The moment Pru breezed through the door of Dorchester House the next morning, her eyes gleamed. “What did Mr. Murphy have to say?” Without looking, she doffed her muff and cloak and handed both to the butler.
Katherine raised an eyebrow. “Hello to you too.” She’d been expecting Pru to stop by. When Katherine had left the monthly Society meeting the prior evening, Pru had been deep in conversation with Lady Brackley and reluctant to leave. Philomena had promised to take her home later in the evening.
After stamping her feet on the runner, thereby clearing her boots of snow, Pru followed Katherine upstairs to the library, where Katherine had been making notes on the case. A silver tea service and two overturned teacups had been placed on the round oak table that sat between two chairs. “Tea?” Katherine asked.
“Only if you’ll answer my question while you pour. I saw you speaking with him at length last night over the parchment I’d provided him.”
Katherine perched on the edge of one of the velvety maroon armchairs and indicated for Pru to take the other. As she leaned back, a yelp prompted her to jump up again. Emma peeked her head out from behind the cushion, where she’d been resting. She glared at Katherine, her nose twitching at the interruption.
“Sorry, girl. What were you doing behind there? Are you hiding from Harriet again?”
The moment Katherine patted her head, the dog’s disapproving demeanor disappeared. Her lips parted, and her pink tongue fell out one side as she raised her face, happy for the attention. Katherine plucked her out from behind the cushion and settled the dog on her lap as she met Pru’s gaze once more.
“Do tell. Did Mr. Murphy conclude the matter to be murder?” Pru’s eyes sparkled with the promise of a new case to investigate.
Katherine leaned forward and carefully overturned the teacups. Pru was so eager for information that Katherine couldn’t help but tease her by delaying the answer. “You can call him Lyle. We are all friends.”
“The only man I need to refer to by his given name is my future husband.”
“Then why do you still refer to him as Annandale?”
“Katherine.” Pru batted away a strand of her dark hair.
She refused to relent. Her lips quirked at the corners as she slowly poured the tea.
“What has you so agitated?”
“Nothing.” Pru fidgeted in her chair.
Katherine took pity. “Lyle confirmed it was murder. We’ll have an investigation to conduct, just as you’d hoped.”
Pru winced. Her teacup rattled in its saucer as she drew it onto her lap. “I didn’t mean for someone to die for my entertainment.”
“Of course you didn’t.”
Emma lifted her head upon hearing the conviction in Katherine’s voice.
Stroking her pet absently, Katherine added, “What made you think I’d believe something so heinous about you? Did someone at the meeting last night imply as much?”
“Pardon?” Pru raised her gaze from the liquid in her teacup and blinked rapidly. “No. Of course not. It was a delightful event.”
Something was clearly on Pru’s mind, but Katherine knew the other woman would tell her when the time was right.
Pru pursed her lips as she lifted her teacup halfway to her mouth. She didn’t drink. “Have you heard anything about Lord Rochford?”
As Katherine reached for her tea, she tried not to frown. “I don’t know him well. He’s of an age with Papa and doesn’t run in my social circles. Why?”
“I meant, have you heard anything about him since the death of his wife.”
Until Lyle had confirmed it was murder, Katherine hadn’t wanted to devote too much time and resources into the investigation. The upset seamstress they’d encountered yesterday was only one example of the kind of upset they would spread if they started asking questions unduly.
Given Lyle’s calculation about where her body had landed, the police were starting to look into the death as more than an accident, but still the general public was unaware of that. Once Katherine started asking uncomfortable questions, there would undoubtedly be some resistance.
“I haven’t looked into Lord Rochford yet.”
“Shouldn’t you?” Pru asked. “I heard at the meeting last night that the culprit is almost always the husband.”
Katherine frowned. “Were you discussing Lady Rochford’s investigation?”
“Of course not. Lady Brackley was discussing the research she had done. Did you know she’s writing a book?”
“She’s written one. Several, I believe, though I’ve only read the first.”
“Perhaps I’ll borrow it, if you have it handy.”
