Social Graces (Victorian Vigilantes Book 5)

by Wendy Soliman

  ‘This is the first we have heard of it,’ he said. ‘Her sister was certainly not aware.’ Since Jake wasn’t yet convinced that Woodford was telling the truth he decided against revealing that Connie had told her sister she had an important secret that could only be revealed in person. This, if Woodford was being honest, had to be the exciting news.

  ‘How did she intend to get out of her contract with Barton?’ Otto asked. ‘Had she told him? Had she told Chichester? And what about Felsham? He seems to think she had agreed to tour with his company.’

  ‘She hadn’t told any of them. She intended to do so on the night she was killed. Barton would have been quite within his rights to demand a percentage of her earnings for the remainder of her contractual term with him, and we would have been willing to pay to him. I could have obtained far better paid parts for her, which would have left everyone better off and given Connie the freedom to explore the full extent of her talent. Barton was definitely holding her back in that respect.’

  ‘Leaving aside for now the possibility of an agent deliberately sabotaging a leading client’s career, which is what you seem to be implying, do you know if she actually told him?’ Jake asked. ‘Think carefully. It’s important.’

  ‘I didn’t see her that day. She insisted that she would see Barton in the afternoon of the day before she died, and was due to receive Chichester that evening after her performance.’

  ‘She did. He stayed the night and didn’t leave until late the following morning,’ Jake told him. ‘Which doesn’t sound to me as though she actually broached the subject.’

  Woodford frowned. ‘I should have insisted—’

  ‘Insisted upon what?’ Jake asked.

  ‘Being there when she broke the news, but she wanted to tell them both alone.’ Woodford glowered at some unshared recollection. ‘I didn’t like it. Chichester has a volatile temper and I thought he might react violently. It had happened before. But Connie was no coward, and she felt that they deserved to learn of her decision from her own lips.’

  ‘Where were you that day?’ Otto asked.

  Woodford’s expression turned icy. ‘You imagine I killed the woman I loved and wanted to spend the rest of my life with?’

  ‘On the contrary,’ Otto replied, meeting Woodford’s hostile gaze with equanimity. ‘I want to assure myself that you did not.’

  Woodford exhaled slowly. ‘I apologise. Of course you must ask. I was here all day, seeing an endless procession of clients and industry people, unaware that Connie…’ His voice broke. ‘I can account for every hour of the day. My receptionist can vouch for my presence here, as can the people with whom I had appointments. Ask him on your way out if you require a list of their names.’

  ‘Connie would have spoken to Barton before the performance. Either that or she would have called to see him in the afternoon, I imagine,’ Jake speculated. ‘Funny that he didn’t mention it to us when we spoke to him. Do you have any reason to suppose that she might not have told him?’

  ‘I am sure that she must have, although we did not speak. I said I would call to see her the following morning. As you can imagine, I was anxious to know how it went, but she told me she would contact me when it was done. She was expecting her sister to call that evening and we were going to tell her together about our decision to marry. I was supposed to join them at seven, but when I arrived at her building I saw all the police activity and Stoker took great pleasure in telling me what had happened. I could scarce believe it. I thought he was lying. I never did trust him. But, of course, I soon learned that he was speaking the terrible truth.’

  ‘What did you do then?’ Otto asked.

  ‘Went home and drowned my sorrows. It was the only way to anesthetise the debilitating pain. The guilt.’ He thumped his clenched fist against the surface of his desk. ‘Damn it, I shouldn’t have left her for a single moment. I will spend the rest of my life blaming myself.’

  ‘Connie did not intend to tell Felsham that she wouldn’t be touring with his company?’ Jake asked once Woodford had regained a modicum of composure.

  ‘No, I insisted upon having that pleasure once she was officially my client. The man was all but blackmailing her into doing a tour that could only damage her career, simply to save his own skin.’ Woodford scowled. ‘And Barton went along with it. I never understood why. Felsham must have had some sort of hold over him, but neither Connie nor I could think what it might be.’

  ‘He told us that she had agreed to join the company but Barton signed her and found her something more worthy of her talent before she could do so. He felt he owed it to Felsham to make recompense.’

