Riley’s astonishment was uncontrived. ‘She had accepted your proposal?’
‘Not as such, but it was only a matter of time. I knew she would come to her senses eventually.’
‘You thought she was dallying with your affections?’
‘She would never have done that!’ Two spots of colour appeared high on Terrance’s wan cheeks. ‘She didn’t have a conniving bone in her body.’
‘Then what makes you suppose that she was on the point of accepting you?’ Salter asked. ‘We are told that she received several proposals, including two from other guests here last night.’
‘Oh, them.’ Terrance flapped a hand in casual dismissal of their claims upon Emily’s affections. ‘She wasn’t serious about either of them.’
‘Or you, it seems,’ Riley said. ‘What happened last night? Did you sneak away from the billiards room and seek her out for a private interview in the music room? She rejected you for a second time, told you she was in love with someone else—’
‘She was not!’ Terrance cried hotly, knocking his glass over in his agitation and spilling the remnants of his claret over the pristine white cloth. It spread like blood over pale flesh, but Terrance seemed neither to notice nor care.
‘She told you her affections were engaged elsewhere.’ Riley continued with his speculations as though Terrance’s fierce reaction to them had not occurred. ‘You lost patience with her. She was yours and no one else would have her. Jealousy gripped your heart like a vice, and before you know what you were about—’
‘That’s utter rot!’ Terrance jumped to his feet, toppling his chair over this time. ‘I wouldn’t harm a hair on her precious head.’
‘I still fail to understand why you were so convinced she would take you.’
‘For this, if you must know.’
Terrace reached into his pocket and produced a telegram. He passed it across the table and Riley and Salter perused it together. It was from Ferguson in India, giving permission for Terrance to address his daughter and his approval to the match. If Mrs Ferguson was aware of the existence of that particular communication, Riley thought, she had failed to mention it. Terrance put his hand out for the telegram, which Salter folded carefully and put in his own pocket. The two locked eyes for a moment, but Terrance was no match for Salter’s steely determination and looked away first. He righted the chair he had knocked over and sat back down upon it.
‘I’m not arrogant enough to suppose that she preferred me to all the others who swarmed around her,’ he continued. ‘But I knew she would come to love me in time, if only because I loved her so much. I also knew she wouldn’t go against her father’s express wishes.’
‘Because he needed your money,’ Riley said. ‘You made a deal with him.’
‘I gave him certain assurances, it’s true,’ Terrance replied evasively. ‘But that’s normal. I couldn’t have my beloved wife’s family living on the breadline.’
‘How did your father feel about the match?’ Salter asked. ‘Did he approve?’
Terrance scowled at the opposite wall. ‘We had words on the subject, I’ll admit that. He had nothing against Emily but thought…well, that I was too young to tie myself down.’
‘And that you could do a lot better for yourself. He wanted you to marry a woman from a more affluent family.’
‘So what if he did? The pater’s worked hard to achieve what he has and sets a great deal of stock by prestige. He is proud of what he’s achieved.’
‘Is that why you and he argued so violently last night?’
‘What…no!’ Terrance looked startled…and afraid. ‘Who says we argued? It’s a damned lie. I was playing billiards.’
‘The entire time?’ Riley asked, fixing Terrance with a penetrating look.
‘Well no, we each took a turn out since there were only three of us.’
He would know, of course, that Riley intended to speak with Granville and Leith, his billiard-playing companions. They were also competitors for Emily’s hand, and Riley presumed that Terrance was probably unsure if he could rely upon their support if he claimed to have been in the billiards room the entire time when he had not been. Besides, if their feelings for Emily were as passionate as Terrance’s, and if they considered him capable of killing her, they would hardly cover for him. Would they? The question was, did Terrance leave the billiards room at the vital moment, and for a sufficient amount of time?
‘What did you do when you left the billiards room, sir?’ Salter asked.
‘Well, nothing much. I just took the air and stretched my legs.’
‘Hoping to run into Emily?’