Katherine set her teacup and the saucer on the table and placed Emma on the floor. “Of course. I believe it’s right over here.”
Katherine scanned the leather spines lined up in one of the tall oak bookcases.
“Don’t you think Lord Rochford ought to be the first person we investigate?” Pru asked.
“Did you find him disingenuous in his grief the other night?” Katherine asked over her shoulder as she moved to the next case.
“He seemed inconsolable… but that doesn’t mean he didn’t do it. He was at the ball, and he didn’t appear outside right away. He would have had plenty of time to throw her off then run back down to the ballroom. What if he threw her off the balcony in a fit of rage and later regretted it?”
Katherine paused, turning to look her friend in the eye. “The thought crossed my mind the other night, but that was before I knew she was pregnant. If she was carrying his heir, what possible motive could he have for killing her before the baby was born? Lord Rochford has waited a long time for an heir, so I doubt he’d take that gamble even if they did have a spat.”
“It would account for how devastated he was,” Pru countered. “Didn’t you mention she had some kind of wounds? Perhaps there was a fight.”
“A scrape on her finger. It really wasn’t much and could have happened in any number of ways. Maybe the police will find more evidence of a fight.”
A slim smirk ghosting across her face, Pru said, “What if the child wasn’t Lord Rochford’s?”
Katherine shook her head. “Let’s not accuse Lady Rochford of infidelity without proof. She was a friend of my stepmother’s. They were both trying to conceive, I’ll have you know.”
Katherine bent down to scan the lower shelves. Where had she put that darn book?
“Are we certain that Lord Rochford knew his wife was pregnant?”
That was a question Katherine hadn’t considered. Papa knew that Susanna was pregnant. Why wouldn’t Lady Rochford have told her husband? It was a moment of joy and hope that an heir was on the way. Although if Lady Rochford had as long a history of miscarriage, as Katherine’s stepmother did…
“If you were pregnant, would you tell Annandale?”
Pru’s mouth dropped open as she straightened. “Don’t be crass! Annandale and I haven’t”—she paused to swallow audibly, her cheeks coloring—“anticipated our vows.”
“I didn’t mean to offend. After the wedding, wouldn’t you want to tell your husband straight away?”
“I’d rather not answer that question,” Pru answered, but dimples formed in her chin as she frowned.
Katherine abandoned her search for the book and turned to her friend. “Is something wrong?” She held Pru’s gaze until the other woman’s shoulders bowed in defeat.
“Annandale is due to arrive back in town this evening.”
Katherine smiled. “That’s good news, isn’t it?”
“What if he’s forgotten me?”
“He’s sent you letters every week.”
Pru shrugged, not meeting Katherine’s gaze. “Perhaps he has, but what if he’s romanticized our connection and forgotten the reality?”
“What do you mean?”
“He might remember me prettier and be disappointed when he sees me again.”
Katherine nearly laughed, but the look on Pru’s face told her that her friend was serious in her fear.
“Do you remember him handsomer than he is? Will you be disappointed when he comes back from Scotland with ice crystals in his beard?”
Lord Annandale, not one to follow the fashions of High Society and a bit wild at heart, as he’d confessed once to Katherine, wore a beard that he kept meticulously groomed, along with his auburn hair. If that hadn’t repelled Pru, Katherine didn’t know why her friend would assume that an unflattering dress or the way she styled her hair would move her fiancé to reconsider.
Aha! Katherine spotted the book on the bottom shelf, pulled it out, and returned to her chair.
“Of course not.” Pru accepted the book from Katherine with a nod. “But he’s devastatingly handsome, and you know it. Women would line up for miles for the chance to marry him.”
“Because of his title and wealth,” Katherine reminded her. “You are the woman he’s shown his heart to. That makes you far more dear to him than some diamond of the first water.”
Pru’s mouth curved in a wry expression. “Aren’t you supposed to tell me I’m a diamond of the first water?”
“Would you believe me if I did?”