  ‘By tarnishing the career of his most promising client?’ Woodford emitted a mirthless laugh. ‘Rubbish! This is a cutthroat business. Clients are stolen from agents and companies all the time without a backward glance. It’s a jungle, and only the strongest survive.’ Woodford drummed his fingers impatiently on the arm of his chair. ‘Something motivated Barton, but it was most certainly not guilt.’

  ‘Barton was in love with Connie.’ Jake made his supposition sound like a declaration of fact.

  Woodford nodded. ‘I reached to the same conclusion, which made his determination to ruin her career even harder to fathom.’

  ‘Perhaps he wanted to convince her that it had reached its zenith in the hope of persuading her to give it up all together and consider him as husbandly material instead,’ Otto said. ‘He knew she would never return home to her family, and couldn’t even if she wanted to because her parents had disowned her.’

  It’s possible, I suppose,’ Woodford conceded. ‘I suggested to Connie once that Barton had feelings for her, but she laughed it off. She was too modest to see what was before her very eyes. She believed he had her best interests at heart and always followed his advice.’ Woodford paused. ‘Until I entered her life.’

  In which case, Jake was surprised it was Connie who had died and not Woodford. Connie was unquestionably the more valuable commodity.

  ‘Were you aware that Felsham’s leading man, Robert Tyrell, took the apartment next to Connie’s?’ Jake asked.

  ‘Yes, she mentioned it and it immediately aroused my suspicions. He was always sniffing around her, trying to ingratiate himself—and of course Connie was too kind-hearted to push him away. That’s why I pressed her to tell Barton and Chichester about us, so that I could protect her from all the pressures that were being placed upon her from other sources. But she wouldn’t even allow me to spend the night or…well, you know. She said that until such time as she had ended her arrangement with Chichester, her conscience wouldn’t permit her to have another man in her bed.’

  ‘An odd sort of morality, if you don’t mind my saying so,’ Jake mused. ‘I assume she was a virgin when she came up to London, but she seems to have been versed in the ways of the world. She recognised immediately that a man of Chichester’s stature could be beneficial to her career. I believe he invested in a few productions provided she was given a leading role, which is what got her noticed. Things took off for her from that point. She no longer needed Chichester, but she had accepted his protection and stuck to her side of the bargain. She remained faithful to him, despite being in love with you.’

  Woodford shrugged, renewed tears glistening in his eyes. ‘Her and her damned morals! If she had let me handle matters she would still be alive today. I’m absolutely sure of it.’

  ‘You said that you were worried Chichester would resort to violence. That it had happened before,’ Jake said. ‘What did you mean by that?’

  ‘What I said. He tried to control her and make her do whatever he wanted her to, which was seldom the best thing for Connie. She stood up to him, I’ll say that for her, and they argued frequently, often in front of others. I heard him harangue her more than once. Anyway, something happened about a month ago, I’ve never been able to discover what it was.’

  ‘Connie did something to displease him?’ Jake suggested.

  ‘Probably. Chi
chester disliked much of the company she kept. Younger men than him who amused her and spoke…well, theatrical speak. Insider talk, if you like, that excluded Chichester. He has a quick temper and dislikes being disobeyed. He’s not used to it, and on this one occasion he struck her quite hard. I saw the swelling and bruising on the side of her face and wanted to give him a taste of his own medicine, but Connie wouldn’t let me. She said he was mortified when he realised what he’d done and the next time they met he presented her with an expensive pair of diamond earrings by way of apology. Connie remembered his brutality every time she looked at them, and refused to wear them. She intended to return them to him on the night she ended the affair. It was her way of making him understand that her decision was irrevocable and that he’d brought it upon himself.’

  ‘Yet she intended to keep the rest of his gifts?’ Jake asked.

  ‘I believe she more than earned the right.’ Woodford curled his upper lip. ‘I told her to keep the earrings too, but she wouldn’t hear of it.’

  Jake nodded. ‘You think Chichester killed her?’