‘I assumed she was with Pru and Miss Dalton.’ He shrugged. ‘She stuck to them the whole damned evening, as though she didn’t want any of us to catch her alone.’ A melancholy smile illuminated his handsome face, but was quickly eradicated. ‘She was too damned modest for her own good. If she’d let me take care of her, she’d still be alive today.’
‘Did you happen to see anyone else when you were, as you put it, taking the air and stretching your legs?’ Riled asked.
‘Can’t say that I did.’
‘The house was full, the entertainment was concluded and the night was sufficiently warm that many guests sought fresh air or the opportunity for a cigar, yet you saw no one?’ Salter interjected.
‘You didn’t take two glasses of champagne into the music room and meet Emily there by prior agreement?’ Riley snapped at Terrance from the other side. Terrance looked between Riley and Salter like a hare caught between two lamps.
‘I already told you no, damn it! And yes, of course I saw people. I saw guests, I saw servants. But I saw nothing to alert me to any sense of foul play, if that’s what you were trying to suggest. I can’t prove it so you’ll just have to take my word for the fact that I loved Emily. The last thing I’d want to do was hurt her, especially since I had her father’s permission to marry her. That much I have been able to prove. And I knew she would see reason eventually. I’m a patient man, Lord Riley, and was willing to wait for her to come to her senses, if only because her father insisted upon it. Then it would have been up to me to make her love me as much as I loved her.’ He shook his head and a solitary tear leaked from one eye. ‘It’s too late for that now.’
‘You weren’t worried about her marrying one of her other suitors?’ Salter asked. ‘Her father needed her to marry a man with money and both of them are as well situated as you are.’
‘Absolutely not!’ But Riley thought he didn’t look as sure as he sounded.
‘Very well.’ Riley inclined his head. ‘Thank you. That will be all for now.’
Riley and Salter watched the broken young man shuffle from the room.
‘Did you believe him?’ Salter asked.
‘Depends which part. Did you?’
‘I think he believed the young woman would eventually comply with her father’s wishes, but—’
‘But you can’t decide if he was aware that she was violently in love with someone else, accounting for her procrastination. If he knew—or if he’d just that minute found out— it’s easy to imagine such a hot-head allowing jealousy to get the better of him. Either way, I’ll wager a guinea it was Terrance and his father Amelia heard arguing on the terrace shortly before the body was discovered.’
‘Wouldn’t Mrs Cosgrove have recognised their voices?’
‘Outdoors? From a distance? Voices sound different in that situation, especially when raised in anger.’ Riley stood. ‘Come on, Salter. Let’s go and interview the staff, then we can get out of this mausoleum.’
Much to Farlow’s annoyance, they appropriated the butler’s pantry for that purpose, where Riley graciously invited him to join them.
‘Please take a seat,’ Riley said.
‘Thank you, my lord, but I prefer to stand.’
‘Have it your way.’ Riley shrugged his disinterest. ‘How long have you served Lord Ashton?’
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br /> ‘I was privileged to enter service in his father’s household as a boot boy.’
‘Some years then. You must have known Lord Ashton since he was a boy himself.’
Farlow nodded.
‘Your loyalty does you credit, Farlow, and I am sure you are as anxious as your master is to have this distasteful matter resolved in the quickest possible time.’
‘It is very distressing, my lord. But I share my master’s opinion that it must have been the work of an opportunistic burglar.’
Riley wasn’t surprised to hear it. ‘Which implies that he gained access to the property thanks to the laxity of one of the servants.’ The slight tightening of Farlow’s jaw was the only indication that he’d taken exception to Riley’s suggestion. ‘In other words, someone forgot to lock the gate from the mews. Access couldn’t have been gained by any other means. It was not, in fact. My men have conducted a thorough check.’ Riley allowed a moment for Farlow to absorb that information. ‘If the gate was left unlocked, whose fault would that be?’ he asked.
‘Mine, your lordship.’ Farlow stood a little straighter, a feat Riley would have thought impossible since his stance was already as rigid as a poker, oozing disapproval at this unwarranted intrusion into his private domain. ‘I am the head servant and responsibility for security rests with me.’