Pru chuckled. “No.” After a beat, she added, “With your taste in dresses, I have to wonder that you aren’t blind.”
“You’re worried for nothing,” Katherine assured her friend. “Lord Annandale will be delighted to be reunited with his bride-to-be. It is long overdue.”
Pru looked down again at Emma, who panted happily at her feet. “Perhaps you’re right.”
“I know I am,” Katherine answered with conviction. They exchanged a smile.
A sharp, relieved exhalation echoed from the doorway, making both women jump. Katherine turned to find Harriet there, her cheeks flushed, looking out of breath. She pointed a finger at Katherine.
Emma squeaked and dove beneath the table. She had been hiding from Harriet, after all. Katherine had wondered why Emma hadn’t been wearing the ribbon Harriet liked to tie around her collar in a bow.
“You’ve returned,” Katherine announced.
“Was Harriet away?” Pru asked.
Katherine nodded. “I sent her to Dalhousie Manor now that we know for certain Lady Rochford’s death was murder. What did you discover?”
Harriet, braced against the doorframe as she caught her breath, held up her hand. “You said you would wait for me in the parlor. I ran all over the house, looking for you.”
“My apologies. I was distracted. Your findings? Did any of the Dalhousie servants happen to see something?”
Harriet nodded. She took another gulp of air before answering, “They did. Knowing you, you’ll want to speak with them yourself. I’d advise changing your dress.”
Pru smirked. “That’s good advice for Katherine on any day.”
Ignoring her, Harriet waved her hand. “You too, Miss Burwick. You’ll both want to wear something plainer, less conspicuous, or the servants will know you for high women in an instant.”
“Me?” Pru pressed a hand to her chest. “I don’t even have a lady’s maid.”
“You are going to be a marchioness,” Katherine reminded her. “You’re as lofty as I am in the eyes of the working class now.” She winked. “Very well, Harriet, but we may have to borrow something.”
Harriet looked at the pair and sighed. “I don’t have anything nearly long enough to fit the two of you. Come, let’s see what you have, Lady Katherine. Perhaps you have something that will do.”
Katherine’s ankles were cold. Her thin stockings were no barrier against the winter chill even with the scuffed ankle-high boots Harriet had lobbied one of the maids to allow Katherine to borrow. The dress Harriet had found for her was tight across the hips and loose across the bosom, the opposite of how these placket-front dresses were supposed to fit.
A dowdy brown, the sort of color she should consider investing in, for it would certainly ward away male attention, the dress ended at mid-calf. Coupled with a borrowed shift that reached no further, the outfit was as warm as the Arctic. Even though she’d insisted on a long cloak to cover her exposed legs, the walk from Dorchester House to Dalhousie Manor, ten minutes away, had chilled her to the bone. Harriet had insisted that, posing as they were as servants, they could not take the Dorchester carriage.
Pru looked no more pleased, clad in a threadbare black cloak and a dress that might once have been green but had yellowed with far too many washes. Hers, at least, fell properly from the empire waist just beneath her breasts, though it, too, fell short of the tops of her boots.
“I don’t see why this is necessary,” Pru grumbled as they stamped their feet while waiting for someone to answer Harriet’s knock on the servants’ door. The servants’ entrance was located around the side of the house where, if Katherine squinted, she could see the vague shapes of the ice sculptures still standing in the garden out back. The gravel walk was covered in a fresh layer of ice. Unlike with the front steps, this walk hadn’t been freely salted to discourage falling. Katherine clung to Pru for balance.
“I already told you,” Harriet answered over her shoulder. “The women would find speaking to an earl’s daughter too intimidating. They’d never think she would believe their tale over that of a peer. Even if one of the servants would recognize your faces, they will never make the connection to who you really are in these clothes.”
“We could have left Katherine at home.”
Katherine straightened and tugged her arm away. “This is my investigation too, or had you forgotten?”
Pru merely shrugged, unconcerned and clearly uncomfortable.
Thankfully, the door was soon opened by a short, mousy woman who blinked often. “Harriet,” she greeted, her voice as timid as her demeanor. “Are these the friends you spoke of?”
