“I imagine a representative from the solicitors will be here tomorrow, or perhaps the day after, to discuss the pertinent information with you.”
The Pattons exchanged a confused look. “But you said you was from the solicitor’s,” Edie said, frowning.
“No.” Simon shook his head, replacing his hat on his head. “I said I was from London.”
A scowl slid across Patton’s face, and he stood slowly, his size making the movement menacing. Simon was glad he had placed himself between the man and the rifle that still rested by the door—a deliberate choice, of course.
“Then who are you?” the farmer asked, while Edie glanced between them with growing unease.
“Simon Page, as I told you. I am a principal officer of the Bow Street police force.”
Edie shrank back, clutching the baby against her so tightly that it began stirring again. “But what’s that got to do with us?” she said, sounding a little frantic.
“Did the Wyatts send you here to find my wife?” Patton demanded, his burly hands clenching into fists as he took a step forward. “What does that Frank want from us?”
Simon wasn’t a large or intimidating man; in fact, a fellow Bow Street officer had once described him as “remarkably forgettable” due to his average appearance. But he wasn’t easily cowed, and he knew how to hold his own under pressure. He didn’t back down as the farmer advanced toward him. Instead, he crossed his arms and sighed. “Mr. Patton, if you think about it for a moment, you’ll realize that Mr. Frank Wyatt had no reason to tell you about Maud’s inheritance, so I couldn’t possibly have been sent by him.”
“Then who are you, and why are you in my house?”
“Did no one tell you?” Simon asked, looking slowly from one face to another. He prided himself on his ability to read people. The Pattons were afraid, yes, but they were even more confused. He had a feeling that when he talked to the doctor, he would find that everything they had told him was true. “Sir Charles Wyatt was murdered.”
Edie let out a choked sort of gasp, clutching her baby so tightly that the child began crying in earnest, finally awake. Patton stared at him in shock.
“Frank Wyatt said it was an accident. That he had tripped and—”
“Frank Wyatt was lying.”
“But why?” Edie asked, finding her voice at last. “Why would he do that?”
Simon shook his head. “That’s what I’m trying to find out.”
She had called him a nasty piece of work. Nasty enough to have killed Ellen, perhaps? But he wouldn’t have done that unless he had also been the one to kill his father.
Did his trying to keep his half sister’s inheritance from her make him more likely to have killed his father? If he had killed for money, he would likely want to keep as much as possible of his father’s fortune for himself. That would mean cutting out little Maud, possibly even his brother, Arthur.
Mrs. Adler had said she couldn’t imagine Frank killing for money. But perhaps she was deceived by her history with the family. Unless there was something he was missing …
Simon sat back down in his chair and leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “Mrs. Patton, what else can you tell me about the Wyatts?”
CHAPTER 24
After leaving her father alone in the dining room, Lily stalked to her book-room in a blind fury, ignoring Carstairs as he tried to catch her eye in the hall. He also said something as she strode past, but she shook her head, not wanting to be interrupted.
She needed her father out of her house. He would always prefer Frank Wyatt to her—always—and the risk of having him there, the risk that he might tell the Wyatts what she had been up to in their home, was too great.
Someone had murdered Sir Charles. Someone had murdered Ellen. And as much as she didn’t want to admit it, it seemed Frank Wyatt was the one most likely to have done so. If only they could prove where he’d been the night of his father’s death.
Lily yanked open the door of the book-room and was two steps inside before she realized she was not alone.
Jack jumped to his feet as she entered, an expression of alarm on his face. “Lily, what happened?”
Lily stared at him for a moment, wondering why he hadn’t been announced. But then she realized he must have information to share with her that he didn’t want her father to know about. Raising a quick finger to her lips, she peeked out into the hallway, where she discovered Carstairs hovering, looking disapproving and a little nervous.
“As I tried to tell you, madam, Captain Hartley has called to see you. He asked not to be announced, which I know is highly irregular, but considering—”
“Of course,” she said quickly, giving her butler a tight smile. It was hard to let go of her fury with her father so quickly, but Carstairs deserved none of her ire. “Please inform me if my father goes out, but otherwise the captain and I do not want to be disturbed.”