  ‘No one will convince me otherwise, but I don’t suppose the authorities will take any accusations made against a marquess seriously. Especially since I have no actual proof and could easily be accused of bias.’

  ‘Thank you for being so frank.’ Jake stood and extended his hand. ‘You have my condolences upon your loss.’

  Woodford stood also and shook first Jake’s hand and then Otto’s. ‘I would very much like to meet Miss Larson and be involved in the arrangements made for Connie, if she could see her way clear to including me. Perhaps if you would be so good as to tell her what I have just told you we could be of some comfort to one another.’

  ‘I will certainly do that,’ Jake assured him.

  Well,’ Otto said as they left Woodford’s office and climbed back into the carriage. ‘What did you make of that? Was he being honest with us?’

  ‘I think so. He was genuinely upset and also seemed to have Connie’s best interests at heart, which is more than can be said for the rest of the jackals she surrounded herself with. I will have Parker check up on his whereabouts during the time the crime was committed, just as a precaution, but I am fairly sure we will find he was where he claims to have been. Of course, he might have become impatient and called to see her after Chichester left, but even if he did, I doubt whether he had murder in his mind.’

  ‘Unless she’d had a change of heart.’

  ‘She could have done, but Woodford’s account of the earrings makes sense of their being in their box. Perhaps her exchange with Chichester got heated and she forgot to return them. Or perhaps he refused to take them back.’

  ‘We know that Connie had an injury to her face that didn’t actually kill her,’ Otto said, curling his upper lip in disgust. ‘Chichester must have struck her when she told him the affair was over.’

  ‘The same thought occurred to me.’ Jake stared pensively through the carriage window at the streets that were slick with rain. The stench of the river permeated the carriage, but Jake was so preoccupied that he barely noticed it. ‘The question is, Otto, did he then go on to strangle her or did another visitor call after Chichester left her?’

  ‘Barton?’

  ‘Precisely. If we believe Woodford then it follows that Barton wasn’t honest with us. I think we had best pay him another visit tomorrow.’

  ***

  Olivia had steered Sophia clear of the London General Mourning Warehouse, reiterating the belief that Connie would frown at the thought of her sister swathed in deepest black. Instead she had been swept into the ladies department at Swan and Edgar, where several assistants persuaded her to purchase a ruinously expensive silk evening gown in a deep vibrant blue, edged with lace in a lighter blue. It fitted to perfection and the colour, as Olivia was quick to point out, was a compromise between mourning and the celebration of a life cut tragically short.

  Sophia justified the purchase by reminding herself that she would be able to wear it again in her life after Connie. A life that she would carve out for herself as a journalist here in London. If she wanted to be taken seriously, she would have to look the part. Perhaps further shopping would be required. Her parents’ cold indifference to Connie’s death had rid her of any residual familial duty that might otherwise have kept her in Hertfordshire, even though she had been discontent the entire time.

  She felt relieved to think that she wouldn’t have to spend many more nights in the austere house that had been her home since birth, being lectured on the right way to behave. Being coerced into marrying a man she did not love because her father approved of him. Lord Torbay’s mansion was massive—fifty times larger than her parent’s residence. It should seem cold and empty with so few people in occupation of it, but instead its walls reverberated with the constant sound of laughter. It was as warm and welcoming as its owners and had opened Sophia’s eyes to the true meaning of family life. Seeing the suave earl having a rough and tumble with young Tom and then cradling his baby son in his arms, love and wonderment in his eyes as he gazed down at the sleeping infant, had set her thinking.

  Connie had had the courage to chase her dream. Sophia would do the same, and pursue her own. At least Connie’s death would not then have been entirely in vain.

  ‘This is for you, Connie,’ Sophia said, staring at her reflection when Annie had finished helping her to dress for the evening.

  Sophia felt a newfound confidence in the image that stared back at her, aware that no one in this household would frown at her for not observing formalities more assiduously. She was surprised to discover that despite her best efforts to quell them, thoughts of seeing Otto again distracted her from the fierce determination she harboured to obtain justice for Connie. Guilt threatened to swamp her. How shallow was she proving to be? Sophia shouldn’t be thinking about anything other than the devastating loss of her sister and could not, would not, allow any man’s compelling eyes and provocative smiles to deter her from that purpose.