“Yes. Thank you for waiting for me, Peggy. We won’t keep you from your duties long.”
Peggy stepped aside, glancing nervously over her shoulder as she waited for the trio to enter Lady Dalhousie’s manor. Once they did, she shut the door and announced, “Not here. We have too great a chance of being found out. Come upstairs.”
Peggy led them up four flights of stairs and down a narrow corridor past a line of closed doors to a tiny room with a window no wider than Katherine’s forearm. It was set into the slanted wall, gazing out into the sky dappled with clouds. The bed, neatly made, held the maid’s nightgown, neatly folded on the white linen. Aside from the bed, there was little space to sit. In fact, once the door was shut, there was scarcely any place to stand. A short, narrow chest of drawers and a nightstand were the only other furnishings.
Peggy indicated for Harriet to take the bed. When she declined, Peggy perched on the edge herself. She paid no attention to Pru or Katherine.
Harriet stepped closer to the maid. “It’s all right, Peggy. Tell them what you told me. Tell them what you saw the night Lady Rochford died.”
Instead of answering, the maid looked down at her hands. She wrung her skirts and worried her lower lip. “It might have been nothing. Thoroughly unconnected.”
“Peggy.” Harriet put her hand on her friend’s shoulder. “Please. It might be useful.”
After a few more rapid flutters of her eyelashes, Peggy looked at no one in particular and confessed, “I went up to fetch more candles for the ballroom, as we were running low, and her ladyship wouldn’t much like it if her ballroom was doused in shadows.”
Katherine exchanged a glance with Pru as she chose her words carefully. “Is that unusual?”
“Oh, no.” Peggy shook her head. Strands of her hair clung to the side of her mouth. She didn’t appear to notice.
The fact that she was so consumed by her own thoughts likely played in Katherine’s favor. The housemaid glanced at the floor so often, it was a wonder she hadn’t yet noticed that Katherine and Pru’s dresses didn’t quite fit.
After a moment spent clenching her fists tight in her skirts, Peggy continued, “But on my way to fetch the candlesticks, I spotted Lady Rochford’s driver on the third floor of the house, in the same wing as she—” The maid shook her head, her cheeks draining of color. “He had no right to be there, but he’s known for chasing the maids, so I gave him a wide berth and let him be. What if I…” Her eyelashes fluttered again, and Katherine saw a glint of what she thought was moisture.
“You did nothing wrong,” she assured the distraught woman. “Even if Lady Rochford’s driver had some hand in the murder—and that is by no means guaranteed—what do you think he would have done to a woman who got in his way? You did right.”
“Even better by telling us,” Pru added.
“How close was this to the time when Lady Rochford went over the balcony?”
Peggy worried her lip again. “I don’t remember. I’m terribly sorry.”
“It’s fine,” Harriet comforted. She patted the woman’s shoulder again. “Take a moment and breathe. It’ll come to you.”
“Try not to think of the fall,” Katherine advised. “You said you were going up to fetch candles. Lady Rochford hadn’t fallen at that point, had she?”
“Dear Heavens, no.” Peggy pressed a hand to her chest. “I remember when she did. I heard the scream.”
“And where were you at that time?”
She blinked hard. “Upstairs, with an armful of candles. I dropped them and came running at the sound.”
“Is that when you encountered Lady Rochford’s driver?”
“No, that was on the way up. I didn’t see anyone when I came down again. Except…”
When she paused, Katherine took a small step forward. She tried her best to look approachable. “Except for who?”
“No one… inside. But as I passed a window, I saw a figure exiting the servants’ entrance, the one by which you entered.”
“Did you recognize the person?”
Peggy shook her head. “I’m afraid not. It was too dark, and they had the hood of their cloak up. I think it was a woman—the cloak looked feminine. Black, but it had an ermine fur trim around the hood and hem. It wasn’t the cloak of a serving girl.”
“Did she go around to the front, where the drivers might have been waiting with the carriages?”
