As Pru stepped up alongside her, Katherine straightened her shoulders and strode down the corridor toward Lord Conyers. “I’d like to speak with you a moment, if you aren’t set on running off after your lover.”
“Her?” He glanced over his shoulder, his expression souring. “She isn’t my lover. That’s disgusting.”
“Indeed. I think there are some things you haven’t told us. For one, I’d like to know where you went after I saw you near the ice swan at Lady Dalhousie’s ball.”
His expression darkened. “This again? Why do you insist on bothering me about this? I had nothing to do with Celia’s death. It was an accident.”
“Are you still claiming that? How do you explain the ring?”
Lord Conyers frowned and glanced back in the direction Mrs. Dillinger had fled. “Why is everyone going on about the ring? Even Celia’s stepdaughter. I have no idea how it got in my planter or what you people did with it after you took it. I tried to tell her that, but she wouldn’t believe me. She even said that if I confess right away and claim it was an accident, she’d see to it that I don’t hang. I suppose her family has the money to make good on that, but I won’t confess because I am innocent.” Lord Conyers sighed. “What does it matter anyway? None of it will bring my Celia back.”
“So that was Mrs. Dillinger?” Pru said.
“Yes, and she was rather nasty too. Kept going on about that ring as if I stole it.” Lord Conyers straightened his jacket and leveled Katherine with a look. “Now if you ladies will excuse me, my fiancée is waiting.”
Lord Conyers brushed past Katherine and strode down the hall.
“Katherine, he’s getting away!” Pru whispered.
“I know. But we have no reason to detain him.”
“Why not? He had the ring, and he is the jilted lover.”
“No. Something isn’t right. And we aren’t sure he ever had the ring. Why would he put it in the planter? It doesn’t make any sense.” Katherine watched Lord Conyers disappear down the hall then turned to Pru. “And if he was the killer, why would he be so perplexed about Lord Rochford’s daughter asking about the ring?”
Pru nibbled her bottom lip. “You have a point. But why was Mrs. Dillinger here, and why run away when she saw us? Why would she seek him out and try to persuade him to confess? It didn’t seem she cared enough for her stepmother to want to seek justice.”
“No, but she cares enough for her father,” Katherine said. “When we talked to her at Bow Street, she was very defensive about him. Maybe she suspects her father is the real killer and was trying to coerce Conyers to confess to ensure her father is the one that does not hang.”
Chapter Twenty-Three
Katherine thought she might have made a mistake in sending Harriet to Lady Dalhousie’s house again so soon. Gertie, the cook, had been suspicious enough upon the first visit and practically threw Harriet out when she found her there asking questions again.
If only Lady Dalhousie had not left the ball early the night before. After Katherine and Pru had talked to Conyers, she had searched high and low for the gossip, only to discover that she had gone home early. Luckily there was another ball this evening, so Katherine would be able to question her further then.
The other person Katherine wanted to talk to was Mrs. Dillinger. She assumed the woman was trying to cover for her father. Whether that was because she had knowledge that he’d killed Lady Rochford or not, Katherine didn’t know, but talking with her would certainly reveal more. Both Lord Rochford and Lord Conyers had motive, and each denied killing her, but Katherine was sure it had to be one of them.
As Katherine was trying to figure out how she could finagle a way to talk to Mrs. Dillinger, she spotted Lord Bath’s coach pulling up to Dorchester House. Tarnation! She hadn’t the time to cajole him to take a wife, not when she was so close to solving a murder! But now that Mrs. Fairchild had agreed to work with her rather than against her, perhaps Katherine needn’t worry about that any longer.
She put her notes aside, placing them in the bookcase before venturing downstairs.
“Lady Bath awaits you in the parlor,” the butler informed her as soon as her foot hit the foyer floor.
“Is Lord Bath here as well?”
“No. Only the lady, and she has refused a tea service. I believe she means to depart shortly.”
Katherine winced. That couldn’t bode well, could it? If she was here with happy news, she would have wanted to eat.
The moment she entered the room, Grandma Bath got to her feet with difficulty. “Lady Katherine, it is a calamity!”