In other words, Farlow would deal with the recalcitrant footman in his own way.
‘Explain how service was provided for her ladyship’s guests last night,’ Riley said.
‘It was not a formal dinner, but a soiree. Paxton, the senior footman, and I served drinks when the guests arrived.’
‘What did they drink?’ Salter asked.
Farlow frowned at this interruption. He would tolerate Riley’s questions, albeit reluctantly, but probably considered Salter to be beneath his notice.
‘Champagne or fruit punch for the most part. Some of the gentlemen preferred something a little stronger.’
‘The drinks are kept in the dining parlour,’ Salter remarked. ‘Presumably you poured and served from trays.’
Farlow inclined his head, not bothering to answer with words.
‘When the party moved into the music room, did the guests take their drinks with them?’ Riley asked.
‘Some of them did, and we offered replenishment between performances.’
Riley suppressed a smile. From his experience of musicales most guests were in urgent need of the additional fortification to see them through the ordeal.
‘When the recital finished, did all of the guests move into the dining parlour for supper?’
‘I saw no one lingering.’
‘Are you sure, Farlow? This is vitally important. It was not a formal dinner so guests were milling about. You were occupied with your duties and might not have noticed.’
Farlow actually appeared to think about it. ‘You imagine that the unfortunate young lady hung back with the intention of keeping a private assignation,’ he said, twitching his nose as though he had just detected a bad smell. ‘But I recall seeing her and Mrs Ferguson in the dining parlour, so that cannot have been the case.’
‘Very well. Thank you. That’s helpful.’ Riley was startled by a large cat that suddenly landed on the windowsill outside of Farlow’s pantry. The butler looked affronted and shooed it away. ‘I assume you and Paxton, I think you said his name was, served the guests with drinks and helped them to food in the dining parlour.’
‘We did.’
‘Who cleared up the music room?’
‘That would have been Susan, the housemaid.’
‘Alone?’
‘We only employ one other maid and she was required to assist in the kitchens.’
‘I see.’ Riley stretched his long legs to one side of Farlow’s desk, thinking it odd that Lady Ashton hadn’t engaged additional domestic help for the evening, as was the custom with most families when entertaining. Another indicator of financial constraint perhaps? ‘So Susan went into the music room and presumably shut the adjoining doors to the drawing room so that if a guest returned to it he or she would not have to witness the housemaid going about her chores.’
‘Absolutely.’
‘She put the chairs back in place, cleared away the glasses and wiped the tables.’ Farlow nodded. ‘Now think carefully. Were any glasses left behind or unaccounted for?’
‘It is part of my duties to check the safe return of all the glasses, silverware and gold leaf crockery after a party. Naturally only the best is used.’
‘Naturally,’ Salter muttered, eliciting a sour look from Farlow.
‘I check to ensure all the glasses have been properly washed, that none of them are chipped and all are accounted for. I always perform that duty before retiring. But, of course, last night was an exception, what with…well—’ Farlow seemed furious that Emily had carelessly permitted herself to be murdered, playing havoc with his routine. ‘Anyway, I attended to the matter this morning and discovered that two of her ladyship’s best champagne glasses were missing. Upon enquiry, I learned that you had taken possession of them.’
‘They were found in the music room.’
‘So I understand, but Susan assures me that she didn’t leave any behind when she tidied the room.’
‘I am sure she did not,’ Riley replied, not wanting her to suffer from the pompous butler’s ire if he suggested otherwise.
Riley asked a few more questions, but Farlow’s loyalty ran too deep for him to reveal any information that might tarnish the family’s image, even peripherally. He thanked him for his time and asked to see each of the footmen in turn.
The first was a very anxious young man, little more than a boy, with a girlishly pretty face and ridiculously long lashes. Murray wasn’t permitted to show that pretty face above stairs when the family was entertaining, he earnestly assured Riley, since he was still in training and couldn’t be trusted not to drop something. Farlow had confirmed that only he and Paxton attended to the needs of the guests, so Riley took Murray at his word and dismissed him.