“Of course, madam.” Carstairs bowed, hiding whatever discomfort he might have felt. Such a visit, accompanied by an order not to be disturbed, was hardly proper. But Lily knew she could rely on the discretion of her servants. And more to the point, she knew Carstairs would understand that he was to keep her father far away from her if at all possible for the rest of the evening.
Lily closed the door and turned to find Jack eyeing her with a worried expression. “What happened?” he asked.
Lily rubbed her eyes wearily. “My father. He knows.” She swallowed, meeting Jack’s eyes. “He knows I am assisting Mr. Page. And I fear he may tell the Wyatts.”
“He’d not do that, would he?” Jack had already helped himself to a glass of her whiskey. Without being asked, he poured her one. They settled into their regular spots, two chairs near each other in front of the fireplace, which had been banked to burn low, providing just enough warmth for a brisk July evening. “If he knows what you are up to, he must also realize that one of the Wyatts is guilty of murder. Surely …”
Lily took a gulp of her drink and stared at the embers. “If it comes down to it, I have no confidence in my father believing me over Frank Wyatt.” She met Jack’s eyes, feeling bleak. “Or choosing me, should he have to decide which of our reputations survives this.”
“You mean he would expose what you have been doing, publicly, to prevent anything happening to Frank?”
“Yes.” Lily closed her eyes, nodding, then shook her head. “I still cannot believe Frank could have killed his father. But he clearly wants to prevent Bow Street from making any arrests—of any family members or servants. If my father tells him that I am the one stirring up trouble, they have only to start that rumor spreading. And suddenly I am the one who is unnatural, who is behaving badly, who is the subject of gossip and distaste. And the Wyatts’ scandal is forgotten.” She opened her eyes, then narrowed them in Jack’s direction. “But you and Mr. Page are still not convinced when I say Frank did not kill Sir Charles.”
“I have no choice but to be now,” Jack said, sounding a little unhappy about the fact. He stared into his glass, then sighed.
“What did you find out?”
“I visited near a dozen gaming houses in St. James and Piccadilly over the last few days, and I finally found the one where Mr. Wyatt was playing faro that night.” Jack looked pleased with himself in spite of the fact that he didn’t like his own news. “Faro houses keep very careful records of who won, and when, and how much. They need to know who the dangerous players are so they can keep an eye on them. And so they can spot a cheat.”
“Jack.” Lily sat up abruptly, eyes wide. “You did not steal the records, did you?”
“Of course not.” He looked affronted. “I asked, and the owner of the gaming house showed them to me.”
They regarded each other for a long moment. “I am guessing this owner was female.”
“You don’t think men find me equally charming?”
“I don’t think that is where your particular talents lie,” Lily said, her voice dry as old toast.
/> Jack laughed. “Well, you would be right about that. And yes, she was female. And as it happened, I knew her.”
“Dare I ask how?”
“She has been the very respected mistress of several naval officers—not all at the same time, of course; that is not how these things work—and I once had the honor of bringing her to Portsmouth to welcome one of her protectors home. We got along very well.”
Lily hoped she wasn’t blushing. There were things that weren’t often discussed in the presence of women, even when they were widows. And as comfortable as they were with each other, she had certainly never expected to discuss them with Jack. But she could see him smiling at her embarrassment, so she lifted her chin and said, “I don’t suppose she was the sort of mistress you could afford to keep.”
He laughed. “Most certainly not. But she was a very entertaining companion for travel. Knew lots of excellent gossip. Absolutely bested me at piquet.”
“And I assume her facility with cards is what led her to run a gaming house, once she no longer wished to live upon the income of her physical charms?”
“Precisely.” Jack leaned back, stretching his booted feet out in front of him comfortably. “Stroke of luck, her being there. But if it had not been at her house, she would have vouched for me with whoever’s books I needed to see.”