Katherine paused on the threshold, taken aback. “A calamity?”
“Miss Verne,” the old woman exclaimed, her face contorted with agony. “Ernest is going to lose her! You must do something.”
What had happened between last night and this morning? Had Mrs. Fairchild only pretended to work with her so she might instead work against her? Although Katherine would like to think that the union of Miss Verne and Lord Bath would be a cause for all parties to celebrate, she couldn’t help but wonder if Mrs. Fairchild was that vindictive.
And that good an actress.
“Why would Lord Bath be in danger of losing Miss Verne? If he is worried, perhaps he ought to make his admiration plain.”
“You know he won’t do that!” Grandma Bath paced around the chair she had occupied, using it for balance. Katherine had never before seen her so unsteady on her feet. She must be near panic to exhibit such a weakness.
“I cannot force him to propose,” Katherine answered calmly, though she stepped no nearer. Better to make a hasty escape if need be. “I’d hoped that once I found him a suitable bride, he would develop some affection for her.”
“He has,” the old woman exclaimed, sounding as though she gnashed her teeth. “I’m certain of it. He gives no woman so much attention save for you, Katherine.”
Oh dear. The very last thing Katherine wanted was for Grandma Bath to fixate upon her once more as a marital candidate. Desperate, she offered, “Perhaps I can speak with your grandson and bring him to see reason.”
“You’d do better to ask that beau of yours to stop sniffing at Miss Verne’s heels.”
“Beau?”
“Captain Wayland,” Grandma Bath said, her lip curling with distaste. “I thought he was partial to you, but he seemed particularly attentive to Miss Verne. You’re not having very good luck with your suitors this month, are you? Can you not tempt him to offer for you so at the very least he can leave my grandson some sliver of happiness?”
Slowly, Katherine answered, “I don’t believe Captain Wayland is courting Miss Verne. You must be mistaken.”
“I am not! I saw them together at the ball last night. She was laughing—laughing!”
Katherine bit her tongue. She took an even breath before she said, “I’ll speak with him. I promise. Miss Verne will be in no danger of being proposed to by Captain Wayland.” And he isn’t my beau. Given that Grandma Bath was certain Katherine had a preference for Lord Bath, she didn’t put much stock in the old woman’s observations. Still, if Wayland was interfering with the match…
Grandma Bath looked dejected. “I hope that is the case! I cannot reason with Ernest myself, or he’ll defy me on principle. Stubborn man doesn’t know what’s good for him.” The last statement was muttered lower, as if Grandma Bath meant it only to reach her ears. Unfortunately, she was a bit hard of hearing. With a beseeching look, she added, “If Ernest believes he’s lost Miss Verne, he won’t even try. I know him, and he’s been crossed in love before.”
He has? Why hadn’t either of them told her of such a thing? Katherine fought the urge to step backward as she promised, “Never fear, Grandma Bath. You’ve employed me to see that your grandson is married, and I’m not about to let anyone, least of all Wayland, get in the way of that goal.”
Katherine did not have time for this. She was so close to solving the case she could taste it. She wanted to question Mrs. Ramsey t
o see if the person in the Rochford carriage could have been Lord Rochford instead of Lady Rochford. She wanted to talk to Lady Dalhousie to find out if she’d discovered more from her servants about the person seen with Lady Rochford. Finally, she wanted to seek out Mrs. Dillinger again, as clearly she must have suspicions of her father, though Katherine had no idea how she would get them out of her. But she couldn’t let Lord Bath lose Elizabeth. She knew they were perfect for each other.
Katherine had little time to chase down Wayland and convince him to stay away from Elizabeth, so she applied to Mrs. Fairchild to do the matchmaking work instead. Since she didn’t think she would be welcomed if she showed up on her rival’s doorstep unannounced, she sent a letter to her. To her surprise, she received a response within the hour, as she was getting ready to go out.
Mrs. Fairchild also offered some advice. She seemed genuine about their truce, at the very least. Katherine had to admit it brought her some relief.