“I hurried down the stairs and didn’t see where she went. The drivers all wait in the livery down the street, where it’s warm.”
Katherine frowned. If that was the case, then it was doubly odd for a driver to be found on the third floor of the house. What could Lady Rochford’s driver have been doing here? Chasing skirts, like Peggy suggested, or something more sinister?
“Can you think of anything else unusual that you saw or heard that night?”
Wiping her eyes, Peggy shook her head. “No. I’m sorry. I knew I wouldn’t be of much use.”
Harriet squeezed the maid’s shoulder. “You’ve been a wonderful help. Thank you. I’m going to sneak down to the kitchen to say hello to Gertie before I leave. I’ll show us out, so you don’t have to worry about manning the door.”
Nodding, Peggy lifted her gaze toward Harriet and gave a watery smile. “Try not to be seen. Her ladyship is still bemoaning the ruin of her ice ball. I don’t think she’d take kindly to knowing there were visitors in the house.”
“We’ll keep to servants’ corridors,” Harriet assured her.
As they bundled into the narrow corridor, Harriet warned with her eyes for them to remain silent. They would speak of their findings later. She shut the door, leaving Peggy in peace to collect herself. The moment the door was closed, Harriet whispered, “My friend in the kitchen, Gertie, saw someone as well. Since we’re already here, you might as well hear the tale from her.”
Katherine nodded. “Thank you, Harriet. I know you don’t care for investigating. We appreciate the help.”
With a small sigh, Harriet muttered to herself as she passed. “As if I could sit idly by with a murderer on the prowl.”
Katherine frowned. Perhaps her enthusiasm for investigation was rubbing off on her maid too.
They retraced their steps through the house until they reached the door by which they had entered. From there, Harriet led the way down a marginally wider corridor toward the kitchen. The heat of the ovens soaked into Katherine’s bones as she neared, a comfort. Unfortunately, Harriet stopped shy of the door. She shooed Katherine and Pru into the larder and promised to return shortly with her friend.
Pru whispered, “Are we looking at the driver now instead of the husband? Perhaps he pushed Lady Rochford on behalf of the baron.”
Katherine shook her head. “It’s suspicious for him to be in the house, I’ll admit, but we mustn’t jump to conclusions. I’ve done that before, and it’s clouded my judgment.”
“But it’s worked out in the end. We need an angle, a suspect to investigate.”
“And we’ll have one,” Katherine assured her. “But I must do this right, for Susanna’s sake.”
“Then how would you have us proceed?”
Katherine held up a finger. “First of all, by hearing what this friend of Harriet’s has to say. It’s possible the two tales will conflict horribly.”
Pru frowned. “You mean the way Peggy’s did? She all but announced that she thought Lady Rochford’s driver to be the murderer then turned around and confessed to watching a woman flee the scene of the crime!”
“Peggy saw Lady Rochford’s driver in the house. But how much time had passed between then and when she was pushed off the balcony? Peggy admitted that she can’t recall. It might have been ten or fifteen minutes, for all we know, or it might only have been five. Unless someone else is willing to admit they saw him on the third floor, we cannot know for certain.”
“And the woman fleeing the house?”
“She might be a suspect, but again, the timing is suspect. Peggy claimed she heard the scream and saw the woman out the window as she ran downstairs. Would there be enough time to push Lady Rochford and make it all the way to the servants’ entrance in order to have been seen by Peggy?”
The ajar door swung open to reveal Harriet next to a motherly woman near her height. Harriet ushered her inside and shut the door behind them once more. “Gertie, these are the friends I was speaking to you about. I’d like you to tell them what you told me, if you’d please.”
Rather than acting timid or upset at the prospect of confessing what she’d seen, the woman narrowed her eyes and studied Katherine and Pru from head to toe. She lingered near Katherine’s ankles, where her stockings showed above her boots. The urge to cover herself was nearly overwhelming.
She met Gertie’s gaze plainly.
“Your friends, you say?” the cook asked.
