Lady Margaret's Mystery Gentleman

by Christine Merrill

  David waited a few moments until they were out of sight before entering the shop himself to retrieve Peg. She was there, admiring a case of painted fans, hardly recognisable under the heavy veil he had suggested she wear.

  He came up beside her and touched her lightly on the arm. ‘Our coach awaits.’

  She raised her head in recognition, but said nothing in response until they were shut up in the carriage and safely alone. Then, she raised her veil and turned to stare at him, her expression sombre. ‘What are your plans for the day?’

  He reached into his pocket and found the letter he had written her on the previous evening, thrusting it towards her. ‘First, my apology for yesterday.’

  Her eyes widened and as she read, her harsh expression eased into something warmer. When she was finished, she tapped the paper lightly against her knee. ‘This is...’

  ‘Insufficient. I know,’ he said. ‘There is so much more I could say.’

  ‘No,’ she said hurriedly, folding it and tucking it into her reticule. ‘It is fine as it is.’

  He smiled, relieved. ‘That is good to know. I did not mean to offend you. And I am sorry that my friend was not more worthy of your sister’s affections. But you must believe that I am not like that.’

  ‘I think it will take more time for you to prove the fact to me,’ she said with a slight smile. ‘That is why I am giving you a second chance to do so.’

  He relaxed back into his seat as the tension of the previous day released. ‘Thank you.’

  ‘Now, will you tell me our goal for the day?’ she asked, adjusting her bonnet.

  ‘We are going to interview a member of your brother’s club,’ he said. ‘That is why you must be veiled. We cannot have him recognising you as Scofield’s sister—for your sake and for the sake of the investigation.’

  ‘Of course,’ she agreed, dropping the lace back into place. They had arrived at the little house again, and he let them in using the key, escorting her to the sitting room and waiting for a knock at the door. He went to answer and returned to introduce her to the visitor.

  ‘This is Mr Hathaway,’ he said to Peg, offering the man no return introduction to her. ‘He has agreed to help us fill in the details of the time before Dick Sterling disappeared.’

  ‘For a price,’ Hathaway reminded him. ‘I would not normally consider it, but I am a little short on funds at the moment, and...’ He turned out a coat pocket to demonstrate that it was empty.

  ‘Of course,’ David said smoothly, reaching into his own pocket and producing a pile of pound notes, resting them on his knee. ‘But let us hear your story first. What happened on the night of April the fifteenth, this year?’

  ‘I was at the club,’ the other fellow said. ‘Minding my own business, of course. But there are rare times when something happens that is impossible to ignore.’

  ‘And what would that be?’ David pressed.

  ‘Scofield arrived after dinner. He was already the worse for drink and in a hell of a temper.’

  Peg gasped beneath her veil, either at the curse or the unflattering description of her brother.

  David considered warning the man to watch his language in the presence of a lady, but decided he did not deserve even that much information about Peg, lest he try to guess her identity. ‘And was Scofield often in that condition?’ David prompted, returning to the interview.

  ‘That month?’ Hathaway smiled and nodded. ‘He was more moderate, before and since. But that was the month that his mistress left him. It was a great public embarrassment.’

  ‘And he responded badly to it?’ David asked.

  ‘He snapped at anyone who spoke to him and downed brandy after brandy until the porter began to worry that he might drink himself to death.’

  ‘And how did this influence his behaviour around Richard Sterling?’ David asked.

  ‘Sterling was the man who stole his mistress,’ Hathaway said with a laugh. ‘Apparently, she threw Scofield over with no warning at all. It was not as if the fellow was ungenerous. As I understand it, he could offer her twice what Sterling could. But she did not seem to care a whit for the jewels and money. She took a fancy to Sterling and that was all that mattered.’

  ‘Did Sterling gloat over his success?’

  ‘He did indeed,’ the man replied with a grin. ‘He told all that would listen that we could not blame the lady for choosing the better man. It was no fault of his if he happened to be that.’

  David could feel the woman on the other end of the sofa vibrating with indignation at this slight, but she said nothing.

  ‘And did they meet often at the club?’ David asked.

  ‘Hell, no,’ Hathaway said with a wave of his hand. ‘The rest of the members did their best to keep the two of them apart. Scofield has the devil of a temper and we were not sure what might happen should the two of them meet face to face.’

  ‘Until April the fifteenth,’ David finished.

  ‘Too true,’ Hathaway replied. ‘Dick had been playing cards at the club all afternoon, and there had been no sign of the Duke. But then he arrived, drunk as a lord and ready for a fight.’

  David felt another outraged twitch from the veiled woman at his side. It must be difficult for her to hear what others thought of her brother. But she had come here for the truth and now she must face it.

  ‘And what was Sterling’s response to this?’ David asked.

  ‘He did not take it the least bit seriously. The Duke challenged him and he replied that he was not going to answer a man in no condition to make such threats. He suggested that Scofield try again tomorrow when the wine was out of his system.’

  ‘What did the Duke say to that?’