  ‘Ah, you are ready,’ Olivia put her head round Sophia’s door and smiled at her. ‘You look rejuvenated. Tell if I got it wrong about the confidence an expensive new gown gives one.’

  ‘You gave me the courage to have…well, the courage to be myself. I know how much I shall miss Connie, and I don’t need to make public declarations to remind myself of my loss.’

  ‘If you want my opinion,’ Olivia said, linking her arm through Sophia’s and directing her towards the stairs. ‘There is nothing that lifts the spirits more readily than a becoming gown.’

  ‘So I am fast discovering. Thank you for helping me.’

  ‘It is entirely my pleasure.’ She patted Sophia’s hand. ‘Now come along. Lord Riley is already here and we have yet to learn what the gentlemen discovered after their visit to Mr Woodford.’

  ‘Should they discuss it in front of Lord Riley?’

  ‘Unless you have any objections.’

  ‘Not really.’ Sophia hesitated. ‘It seems odd to include him but I suppose Lord Torbay knows what he is about.’

  ‘Usually he does. It’s terribly annoying.’

  Sophia laughed. ‘What man doesn’t think he is always right?’

  ‘True, but in my husband’s case, he almost always is. Not that I would ever tell him that, of course.’

  Sophia laughed. ‘How very wise of you.’

  Their conversation brought them to the open doors of the drawing room, from which emanated the low rumble of male conversation. Three heads turned as the ladies entered the room and Sophia was able to gauge her first impression of Lord Riley, still doubting that a man…no, a youth could possibly grasp the enormity of his father’s situation.

  The introduction was made by Lord Torbay. Lord Riley offered Sophia an elegant bow and expressed his condolences with brief sincerity.

  ‘I saw your sister perform, Miss Larson, and was impressed by her quite remarkable talent. I am so very sorry for your loss and I hope it doesn’t transpire t
hat my father had any hand in it. If he did, you may rest assured that I shall not protect him.’

  Sophia blinked at his frankness. ‘Thank you,’ she replied, understanding now why Lord Torbay had placed his trust in the young man. His hair was black and a little too long, and his eyes were an intense shade of grey that conveyed quiet determination and strength of character. He was tall for his age, but possessed a gangly build that implied he had yet to grow into that height. He carried himself with the self-possession that seemed to come naturally to those born into positions of wealth and consequence. There again, perhaps being sent away from home to preparatory school at the tender age of seven would account for his maturity. Sophia held back a shudder at the thought.

  The ladies accepted an offer of peach ratafia. For her part, Sophia was in urgent need of its fortifying properties. The gentlemen already had glasses of what looked like whisky in their hands.

  ‘Now that we are all here,’ Lord Torbay said. ‘I am sure you would like to know what we learned from Woodford this afternoon.’ He turned towards Sophia and smiled. ‘What we are about to tell you will come as a considerable surprise, but I hope you will also find a measure of comfort in it.’

  ‘You intrigue me, Lord Torbay.’

  Her host started to talk, with occasional contributions from Otto. Sophia listened intently, almost choking on her drink that she sipped too quickly when Lord Torbay claimed Connie had agreed to marry Mr Woodford.

  ‘That must be the exciting news she had intended to tell me in person,’ she breathed. ‘She had found contentment at last, only to have it snatched from her.’ She wiped tears away somewhat inelegantly with the back of her hand and shook her head. ‘Poor, headstrong Connie! So much talent needlessly gone to waste. She was so sure she knew what she wanted, yet when she found it, it cost her her life.’

  ‘Don’t distress yourself,’ Otto said from across the room, caressing her with his eyes and looking as though he would like to offer her a more personal form of solace. If they had been alone, Sophia was sure he would have done so. She returned his gaze, drowning beneath the weight of her sorrow and the growing anger burning inside of her as her determination to find justice for Connie grew. ‘Your sister gave pleasure to so many. Always carry that thought in your heart. It is a claim that few of us will be able to boast, no matter how many years we live.’