by Sonia Parin
Tom leaned in and whispered, “Who is Clara?”
Evie murmured, “The Duchess of Hetherington. Bicky’s wife. She’s been away in London.” Tapping her notebook, she asked, “I don’t mean to draw attention to myself, however, does anyone know if I have any real enemies?”
Penelope and Elizabeth looked anywhere but at Evie.
“You must have,” Charlotte said. “Some mamas have long memories.”
Yes, but would any of them be prepared to wield a rifle? “I refuse to be held responsible for falling in love,” Evie declared. “Besides, my success in the marriage stakes can’t possibly be a motive. I am received everywhere.”
“Of course, you are, dear.” Elizabeth leaned forward and patted her hand. “Everyone is waiting to see what you will do next. They wouldn’t dare deprive themselves of the performance. The first time you met Nicholas, you both had eyes for no one else. We might all have become invisible for all you cared. I’d give anything to see that again.”
Evie’s mouth gaped open. She’d never in a million years consider that as a reason for receiving so many invitations. Turning to Bicky, she couldn’t help asking, “Is that why you have me over?”
“Nonsense. I’d like to think this is your haven where you can get away from all that silliness.”
“And yet this is where someone made an attempt on my life.” Evie rose to her feet and sought out the comfort of the window. Although, rather than stepping right up to it, she maintained a safe distance, hopefully out of sight of a would-be shooter.
“Could we please focus?” Charlotte asked. “The sooner we get to the bottom of this the sooner we can put ourselves in the clear as targets. I am honestly not comfortable with any of this.”
Charlotte’s husband, Lord Chambers, said, “My dear, I am on my way to becoming a peer and therefore a sitting member of the House of Lords. If you didn’t know it already, I’m sorry to say but we have been targets for a very long time.”
Charlotte visibly gulped.
Lord Chambers looked at Evie. “You have recently returned from America. Is it possible someone might have followed you here?”
Bicky sidled up to Evie and murmured, “He might have a point. After all, you now travel with a bodyguard pretending to be your chauffeur… and currently pretending to be your friend, or perhaps more than that, if the rumors are anything to go by.”
“The rumors? Oh, you mean the ones spread by your mama?”
“Sometimes, I think she would fare better living in town,” Bicky remarked. “She needs stimulation. I’m afraid she’s always found her life in the country somewhat limited.”
Evie looked over her shoulder to make sure no one but Bicky would hear her. “Bicky… Do you think there might be some truth to what Charlotte insinuated?”
He didn’t need any explaining. Bicky laughed.
“I know,” Evie said. “It’s silly to suspect Clara.”
“Silly?” he laughed again. “Oh, no. I’m laughing because you think Charlotte only insinuated it. She could not have been clearer and perhaps even spot on.”
Chapter Nineteen
In the dead of night…
“Why the secrecy?” Tom whispered. “Couldn’t we have asked to see the room?”
Evie put her finger to her lips and held up the candle. She knew Larkin made the rounds to check doors and windows precisely one hour after the last guest left or retired for the evening. It had always been his habit and would remain so until the day he ceased to be a butler.
All the guests had gone to their respective rooms an hour before and Evie had already heard Larkin’s nightly vigil along the corridor. So, the way would be clear.
“Follow me,” she said in a hushed tone.
Clara, Duchess of Hetherington, had not returned from her trip. According to Bicky, she had telephoned to say she had missed her train. However, Evie didn’t recall hearing the telephone ringing at any time during the evening.
Their dinner had been filled with more suppositions about Evie’s enemies. Bicky had insisted he couldn’t be a target and everyone had concurred, murmuring they would be hard pressed to find anyone who didn’t like him. By the end of it, everyone had managed to have a say. Although, most of the suggestions had sounded ludicrous.
Everyone had then decided Bicky had simply been in the wrong place. That could only mean, Evie had been the real target. Not once, but twice.
She did not for a moment believe all the mamas from across all the English counties had joined forces to have her run out of the country.
Nevertheless, she’d had no idea her life had been filled with so much peril. According to some, she might be snatched at anytime and anywhere and held for ransom.
It seemed extraordinary. The thought had never occurred to her. Or maybe, she had been aware of the possible risks involved but had never made a big deal out of it.
How stifling would it be to always wonder if today would be the day when something dreadful happened to her?
They continued along the corridor until they reached the family wing. Tom walked beside her. She sensed him but she didn’t hear him. Evie had chosen to wear her slippers but she still walked with the greatest care. Tom, however, still wore his shoes and she knew for a fact some of the floorboards creaked. Yet, he managed to avoid them.
When they reached the room she wanted, she tugged his sleeve. Checking to make sure no one had seen them, Tom eased the door to the room open. Evie hurried inside, followed by Tom who then closed the door.
Once inside, she found the light switch and blew out her candle.
“Is that a good idea?” Tom asked.
Instead of answering, Evie grabbed a couple of cushions and placed them on the floor to cover the gap by the door. “Better?” she asked.
“Marginally.” He strode to the windows and made sure the thick velvet curtains were drawn properly.
She glanced around the Duchess’s room, cringing slightly at all the gold decorations. Even the cushions were embroidered with gold thread and embellished with gold tassels.