Here’s what we’ll do: speak with Captain Wayland and see if he won’t pay even more attention to Miss Verne—knowing, of course, that she isn’t destined for him! Don’t forget to mention that. It will rankle with Lord Bath to see another man courting the woman he’s come to admire. Perhaps that will even be enough to spur him to propose.
Katherine had to admit that the idea held merit. In Bath, when Lord Annandale had thought that Katherine was considering Wayland’s pursuit of Pru, he had found a private moment to make it known in no uncertain terms that he meant to be the victor of her hand. Fortunately, that particular rumor hadn’t held the least kernel of truth.
If Katherine were able to convince Wayland to lend her such a favor again… She returned her attention to the page, satisfied, though Mrs. Fairchild had written more.
In case that isn’t enough, let’s use this recent death to our advantage, shall we? If we each, separately, whisper into his ear to remind him of how short life can be and how one must hold onto the people and things one cherishes, that ought to be enough to drive him to his knees with a ring in his hand. For good measure, have his grandmother lend a good word too.
Mrs. Fairchild then went on to describe how Katherine might subtly bring up such a topic. Katherine skimmed the last two pages, shaking her head. It seemed her rival couldn’t waste an opportunity to be condescending.
At least she was able to ensure that Mrs. Fairchild would be helping even if it meant Katherine had to ask a favor of Wayland.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Katherine did not have time to visit Mrs. Ramsey or Mrs. Dillinger that afternoon. Getting ready for the ball that evening took precedence, since she’d be able to accomplish two tasks in one evening—convince Wayland to feign interest in Elizabeth and corner Lady Dalhousie to see if she’d gleaned more gossip.
She found Wayland on the edge of the ballroom, swathed in the shadows of a neoclassical pillar that was more decorative than practical. The balcony above was wide enough only to hold the myriad pots the hostess had set up to provide some greenery to the room. Squaring her shoulders, Katherine took a deep breath as the orchestra set their bows to their instruments in a long, ravenous note meant to beckon dance partners to the floor.
“Are you free for this set?” Katherine asked.
Wayland’s jaw dropped, and he looked caught somewhere between amusement and disbelief. “Are you asking me to dance?”
“I am.” It would be less conspicuous if they conducted this distasteful conversation on the dance floor.
“I believe that’s my job.”
“Then ask, if you’re so offended.”
He crossed his arms, stalwart. “You hate dancing.”
“I don’t hate it.” Katherine grimaced. “I simply… have better things to do. But at the moment, it is the best place for a somewhat private conversation, unless you’d prefer to find a quiet spot along the corridor?”
He raised his eyebrows. “Apparently you’ve forgotten what happened the last time you dragged me into a secluded corridor. No.”
Katherine let out an exasperated breath. “Those rumors abated soon enough once I let everyone know it was business we were after.”
“And I nearly lost my closest friend because he thought I was courting his future wife!”
Stepping closer, she lowered her voice. “Actually, I believe it was that falsehood that spurred Lord Annandale to propose, and I need you to do it again.”
“You want me to flirt with Miss Burwick?”
“What? No. Don’t be absurd.”
Wayland pierced her with a look that told her he thought her the absurd one. Perhaps she wasn’t being clear.
“I’m trying to match Miss Verne with Lord Bath, but he’s been dragging his heels. All I need you to do is to be as attentive to Miss Verne tonight as you were last night, and I’ll have them matched by the end of the week. If he thinks someone else is interested in Miss Verne, he might propose sooner so he doesn’t lose her.”
Wayland stared at her, far too quiet for comfort.
“What is it?” she asked. She turned, looking behind her, but no one seemed to be paying them any mind.
He still seemed unusually solemn. “Are you certain you want me to flirt with Miss Verne and make a good show of courting her?”
“Yes, of course. I told you, Lord Bath—” The look on his face stilled her tongue. “You aren’t interested in her for yourself, are you?” She hadn’t thought of that.
He didn’t answer.
Katherine cleared her throat. In a falsely light tone, she added, “I suppose it doesn’t matter one way or another. At least Miss Verne will be well settled as she deserves. Either you or Lord Bath propose to her.”