“And her records say Frank Wyatt was there?”
Jack sighed. “Well into the morning, just as he said.”
Lily eyed her friend. He was disappointed with his discovery, and not just because he’d wanted to find an answer. “You wanted him to have done it.”
Jack scowled but said nothing.
“Why?” she pressed. “He is hardly an unpleasant fellow. And better to know with certainty that he did not do it.”
“Maybe I dislike anyone that your father so obviously prefers to you.”
Lily rolled her eyes. “Then you will have to dislike Lady Carroway as well, because he finds her infinitely preferable.”
“Really?” Jack looked skeptical. “And yet he still looks down on my having an Indian mother.”
Lily shrugged. “She has a title. She comes from a respectable family and married in a way that pleases and betters them. She is girlish and warm and a charming conversationalist. What is there to dislike?”
“Nothing, but there is nothing to dislike about you either,” Jack said loyally. It warmed Lily to hear him say it. Just as she was about to thank him, he added, “Or me.”
That made her laugh. “Or you,” she agreed, reaching out to squeeze his hand. The gesture made him smile, and they sat in comfortable silence for a moment before his face grew serious once more.
“But if it was not Frank,” Jack said at last, “and it was not Percy, and not Arthur, then it had to be Lady Wyatt.”
“Who gained nothing from her husband’s death but a return to relative poverty, and who physically could not have overpowered or moved him.”
Jack met her eyes. “We are missing something.”
They were. But Lily had no idea what it could be.
* * *
“And then he told me that I might join his harem, and of course I said yes.”
Lily was pulled out of her distraction with a jolt of confusion. She stopped in the middle of the path they were walking to stare at Ofelia, certain she could not have heard correctly. “What?”
“Well, that at least got you to attend.” The young Lady Carroway looped her arm once more through her friend’s and pulled her back into motion. “I do not think you have heard a word I said since we left Hanover Square. And I have said some very interesting words.” Ofelia glanced around at the crowded pathways of Hyde Park, then lowered her voice. “I would ask you what you are thinking of, but I can already guess.”
Lily grimaced. She had paid a visit to the Carroways’ home that morning, hoping that Arthur might have revealed something more about his family. According to Ofelia, he and Daisy, the maid assigned to his care, seemed to be getting along well. But he had been unsettled by the transition and wasn’t in the mood to speak to anyone.
“Perhaps we can go for a walk,” Ofelia had suggested. “And when we return, he might be more interested in company.”
They had walked in the direction of Hyde Park, and apparently arrived there, though Lily couldn’t remember entering at any of the gates. She sighed, squeezing her friend’s arm. “I apologize for being such terrible company. And I am very glad you are not joining a harem. You should probably save that for at least five years into your marriage.”
Ofelia laughed, but without really paying attention, her eye caught by someone in front of them. “I think I spy the captain up ahead. But who is that he is walking with?”
Lily followed her friend’s line of sight and was surprised to see Jack strolling arm in arm with a familiar figure. “That is Lady Wyatt.”
“Hmm.” Ofelia let out a thoughtful sigh. “He did say she seemed fond of his company; I think this is not the first time they have gone strolling together.”
“Really?” Lily’s surprise brought her to a halt without her realizing it. “He did not mention it to me.”
“He did not?” said Ofelia, looking puzzled. “He told me that, since she seemed to have a preference for his company, he might as well see what information she let fall about the state of affairs at the Wyatt home. But it is odd he did not mention it to you.”
“Especially since he so recently chided me for spending time in Mr. Frank Wyatt’s company when he was under suspicion,” Lily said tartly, taking Ofelia’s arm and leading her in the opposite direction. “But if he is pursuing some bit of information, best we not interrupt.”
“Hmm,” said Ofelia again, though what that second hmm might mean, Lily couldn’t guess. “I think they did not see us.” She waited until they had been out of sight for some minutes before asking eagerly, “What do you think he might be trying to learn from her?”
Before Lily could reply, a voice called out, “Mrs. Adler!”