“There could be a hiding place,” Evie suggested. They had already decided they needed to find some sort of proof against the Duchess. Anything that might give rise to suspicion and perhaps incriminate her in a plan to get rid of Bicky.
The others might have been content to strike him off the target list, but not Evie…
They had no solid reason to be suspicious of the Duchess. At this point, she supposed they were working on a process of elimination. If the Duchess was innocent, then they wouldn’t find anything. Evie kept the thought to herself for fear Tom would find a hole in her theory. She could already sense one taking shape in her mind, but she preferred to leave it alone.
At Evie’s insistence, they hadn’t shared the plan with Bicky. In her opinion, Bicky had probably suffered enough. She had no doubt he had.
Clara had never pretended to care much for him. While Bicky had held on to the hope he might grow on her, saying his parents hadn’t been in love at first, yet they had learned to appreciate one another and eventually they had fallen in love.
Tom opened a wardrobe door and, to Evie’s surprise, he leaned in and smelled the coats. Tiptoeing her way to him, she asked, “What are you doing? Is this some sort of fetish?”
“I’m smelling her clothes to see if I can pick up a man’s fragrance.”
Even if they found traces of it, Bicky would never act on it. He would certainly never consider divorce. It simply wasn’t done. There were cases but few and far between among their rank. Although, she had heard a rumor about the Duke of Marlborough’s marriage heading that way, and perhaps it would be for the best since Consuelo Vanderbilt had left him in 1906.
“I think we might be wasting our time,” Evie whispered. If only they could find something substantial like letters exchanged between lovers. They might even find something that could be interpreted as collusion… Some sort of conspiracy to do away with Bicky. Even a wishful thought captured on paper m
ight lead them along the right track.
Tom abandoned the hope of finding a man’s fragrance on Clara’s coats and began searching through the drawers. They had already discussed the issue of privacy and had dismissed it as inconsequential. Far too much remained at stake for them to be sensitive to the Duchess’s sensibilities.
Moments later, he drew Evie’s attention by tapping her on the shoulder and holding up a box of matches. Pocketing it, he moved onto the mattress and searched under it.
Evie found a leather bound book on a bedside table. She peered between the small gap in the spine and flipped through the pages but found nothing.
They had searched the entire room and had only found a box of matches which might or might not prove to be useful.
Could they cross Clara off the list of suspects?
Bringing their search to an end, they made sure they had left everything as they’d found it before leaving the room and heading back to Evie’s room.
If Caro knew she had invited Tom into her bedchamber, Evie would… Well… she would definitely have a lot of explaining to do to her lady’s maid.
Tom drew the matches out of his pocket. “It’s from the Criterion. Do you know it?”
“Yes. It’s in Piccadilly Circus. It’s quite an opulent restaurant and bar.”
“Would it be the type of place the Duchess would be seen in?” Tom asked.
“Yes, absolutely.” Evie wondered if the Duchess had gone there by herself or if she used the fashionable restaurant as a rendezvous point.
“She kept the matches hidden in the back of the drawer wrapped in a handkerchief.”
A sure sign she hadn’t wanted anyone to see the box.
But why?
Were the matches a keepsake? A memento from her first rendezvous with her lover who might, this very moment, be plotting to kill Bicky so he could have Clara all to himself?
Tom pocketed the matches. “Well, I suppose that’s that. We can’t point the finger of suspicion at the Duchess because she chooses to dine at a fine establishment.”
He couldn’t, but Evie had no qualms about reinstating the Duchess as a suspect.
Evie sat down at her dresser and opened the notebook she had used earlier. “I don’t recall you making any suggestions.”
He leaned against the wardrobe. “I’ve only been in your employ for a short time and you’ve mostly been keeping to yourself, stepping out of the house only once or twice a week.”
“You could take a wild stab.”
“There are seven house guests. I assume you knew them before coming here.”
Evie nodded. “I’ve only met Mark Harper a couple of time but I’ve known the others for years. There’s no reason why Mark would want to hurt me or scare me.” He wouldn’t have anything to gain.
Evie looked up at the ceiling. What if the shooter didn’t have a motive? He might only be targeting the landed gentry for sport.
“Are all the ladies married?” Tom asked.
“Yes. They don’t always travel with their husbands. And, before you ask, I have never given any of them reason to be jealous.”
“Are you sure?”
Evie subjected herself to close scrutiny. Bicky remained the only man she ever had murmured conversations with. She spoke to the others with ease but she honestly couldn’t fault her behavior toward them. Although…
The Viscount and Mark Harper had recently teased her. However, their flirting still remained within acceptable boundaries.
“Even if I had my doubts, no one actually knew I’d be attending this house party. So, they could not have planned their assault on me.”
“Which brings us back to my earlier suggestion,” Tom said. “Someone must have been keeping an eye out for you.”
Evie surged to her feet and insisted, “But no one knew I would be here.” Drawing in a breath, she got herself under control.
“No one that you know of. What about your household staff in town? Do you trust them all implicitly? How do you know someone didn’t pay them to pass on information to let them know of your departure? The arrangement might have been made the last time you came here.” He looked at her for a long moment. Finally, he said, “It’s late. We’ll talk about it some more in the morning.”
