded. “Very well. It would be my pleasure to join you. Were you walking in this direction?”
The pair continued to stroll along the path leisurely as their dogs found particularly interesting spots along the path to smell. For a short while, they held the sort of banal chitchat that easily flew out of Katherine’s head, especially as she was considering another dilemma.
She should not try to poach Mrs. Fairchild’s client out from under her. No, indeed, it would be morally wrong and earn her the other woman’s undying enmity. Not that she didn’t have that already…
Still, Katherine found herself asking, “How are you liking Mrs. Fairchild’s tutelage?”
Despite her earlier comment, Elizabeth showed no sign of distaste. In fact, her expression was perfectly composed, her voice even as she asked, “Are you asking because you believe you would make me a better matchmaker?”
“Dear me, no!” Katherine exclaimed. Even if she had a lord in mind for Elizabeth, she was a detective first and a matchmaker only when strictly necessary. “Call me curious, that is all. Does she have anyone in mind for you?”
“Several potential matches, in fact.” Elizabeth paused in her step, looking down. “If you ask me, she is overreaching. I know she secured a prince for her last client. That success is in large part why my parents chose to employ her. But I haven’t any need for a prince. In fact, if I’m honest…” She trailed off, worrying her lower lip. Then, with a firm shake of her head, she resumed walking.
Katherine fell into step next to her. “If you’re honest?”
Elizabeth sighed. After tucking a strand of her golden-brown hair behind her ear, she gave Katherine a sideways glance. “Perhaps I’m peculiar, but I feel as though you’d understand. I feel as though I’d make a far better governess or schoolmistress than I would a lord’s wife.”
“You ought to marry Lord Bath,” Katherine blurted. She winced the moment the words left her mouth.
Elizabeth looked scandalized. “Katherine, not you too! I thought you of all people would understand a desire to submit to a pursuit other than marriage.”
“I do,” she hastened to answer, holding her hands aloft in surrender. Emma paused in her step to peer up at her mistress, confused. “Believe me, I understand that desire. But the moment you said schoolmistress, my imagination ran wild with my tongue.”
She paused, her breath fogging in front of her face. To buy herself time to collect her thoughts and express herself rationally, she adjusted her hood. Elizabeth’s incredulous—and perhaps in no small part disappointed—expression didn’t alter while she waited to hear a response.
“The Dowager Marchioness of Bath has commissioned me with the task of finding her grandson a wife. No easy task, considering that he insists he is well enough off without one. But when you confessed to your aspirations…” Katherine reached out to clasp Elizabeth’s hand, beseeching her. “You could attain them if only you marry Lord Bath.”
Elizabeth looked dubious. “I could become a governess if I first became a marchioness?”
“I’m explaining this badly, aren’t I?”
The shorter woman laughed. “You certainly aren’t explaining it well.”
“Let me begin again. Lady Bath has expressed a fond wish to open a school in Bath to provide an education for all her citizens, not only the well-to-do. However, she’s lamented that she hasn’t the energy to organize or enact it. If you were to marry Lord Bath, you could work in conjunction to bring such a project to fruition. You would be perfect!”
Elizabeth laughed. Shaking her head as though she addressed a willful child, she said, “Then perhaps I ought to offer my services as an educator. To ask me to marry Lord Bath in order to run a school is ludicrous!”
Yes, put that way, it was. “Why is it so ludicrous that you marry him? He cares very deeply about his tenants, he dotes upon his grandmother, and he is fond of dogs. He would make you a very fine husband, I imagine.”
“He’s a marquess,” Elizabeth exclaimed. “My family couldn’t scrounge together a title if we tried. Or rather, we have one on a distant branch of the family, and it’s been generations since my family could tie itself to it directly.”
“Lord Bath is rich and powerful enough that he doesn’t need a woman from a titled family to be his wife. Someone without such connections but with greater aspirations to better his people would be a much better fit.” Katherine held up her hand to stall the inevitable protest. “Lord Bath is known to be eccentric. The daughter of a peer would be most unhappy with the way he carries on, you know, actually caring for the people in his care.”
She paused for a heartbeat, waiting for her friend to respond, but Elizabeth remained mum. She didn’t appear to be enthusiastic abou
t the idea, but at the very least, she was no longer openly protesting it. As the final nail in the coffin, Katherine cajoled, “Pru was recently engaged to the Marquess of Annandale, and her father was only a second son. They’re incomparably happy, by the way. I have quite the eye for these things.”