Paxton was a far more interesting character. He not only took a seat when invited to do so but quickly proved loquacious.
‘You have worked here for five years, you say,’ Riley remarked. ‘Are you content in your employment?’
‘It’s a job,’ Paxton replied, sniffing. ‘Mr Farlow’s a hard taskmaster, but it ain’t too bad other than that. Of course, we have more duties now.’
‘Since Lord Ashton’s valet left and…’
‘And Jessie, the kitchen maid. Bit of a shame that.’ Paxton grinned, his good humour infectious. ‘Right pretty, so she was, and always cheerful. But she fell for Border, his lordship’s valet. Now his lordship don’t hold with his servants marrying and they didn’t want to lose their positions so…well, let’s just say that passion overcame them. Farlow caught them at it, if you follow my meaning.’
‘Indeed I do. What happened?’
‘Farlow hated Border. He felt he was closer to his lordship that Farlow is, so of course, he ratted them out. Border was told that Jessie would have to go. I suppose his lordship thought that she was expendable and Border wasn’t, but he miscalculated. Border simply told him if that was case they’d both go so they would be able to marry, which was what they’d been saving up to do anyway.’
‘How do they make a living?’ Salter asked. ‘I don’t suppose his lordship gave them glowing references.’
‘Ha, that’s the funny part. Border is a tailor’s son and used to make all of his lordship’s clothing from scratch.’
‘Good God!’ Paxton had finally astounded Riley. ‘I should have thought that a gentleman of his calibre would have a Savile Row tailor.’
‘Nah. Tight as a tadpole, is his lordship. Don’t be taken in by all those elegant parties they throw. That’s all for show. Below stairs, we have to account for every penny. Anyway, I think his lordship regretted giving Border an ultimatum—’
; ‘Because he now has to pay a lot more for his clothing,’ Salter said, chuckling.
Paxton shrugged. ‘I imagine he does, yes. Serves him right too.’
‘Do you know what became of Border and Jessie?’ Riley asked, thinking that aggrieved servants who knew the layout of the house might have sought revenge by attacking that which Ashton treasured the most. His good name. What better way than to have a debutante found dead in his house?
‘Yeah, they opened their own little tailor’s shop in the Bethnal Green. I see them sometimes on my day off.’
Salter jotted down the address that Paxton reeled off.
‘Now then,’ Riley said, becoming serious. ‘You have heard tell, I expect, that Lord Ashton thinks an intruder killed the poor girl.’
‘Well he would, wouldn’t he?’ Paxton pulled a doomed face. ‘He’s not likely to blame one of his own. And I know where you’re going with this. Locking the gate was my responsibility and I tell you true, I locked it after the jarveys came in for supper. This might not be much of a position but it suits me for now and I ain’t about to throw it away through carelessness.’ He stroked his chin, looking gloomy. ‘Course, Farlow might try to set the blame on me, use me as a scapegoat, but I won’t stand for it. I know a few things about him that I won’t hesitate to make public if he tries it. Ashton ain’t the only one with a reputation to protect.’
Riley exchanged a glance with Salter. This would be a job for his sergeant—an interview with the staff one-by-one, an interview that would be much less formal, much more likely to loosen tongues. ‘How many keys are there to that gate?’ he asked.
‘Two. One hangs on a hook here in this pantry.’ He pointed to a wood panel with hooks screwed into it, from which dangled keys to just about every area of the house, all neatly labelled. ‘That’s how I can be so sure that I relocked the gate. I have to take the key from here, let them in, then relock the gate. I always ask myself if I’ve done that before I return the key, because I forgot once and Farlow docked ten shillings from my wages.’
‘An incentive to remember,’ Riley said sympathetically, even though he couldn’t imagine Farlow having time to check on a night when they were understaffed and he was so busy.
Death of a Debutante (Riley Rochester Investigates Book 1) Page 11