“I am her friend,” Katherine declared. “We’ll take only a moment of your time.”
“You must be cold, dressed as you are. Did Harriet say you served at Dorchester House with her?”
Katherine gritted her teeth. From the corner of her eye, she noticed Harriet shift in place. She clasped her hands in front of her and spoke firmly. “I do not, but we’ve crossed paths there a time or two.”
The grooves around Gertie’s mouth deepened as she made a suspicious noise. “Your master cannot afford to give you new clothes?”
“I had a recent growth spurt. You know how it is, as long as it fits ’round the middle…” Katherine tugged on the material uncomfortably tight over her hips. “Harriet told me you saw something unusual the other night?”
For a moment, she feared that Gertie would keep whatever it was she had seen to herself. The woman’s lips tightened, and her eyes narrowed as she studied Katherine once more as if to gauge whether she was trustworthy. Next to her, Pru tensed.
Katherine waited, trying to keep her stance relaxed and her expression open. Despite the nerves stinging beneath her skin, she didn’t press Gertie further. Instead, she waited for the woman to reach her own conclusions.
At last, the cook admitted, “I saw a woman, cloaked, shortly after the time of the accident.”
“A black cloak?” Pru asked, her voice loud.
Gertie frowned. “No. Royal blue. I’m quite certain. She passed by the light of the scullery as I was washing up. I saw her through the window.”
Katherine asked, “Did you recognize her?”
“No,” the cook answered after a moment’s pause. “I never saw her face.”
“The cloak, did it have ermine trim?”
Gertie’s frown deepened. “No. Are you looking for someone in particular?”
Merely hoping to get the story straight.
This proved Katherine’s earlier point on witnesses being unreliable. One woman saw a black cloak with ermine trim. One saw a blue cloak with no trim. Could be the maid imagined the trim or the cook didn’t see it. Neither had seen the woman’s face. Gertie undoubtedly had seen the person more closely, given that Peggy had glanced out a window on the second or third floor when she’d seen this fleeing figure.
Wait… “Is the scullery near the servants’ entrance at the side of the house?”
“No. The scullery is near the back. Closer to the main street. The servants’ entrance is on the side street.” Clearly exasperated, the woman turned to Harriet. “Did you want to hear my tale or concoct your own? I don’t have time for this. I have chores to be about.”
As the woman turned and strode from the room, leaving the door open in her wake, Harriet opened her mouth.
“It’s fine, Harriet. I trust she told us all she told you?”
The maid nodded.
“Then all we have to do is piece together the truth of the matter.”
Pru frowned as she mulled over the problem. “I do see what you mean about unreliable testimony. What color was the cloak?”
“I don’t think it matters at the moment so much as the fact that two people have confirmed seeing a woman fleeing the scene of the crime.”
“But… if she was seen coming out the servants’ entrance and then going past the scullery, that means she didn’t go toward the livery, because that is in the opposite direction. Where was she headed?” Harriet asked.
“Good question,” Pru said. “Is this mysterious woman, whomever she may be, still our only suspect? We were told outright of the unusual presence of a man near the site of the murder at a time when he could have done it.”
Katherine scouted to ensure that the corridor was clear before she whispered back. “We’ll have to follow that lead as well. We can’t afford to discount any of the clues.”
“And Lord Rochford? Even if he wasn’t specifically seen on the third floor, he might still have done it. His driver might have been scouting to ensure that he wasn’t interrupted. They could be working together.”
“It’s possible,” Katherine answered, her voice tight. “Let’s wait and discuss this outside, where we won’t be overheard.”
Fortunately, the larder wasn’t located far from the door they’d used to gain entry. Harriet led them there directly. Although they passed a young footman going about his chores, he didn’t stop them. He merely nodded at Harriet and continued past.
Outside, Katherine gathered her cloak close around her shoulders and followed in Harriet’s footsteps as they departed Dalhousie Manor and set out down the street. The sludge thrown by passing carriage wheels made for slick footing. As a carriage passed, she tried to pull her cloak around her ankles to save them from the spray. The cold flecks that splattered her stockings chilled her.