Elizabeth still seemed reticent.
“Is it Lord Bath himself that you object to? Do you not find him handsome?”
“I don’t know that we’ve been introduced.”
“No?” Katherine raised her eyebrows. “That’s odd. Mrs. Fairchild is acquainted with him. Unless…” She sighed. “She will likely object to the match on principle. We had a bit of a falling out when Lord Northbrook married my client instead of hers. Perhaps, if you’d care to set your cap for Lord Bath, you ought not to tell her. Not until we’re certain the match will be going forward.”
They reached the edge of Hyde Park. Elizabeth looked ready to bid Katherine adieu, but Katherine wanted to continue her conversation. She had a good feeling about Elizabeth and Lord Bath. “Where is your direction? I’ll walk with you partway home.”
Although Elizabeth at first seemed reluctant, she graciously accepted Katherine’s company. Once they had settled into a desirable pace, Katherine persisted. “Meet with Lord Bath once or twice. That’s all I ask.”
Elizabeth pressed her lips together. “I wouldn’t presume to ask for his introduction.”
“Of course not. I’ll have him seek out yours. He’s my client, so he’ll do as I request.”
“And then?” Elizabeth tipped her head forward charitably. Perhaps she was warming to the prospect.
“And then we’ll see if you might suit. If you don’t like him, I certainly would never try to force you to marry him. I orchestrate love matches, nothing less.”
Elizabeth laughed, incredulous. “There are precious few of those going around.”
“Oh? You doubt me?” Katherine smirked. “My sisters, Lady Banning and Lady Pevensey, beg to differ. As do Pru and Lord Annandale. I assure you, they cannot stop cooing at one another. Quite the sight, considering his stern exterior.”
“I don’t believe you work miracles. I also know that I have few remaining childbearing years left in me, and that makes me unattractive to a man, especially one who has yet to sire an heir. The best way to indulge my love of children is to educate them.”
“You can do both,” Katherine countered. She paused and put her hand on Elizabeth’s sleeve. “Don’t undervalue yourself. We have enough men around to do that for us, don’t you think?”
Elizabeth smirked and shook her head again. “You are peculiar, Lady Katherine.”
Katherine tried not to show how much the bemused statement stung. “I am also correct. And stubborn. I won’t see you home until you’ve promised to meet Lord Bath and give me your opinion of him.”
“Very well. If that is the only thing that will appease you, I will do so.” Elizabeth pointed down the street away from where Katherine needed to travel in order to return home. “Shall I bid you adieu?”
Katherine nodded. She leaned forward to clasp her friend warmly on the arm. “Thank you for the company. Good day!”
The momentary triumph from having begun the match for Lord Bath was quickly overshadowed as Katherine recalled how he had lied to her when she had last questioned him. Or had he? Lord Bath could become preoccupied with things. It was wholly within reason that he might not have been paying attention to where he was when Lady Rochford fell. There would have been no reason to if he wasn’t the killer. And just because Lady Dalhousie saw him go up the stairs just after Lady Rochford did not mean he had gone up there to push her off the balcony.
He might have had another reason. Perhaps one he didn’t want to tell Katherine lest it get to his grandmother. She needed to speed up the investigation so she could prove Lord Bath’s innocence. She frowned, brooding about her next course of action as she strolled with Emma along the street toward Dorchester House some minutes distant.
On the juncture of two streets, the door to a public house opened, spilling an appalling amount of chatter and revelry for a Sunday afternoon. Out stumbled two men. One, with ginger hair and his arm slung around the shoulders of the second man, was unmistakably McTavish. He roared a drunken ballad that would soon have him removed by the authorities for disturbing such a peaceful neighborhood, his arm slung around Rayner’s shoulders. Both men grinned, their cheeks ruby from drink.
That was McTavish’s means of loosening the driver’s tongue? Tarnation, Katherine had been worrying herself to shreds over nothing. As McTavish turned his prey toward Lord Rochford’s townhouse and the work he was undoubtedly shirking, he caught Katherine’s eye and winked.
Whatever the means, McTavish seemed to have learned something of use. Katherine needed to extricate herself from her family obligations as soon as possible so that she could learn what he had to say.