“I thought he was your client, not her.” Wayland’s voice was stiff.
“She isn’t, but she’s become a friend. I want the best for her.”
“And the best is for me to get down on bended knee?”
“No.” Katherine choked on the word. As Wayland’s expression grew smug, she added, “The best is for Lord Bath to offer first. He is my client, as you’ve said.”
“Is that the only reason?”
Katherine dropped her gaze from his intense hazel eyes to his knotted cravat. She couldn’t answer that question. For some reason, the thought of Wayland getting down on bended knee for anyone rankled. And it had nothing to do with what had happened in Bath, she told herself resolutely. She swallowed against the lump in her throat.
“Just do it, and we’ll see who comes out the triumphant man.”
Wayland made no answer, but his jaw tightened. He nodded tersely in what she hoped was an agreement, and they parted ways. As Katherine stalked across the ballroom in search of Lady Dalhousie, her stomach knotted.
Wayland wouldn’t offer for Elizabeth first. Her plan was sound. The moment he started flirting with her in earnest, he would drive her into Lord Bath’s arms.
But… Wayland was an attractive man, even if he didn’t have a title. And he was closer to Elizabeth’s age too. But tarnation, she and Lord Bath were so well matched! The thought of losing the match because Wayland had formed some kind of tendre for Elizabeth after keeping her company for one night burned the back of her throat.
Perhaps she ought to do as Mrs. Fairchild suggested and whisper to Lord Bath of the frailty of life and how he ought to hold onto the love he’d found.
Oh, with her luck, Lord Bath would propose to her if she tried! She was stretched too thin, her head throbbing with vigor, as she stopped along the wall and dropped into a vacant seat. Most of the debutantes in attendance were dancing.
“Lady Katherine, are you feeling quite the thing?”
Her luck was turning! It was Lady Dalhousie, and to Katherine’s surprise, she sounded genuinely concerned. When she sat next to Katherine, Katherine smiled wanly at her. “Lady Dalhousie, you’re just the person I wanted to see. I was hoping we could continue our conversation from last night about the person seen with Lady Rochford.”
Lady Dalhousie laughed, a t
hroaty chuckle. “You’re as hungry for gossip as I am! But I’m afraid I have to disappoint you. I don’t have any further information other than a shadowy figure.”
“Could it have been Lord Rochford? Perhaps he wanted to speak to his wife alone.”
Lady Dalhousie pressed her lips together. “Are you implying he might have killed his own wife?”
Katherine tried to look aghast. That was exactly what she was implying, but she didn’t want Lady Dalhousie to know that. “Of course not! I simply meant that perhaps they stepped aside at some point for a moment alone, and that is what your servant saw. Before she fell over. Perhaps they had words and she went out for a breath of fresh air. I believe the common thinking is that it was an accident.”
Lady Dalhousie pressed her lips together. “Perhaps. I don’t recall where Lord Rochford was at the time she fell.” She leaned toward Katherine. “Of course, I wasn’t in the ballroom at the time, either. I had to help Lord Conyers with his friend who had had too much champagne. Poor chap is visiting from Italy, I believe. And here I thought they could hold their liquor.”
Katherine turned to gape at the old biddy. “You were with Lord Conyers when Lady Rochford fell?”
“Yes, that’s what I said. Helping his friend. The rascal was in no fit state to walk, so Lord Conyers, Mr. Erikson, and I piled him into his carriage. Lord Conyers wasn’t in much better shape, but at least he was walking upright.”
Although Katherine hadn’t answered, the gossip added, “Lord Conyers and I had just returned inside when a shout rang out, and there she was, in the garden.”
Lord Conyers was not the murderer. Katherine’s ears rang. Lord Conyers hadn’t been lying. Someone must have planted the ring in his planter. Mrs. Ramsey had seen the Rockford coach there the day after Lady Rochford died. That left only one suspect.
She had to tell Pru about this break in the case! She extracted herself from Lady Dalhousie and went in search of her friend.
Murder at the Ice Ball Page 23