Evie nodded. “If I make it to morning.” She turned and looked at her bed. Holding up a finger, she rushed to the bed and pulled back the covers.
“Looking for bed bugs?” he asked.
“At this stage… I have no idea what I’m looking for. But I feel I should now grow eyes on the back of my head.”
“That’s why I’m here.” He turned to leave, only to say, “Maybe getting a dog isn’t such a bad idea.”
Chapter Twenty
A wild goose chase…
“There’s a telegram for you, Lady Penelope.” Larkin bowed his head and handed her the envelope.
“Thank you, Larkin.”
Evie made eye contact with Tom and gestured toward Penelope. A series of exchanged eyebrow movements later and Tom, who sat next to Penelope, reluctantly leaned in. However, at that precise moment, Penelope finished reading the message. Folding it, she slipped it inside its envelope.
“Good news, I hope,” Evie said.
“No, I’m afraid not.” Penelope took a long sip of her coffee. “It is so disappointing when people let you down.”
And yet… She didn’t look disappointed. Glancing at Tom, Evie tried to interpret his slightly raised eyebrow look. “Don’t leave us hanging.”
“Oh,” Penelope sighed. “It’s nothing really. I devoted a great deal of my time to selecting a new wardrobe for the season and now my dressmaker tells me nothing will be ready on time. This is such a letdown. Of course, I will not be using her services again.”
“She must have had a very good reason,” Evie remarked. Although, in her opinion, once a promise had been made and delivery dates agreed upon, it would be in her best interest to satisfy her customer.
“Perhaps, but she didn’t offer one. I shall now have to rush to town and make other arrangements. This is such an inconvenience and the timing could not have been worse. How can I possibly leave when your lives are still in danger?”
“We’ll try to keep ourselves alive while you’re away,” Bicky offered.
“I wouldn’t want you to think I’m bailing out on you.” Penelope looked at him, her eyes expressing her gratitude. “Do you think I could be driven to the station?”
“Yes, of course. Larkin will see to it.”
Excusing herself, Lady Penelope left on her rescue mission.
“Remind me again who she is,” Tom whispered.
“Penelope is married to the eldest son of the Earl of Remington, which means she will one day be a Countess.”
“Not any time soon,” Bicky remarked. “The Earl enjoys extremely good health. That’s not to say Penelope resents him for it. Did that sound odd?” Bicky didn’t wait for anyone to respond. “I think it did sound rather odd and it might have to do with my growing cynicism about marriage.” Looking around the table, he apologized. “I hope I haven’t ruined your breakfast.”
Mark Harper set his newspaper down. “No worse than what we read every morning. I suppose happy stories don’t sell newspapers.”
“As the eldest son of an Earl myself,” Matthew, Lord Chambers, mused, “I don’t think you are being cynical, Bicky. I’m sure I’ve been accused of champing at the bit but I’m in no hurry to step into my father’s shoes and Charlotte is quite content to spend the time honing her skills. It’s no easy task being at the helm of a large household. Wouldn’t you agree, Evie?”
“I can’t really say. Nicholas had already been an Earl when I married him. I had no choice but to jump in at the deep end.” And, if anyone had resented her advantageous marriage, they had certainly not taken any drastic steps. Belatedly, she wondered if Matthew had meant to steer the subject away from unfaithful spouses. She would swear Bicky had meant to imply as much when he’d referred to his cynicism.
“Would anyone care to go out riding today?” Bicky asked.
Both Matthew and Mark accepted the invitation just as Charles, Viscount Maison, strode in and helped himself to some breakfast.
“Count me in,” Charles said. “We’ll be moving targets, so we should be fine.”
Bicky looked at Evie and Tom. “Will you be joining us?”
Evie hadn’t made any definite plans for the day but she didn’t want to commit to a horse ride without first discussing their lack of success during the previous night’s search with Tom. “We’d love to. However, I have some errands to run. In fact, the sooner we get started, the better.”
“They must be important errands,” Matthew observed.
“To me, yes.” Evie gave him a brisk smile. “I’m keen to find out if anyone has a new litter.”
“You’re looking for a dog?” Bicky asked.
“Yes, I might be. I’m sure I want one. Actually, I think I should have one. I don’t know why it never occurred to get one before.”
“Because your mother suffers from allergies,” Tom reminded her.
“Oh, yes… That’s right.” Evie looked around the table. “I always try to avoid pointing the finger of blame at my mother for fear I might come across as being ungrateful.”
“I will ask around for you,” Bicky offered. “Someone is bound to be looking to place their puppies in a good home.”
“Thank you.”
“Well, since the rest of the ladies have yet to make an appearance, I’ll wait for final numbers before sending word to the stables,” Bicky said. “Will you be joining us for dinner?”
Evie looked at Tom, although she had no idea why she did so. “Yes, of course. We’ll be here.” It suddenly occurred to ask, “Are we likely to hear back from the Sergeant?”
Bicky nodded. “I trust the local authorities will inform us of any new developments.”
Charles snorted. “I only hope there are some of us left to hear the news.”
***