  ‘It only made him angrier. He issued a series of insults, any one of which would be sufficient to instigate a duel. Sterling laughed at all of them, reminding him that he was not as foolish as to challenge a peer, much less be insulted by a man who was too drunk to know the repercussions of his words.’

  ‘What did the Duke do then?’ David asked, leaning forward in his seat, eager for the rest of the story.

  ‘He cursed Sterling, his mother and all his family, and said if the man would not meet him on the field of honour, he would kill him where he stood. Then he lunged for the fellow’s throat and had to be dragged bodily from the room.’

  ‘Was Sterling frightened by the threat?’

  ‘He did not seem to be. He announced that love made men do strange things and it would be unfair to hold the peer responsible for something he was likely to regret in the morning. All the same, we persuaded Dick to leave for the night, so as not to antagonise Scofield any further.’

  ‘And was this the last time you saw Sterling alive?’ David pressed.

  Hathaway gave a sombre nod. ‘He was pulled from the river two days later.’

  ‘And Scofield,’ he prompted. ‘What was his reaction to the death of the man he’d argued with?’

  ‘I would say he had no reaction at all,’ Hathaway replied with a confused frown. ‘The announcement of the death was made at the club when he was present. And, of course, those of us who were there for the argument looked immediately to him to see what he would say. He announced that it was unfortunate. But there was nothing in his expression to hint at sincere grief or regret.’

  ‘Did he look guilty?’ Peg blurted, unable to remain silent any longer.

  Hathaway started at the sound of her voice, then answered her question. ‘No, I would not say so. He showed no real emotion of any kind. We might as well have been telling him of the death of a stranger.’

  David cast a glance in Peg’s direction to watch for any reaction that might be seen through her disguise. She was very still for a moment, then asked, ‘Did he seem surprised?’

  Hathaway was still as well, thinking. ‘I cannot remember. I do not think he was anticipating the ne
ws, if that is what you mean. There was no agitation in him before the word was brought to us. It seemed to be just another day to him.’

  Peg nodded in response, apparently satisfied by the answer.

  Hathaway had clearly come to the end of the story and was eyeing the stack of notes that David held out to him. David passed him the money without a word.

  ‘I would rather this not get back to Scofield,’ Hathaway said, tucking the money in his pocket. ‘It would be dashed awkward if he were to think I was telling tales.’

  ‘Awkward for all of us,’ David said, with a quirk of his lips. ‘Do not worry, I have no intention of revealing my sources.’

  ‘Very good,’ the other man said and rose and left without another word.

  There was a moment of silence between them, now that they were alone. Then Peg slowly raised her veil.

  ‘Well?’ David said and waited for her reaction.

  ‘It does sound rather incriminating,’ Peg admitted. ‘But I cannot imagine that my brother would be so stupid.’

  David started. ‘What do you mean by that?’

  ‘In my experience, which has lasted the length of my life, he is quite the cleverest member of the family,’ she said. ‘And I cannot imagine, even while drunk, that he would threaten a man in public and go through with the murder without making an effort to disguise his part in it. If he did, everyone would suspect him.’

  ‘That is exactly what happened in this case,’ David reminded her.

  ‘But would it not make more sense to wait a few days at least, so that such suspicions would die?’

  ‘There is such a thing as a crime of passion,’ David said. ‘Perhaps he was unable to control his actions.’

  Again, she could not seem to believe the obvious. ‘There are many things I might call my brother,’ she said. ‘Dictatorial, stuffy, unreasonable...’ Her words trailed off as she realised that they were hardly a defence. ‘But the one thing I would never believe was that he was easily overcome by passion. When he is at home, he is almost excessively reasonable.’

  ‘There is always a first time,’ David said. ‘Or in this case, a first and second time.’

  Peg sighed. ‘It just seems so far outside his character.’

  ‘It is not definitive proof,’ David agreed. ‘But it is suspicious.’

  ‘Perhaps,’ she said. ‘But you will have to find someone who has witnessed the crimes or seen some evidence that can be linked directly to Hugh. You will never get me to turn against him based on what appears to be the truth,’ she said and rose to go. Then she stopped, as if realising that there was no point in storming out in a huff if she needed his help to get home.

  As she sank back into her seat, he reached out to lay a hand on hers to reassure her. ‘I do not expect you to change your opinion until you are sure. But you might be able to change mine if you can find some detail in the first murder that I do not know. What happened on the night your father died?’

  ‘My recollections?’ She furrowed her brow. ‘I remember much of what happened after, but there is very little from what happened before.’

  ‘Think,’ he urged. ‘You or your sister might hold a key that we do not even know is missing.’

  She pulled her hand away from his grasp and pressed her balled fists against her forehead as if it might be possible to force the memories out of her head. Then, she closed her eyes and took a deep breath, trying to concentrate.

  ‘There was an argument at dinner,’ she said at last.

  ‘Really,’ he said. ‘What was it about?’

  ‘There were so many arguments,’ she said, still trying to focus. ‘They were always about money. Hugh had run through his allowance again. Father said it was because he was a spendthrift. Hugh said it was because the amount was insufficient to maintain a normal life.’