“So, what of the husband?” Pru asked when they reached the corner of the street. “Are we to interview him next?”
Katherine acknowledged, “It might be wise. Perhaps we can discover who in his household had driven the family to the ice ball that night. He might have more than one driver.”
Harriet shook her head. “Baron Rochford has only one.”
“How do you know?” Pru accused.
Pausing in her step, Harriet skewered her with a wry look. “I’m Lady Katherine’s abigail. What do you think I do when she’s at events? I wait with the drivers and the other ladies’ maids.” When Pru didn’t question her further, Harriet turned to Katherine and continued to walk. “I know you well enough to know your next question. Yes, one of the footmen could conceivably have taken the driver’s place for that evening. But Peggy’s description of the man matches Rayner, the driver. He has a reputation with women.”
Katherine frowned. “He’s never given you trouble, has he?”
“Nothing I can’t handle.”
Katherine held her gaze for a moment more before nodding. Years ago, when Lyle had taught Katherine some defensive maneuvers in case she found herself in an undesirable situation, he had also instructed Harriet. Harriet had taken great pleasure in executing these moves on Lyle in the most precise and painful of manners. He had underestimated her. Katherine tucked away a smile at the memory.
“Very well. The driver is Rayner. If he’s around Lord Rochford’s home when we call, we can interview him as well.”
A flicker of unease crossed Harriet’s face. “I’ll ask for you to question him without me present. We had a bit of a misunderstanding a few months ago, and as a result, he doesn’t much care for me. I think you’d be more likely to discover the truth if you asked him yourself.”
Katherine nodded. “We’ll approach him on our own, then.”
“Make sure you tell him you’re Lord Dorchester’s daughter. He won’t give you any trouble then.”
She frowned. “Is he so much of a predator?”
“Not a malicious one, like some. He wouldn’t force a woman to accept his attentions, but he does make it abundantly clear when you’ve caught his interest.”
Katherine almost hoped that Rayner was the murderer, simply so that by shutting him away, she would be able to save the women in Mayfair some grief.
“What do his womanizing ways have to do with the murder?” Pru asked. “Unless… Do you think Lady Rochford could have been having an affair with her driver?”
Pru seemed awfully attached to the idea that Lady Rochford had been unfaithful. If she had been the type, wouldn’t Katherine’s stepmother have mentioned it as a possibility as to the motive of her murder?
Katherine chose her words carefully. She didn’t want to discount any theories without just cause, but she didn’t want Pru to run off chasing flights of fancy, either. “It may be possible. Let’s learn more of the situation before we dash to any conclusions.”
Harriet flung out her arm, preventing them from crossing the street as a driver led a team of four at a quick trot. While she checked for further dangers, she said, “I think you’re approaching this investigation the wrong way.”
Pru scowled.
On the other hand, Katherine knew her maid to have a quick mind. What had she seen that Katherine had discounted? “What do you mean?”
“You’re counting everyone as a suspect when there are several you can discount from the beginning. An entire ballroom watched Lady Rochford fall from the balcony. Who was among them? Was her husband? Was anyone conspicuously absent?”
Katherine couldn’t recall where he’d been, only that he’d run out sometime after Lady Rochford fell. However, her breath hitched as she recalled that she had been looking for one man in particular. One man that she hadn’t seen in the ballroom at the time of the death.
“Katherine?” Pru asked, touching her arm lightly. “You have that look about you, like you’ve thought of something. What is it?”
“There is one person I know was missing from the ballroom, but it can’t be him.”
“Who?”
Katherine took a deep breath before she admitted, “We couldn’t find the Marquess of Bath at that time. His grandmother exited into the cold and was ushered inside by someone else. But he’s a good man. I know he is.”
Pru looked grim. “You said yourself we cannot discount any possibilities.”
“Is he even acquainted with Lady Rochford?”
“There’s only one way to find out,” Pru announced. “We’ll have to ask him.”