They both started, and Ofelia looked panicked for a moment before she recovered her polite, cheerful mask. Lily, who recognized the voice, felt a momentary surge of anxiety, but it too was gone from her face as she turned to greet the man coming toward them.
“Mr. Wyatt, what a pleasure.”
Frank Wyatt smiled at her and shook his head. “Am I back to Mr. Wyatt again?” he said.
“Am I back to Mrs. Adler?” She didn’t mind the formality at all; anything to put some distance between them after that drunken, unwanted kiss.
“We are in public.” He shrugged one shoulder, swinging an elegantly carved walking stick in a lazy circle.
As he was dressed in mourning, it had a beautiful knob of jet on the top, and he wore black gloves that gave Lily a momentary pang of painful memory. She glanced down at her own gloves—pale blue now, a gift from Freddy’s mother that had lain in her drawer, waiting. Then she pulled her mind back to the current moment.
“I didn’t think you wanted me shouting Lily! for everyone in Hyde Park to hear.” Frank smiled again, then turned to Ofelia with a polite lift of his hat. “Madam.”
“Lady Carroway, may I present Mr. Frank Wyatt, who grew up not far from my father’s property in Devon. Mr. Wyatt, Lady Carroway.”
Ofelia offered her hand for Frank to bow over. “Mr. Wyatt. I hope you will not be offended when I say I have heard your name.” Lily almost snorted with grim humor at the understatement, though there was an impressive lack of irony in Ofelia’s voice, considering that she was currently, unbeknownst to Frank, housing his brother. “My condolences on the loss of your father. I can only imagine how difficult it must be.”
Frank closed his eyes briefly, his mouth stretching out in a pained, grateful smile. “I thank you, Lady Carroway. It has been a hard loss.”
“Made more so, I am sure, by the interference of those Runners,” Ofelia suggested. At Frank’s look of surprise, she shook her head. “One does not like to listen to gossip, of course, but
word does get around. How that must have added to your distress.”
Lily tried to give her friend a warning glance, but Ofelia was very deliberately avoiding eye contact. Lily held her breath, waiting for what Frank might say in response.
To her surprise, he glanced at her before he said it. “I am sure the Bow Street fellows are doing their job admirably,” he said, though there was a touch of sarcasm to his voice. “As Mrs. Adler admires their work, I’ll not offend her by maligning them too severely.”
“Even if you wish to?” Ofelia said sympathetically, her expression growing ever so slightly impish. “You can blame me for being a bad influence, if you wish, and I am sure Mrs. Adler will not hold it against you.”
At that, Frank laughed. “Thank you, my lady. I have not had many opportunities to laugh of late.” He sighed, his expression growing more serious. “Truthfully, I wish the whole business were done.”
“I am sure Lady Wyatt feels the same,” Lily said. “How is she? The last I saw her, she seemed so dreadfully fatigued.”
“Unfortunately, I cannot really say, nor will I have many more opportunities for reporting on her welfare. Winnie is preparing to return to her mother’s home, permanently.” At their twin looks of surprise, he shrugged. “It is an awkward business, to be sure, but the house comes to me, not her. And I don’t think she is comfortable staying much longer.”
“Surely you will visit, though,” Ofelia said encouragingly. “Or at the very least, correspond.”
“Perhaps,” Frank said vaguely before he turned to Lily. “I’ve no wish to interrupt your walk more than I already have, but I wonder if you might ask your father to call on me this evening? We leave for Devonshire tomorrow, and I should be grateful to have his opinion on several matters that my father left in an unfortunate state before we go.”
“I am sure he will be delighted. My father so enjoys telling other people what to do.”
Frank gave her a wry smile. “My thanks. Good day to you both, Lady Carroway, Mrs. Adler.” He bowed to each of them before taking Lily’s hand and brushing a quick kiss over it. “Perhaps I will have cause to see you in Devon later this year.” He smiled as he said it, his eyes meeting hers briefly before he released her hand and turned away.
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