  ‘And what did your father say to that?’

  ‘He was adamant that there would be no increase. Hugh must learn to live within his means.’

  ‘And your brother’s response?’

  ‘Was to remind Father that, when he died, the money would all belong to Hugh and he would do what he wished with it. Then he stormed away from the table.’

  David stared back at her, not bothering to comment on how damning this sounded, for she must realise that herself.

  ‘This was almost two years ago,’ she said, as if that justified it. ‘He is a much different person now.’

  ‘I am more concerned with who he was then,’ David said.

  Peg grimaced. ‘I wish there were something I could remember that cast things in a better light.’

  No wonder she had not wanted to remember. Her version of events sounded as damning as anything he had found about Scofield’s temper. ‘And what happened after dinner?’ he asked, hoping for her sake that she could find some scrap of information that supported her beliefs.

  ‘I went to my room to read,’ she said with a shrug. ‘I wish I could tell you otherwise. I was upstairs and on the far side of the house when the crime occurred, deeply engrossed in a novel. At half past eleven, I heard a commotion downstairs.’

  ‘What sort of a commotion?’ he pressed.

  ‘There was screaming,’ she said. ‘And a few moments later, the sound of running feet. And then shouting. I went downstairs to see what the matter was and the housekeeper met me in the hall and escorted me right back to my room. There was already a hot water bottle and brandy waiting for me. She told me that Father had been killed and that it was nothing that anyone wanted me to see or be involved in.’

  ‘So, you truly saw nothing.’

  ‘I was not allowed downstairs until the next morning. By then, the body was gone and the room had been cleaned.’ She shuddered, as if imagining what she had not seen. ‘It was strange. I expected to feel more grief than I did at Father’s passing. But, if I am to be honest, the house was a much better place without him in it. If you asked Liv, she would probably agree with me. Our father had little time or understanding for either of us.’

  David blinked in surprise. ‘Did no one mourn for the old Duke?’

  ‘Of the three of us, Hugh was by far the most upset.’

  ‘Really?’

  She nodded. ‘I did not see him do anything as extreme as crying. But he did admit that he regretted the things he’d said at dinner. And since, he has been a changed man, much more moderate in word and action.’

  ‘At home, perhaps,’ he reminded her. ‘Remember what you have just heard.’

  She shook her head. ‘You asked me what I knew from home. When he is there, he displays a far more moderate temperament than he did before Father died. He is unreasonably strict with us, but he does not make mad threats or even raise his voice.’

  ‘Very well,’ he replied. ‘But his change of heart immediately after the murder might have been the actions of a guilty man, trying to hide his involvement in a crime.’

  ‘Or the perfectly reasonable changes necessary when he became a peer and the head of the household,’ Peg countered. ‘Once Father was gone, it fell on him, overnight, to grow to be the man the family needed. He changed from being just my big brother to the person responsible for my care and future.’

  Her explanation sounded reasonable, until he remembered the way Scofield had behaved towards his friend. Apparently, any maturity he’d gained on taking the title had been short-lived. But it would do him no good to harp on it, if he wanted the continued trust and affection of the woman sitting beside him.

  He reached for her hand again, twining his fingers with hers. ‘Your loyalty to him does you credit. But what if you are wrong? What will happen to you when he is called to answer for his crimes?’

  ‘Alleged crimes,’ she corrected.

  He gave a resigned shrug. ‘For now, at least. But consider, for a moment, that I might be right. If he is found guilty of murder, they will
likely strip the title from him. And where does that leave you?’

  She gave him a sad smile. ‘If you truly care about me, we must hope that will not happen. Now tell me what our next move will be.’

  He reached into his pocket to check his watch. ‘I had hoped to do more today. These rooms need to be searched before Scofield realises we have found them. But we must get you home before you are missed.’

  She nodded. ‘These shopping trips do not allow much time for substantive investigation. But suppose I were to sneak out of the house at night? After the household retires, no one will think to look for me until morning.’

  His breath caught in his throat at the thought of so much uninterrupted time alone with her. ‘Do you really think you can get away?’

  She smiled. ‘We will have to see, won’t we? If you have a carriage waiting for me tonight at ten, in the street behind our back garden, I will find a way to escape.’

  He brought her hand to his lips, pressing a kiss into the palm. ‘I will come for you myself. But for now, we must get you home. We have a busy night ahead of us.’

  Chapter Twelve

  Once she was safely at home, Peg pulled David’s letter of apology from her reticule to read again.

  Dearest Peg

  Dearest was a lovely way to begin. Not quite as good as ‘my dearest’, but it would do.

  Despite the way my friend behaved to your sister, I assure you I would never treat your affection in such a casual way.

  She stared at the words, trying to decide if she was reading too much into them. The next line was easier to understand.

  I hold you in the highest esteem and am devastated that I might have ruined the bond we have developed by my careless support of a man who was unworthy of my loyalty.

  He held her in esteem and felt they had a bond. That was much clearer.