Chapter Fourteen
“I’m missing a delicious Sunday dinner for this, I’ll have you know,” Lyle grumbled as they strode together along the narrow street to Lord Annandale’s townhouse. Convincing him to accompany her to learn more about the murder investigation had been difficult, all the more so when his mother and siblings had tried to insist she stay for dinner with them instead. The word business was apparently not uttered during a Murphy Sunday dinner.
“I know. I’m sorry. I’ll make it up to you. We can have dinner at the most expensive eatery you’d like.”
Lyle shrugged. His hands shoved into his pockets and his collar uncurled against his neck for warmth, he looked the picture of surliness. If any criminals recognized him, they would no doubt scatter immediately.
“Did Bow Street get a chance to look at Lady Rochford’s body for more signs of struggle? Has the investigation turned up anything else?” Katherine had been insistent that Lyle accompany her so he could hear the information McTavish had discovered firsthand, but also she wanted to know what the police had uncovered.
“The only thing we found was the scrape you mentioned. It likely happened as she grappled onto a spindle, trying to stop the fall on her way over. Which seems to indicate she did not jump.”
“We already knew that.” At least the police would take it more seriously now. Though they were taking their sweet time about investigating.
“Lord Rochford seems appropriately upset. Though he was unusually interested in her belongings and accusing us of not handing everything over.”
“That’s odd. Did you keep something?”
Lyle looked at her sharply. “Of course not.”
“It doesn’t sound like you’ve made much progress officially. Maybe McTavish will have something of use for you.” She stopped in front of Annandale’s townhouse. “This is it. Number twenty-four.”
“This is an odd place for a marquess to live.”
“He is an odd marquess.”
Again, McTavish opened the door and ushered Katherine and Lyle inside. This time, judging by his bloodshot eyes and the slight wavering of his hand as he accepted her cloak, he was suffering the effects of the drink. He pointed upstairs and said simply, “They’re up waiting.”
Pru was already there, seated alongside Lord Annandale as they chatted with a third person. The back of the man’s head was facing Katherine, but no one could mistake that height.
What was Wayland doing here if he had no interest in the investigation? Suspicion knotted in Katherine’s gut. If this had been her house, she would have cast him out.
But it wasn’t, and he was a friend of Lord Annandale’s. Perhaps it was mere coincidence that she found him yet again in the room when she had clues to discuss.
“More business, Captain Wayland?”
He and Lord Annandale stood to greet her. Katherine didn’t keep them standing long but led Lyle into the room and chose a seat so the men could also sit. There was a scarcity of chairs. When Wayland remained standing to greet Lyle, she hoped that he would take himself off. Instead, he offered his seat to Lyle an
d moved to stand behind Katherine.
“Annandale isn’t often in London. You can’t blame my taking advantage of his presence while he is.”
Katherine turned to Lord Annandale. “Thank you for letting me know the moment McTavish returned. I’m eager to hear what he has to say.”
“Pretend I’m not here,” Wayland said as he meandered to the mantel, where he poured himself a finger of spirits, though he didn’t raise the tumbler to his lips.
No problem on Katherine’s part, as she was already pretending he wasn’t there. “Has McTavish informed you of his findings?”
Lord Annandale nodded. He reached over to clasp Pru’s hand. “He said his piece ere he staggered in, but he wishes tae inform ye of the particulars himself.”
Lyle adjusted his position in his chair. “How certain are we that the information this man has procured is accurate? Some men tell wild tales after a pint or two.”
“I trust his judgment,” Lord Annandale answered, his eyes hardening like steel.
At that moment, McTavish staggered in bearing a tray not of tea but of pastries. Seedcake, turnovers, biscuits, even sloppy-looking sandwiches adorned the tray, which he deposited on the table. “I hope ye don’t mind serving yerselves.” He raised a hand to his head as though in pain.
On his heels, a trim woman with a thick braid and a dour expression arrived with the tea and a jug of juice. She laid both neatly on the table and curtseyed to Lord Annandale. “The tea has another five minutes to steep, milord.” Her Scottish burr, although present, was far less pronounced than either Annandale’s or McTavish’s, as though she took pains to hide it. “Would anyone care for some juice?”
Katherine and Lyle volunteered, each receiving a small cup of the deep-red juice a moment later. The maid’s expression turned surly as she poured out a third and held it out to McTavish. “Drink it. Ye deserve this.” She curtsied again to the room before backing against the wall, where she presumably waited for the tea to steep so she could pour it.
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