Katherine adjusted the collar on her pelisse, wishing she’d thought to wear something with a hood. Her ears burned with cold. She and Pru had taken her father’s coach to Lord Rochford’s townhouse. The driver, rather than wait, had deposited them at the door and rumbled off toward the shared livery at the corner of the street. None of the houses in this part of Mayfair was quite large enough to accommodate a livery on the grounds.
Using the large brass knocker, Katherine rapped on the door for a second time.
“Perhaps Lord Rochford isn’t at home,” Pru mused. It had been her idea to visit immediately, before afternoon waned into evening. She held the expensive posy of flowers that they had stopped along the way to purchase. They couldn’t simply enter Lord Rochford’s home and begin questioning him without pretense. Therefore, they had arrived under the guise of offering their condolences, using Katherine’s tenuous connection between Lady Rochford and her stepmother.
“Even if he weren’t at home, his butler would answer the door.” Was something sinister afoot in the house?
Just as Katherine contemplated strolling along the perimeter and peeking into the windows to see for herself, the door was wrenched open by a haggard matron dressed in a smeared apron and simple frock. Her graying hair escaped her coif, flying around her face like a chaotic halo.
“May I help you?” she asked, her voice terse and her expression hard.
“I’m Lady Katherine, Lord Dorchester’s daughter, and this is Miss Burwick. We’re here to call on Lord Rochford and offer our condolences. Is he at home?”
Although Katherine was tall enough to peer over the woman’s head and into the house, nothing she saw offered any explanation for why this person was answering the door rather than the butler. The foyer and corridor were neatly made up, with a single portrait of a beautiful, dark-haired woman that Katherine didn’t recognize hanging on the wall.
“His lordship is not in a fit state to entertain, I’m afraid.”
Drat, that put a damper on Katherine’s plan.
“Are you certain? My family was friends of Lady Rochford’s. My stepmother isn’t fit to venture to offer her condolences personally, so she instructed me to pass them along for her. Sending a posy with a footman seemed too impersonal.” Katherine hadn’t told her stepmother of her plans to interrogate Lord Rochford, and she hoped Susanna had not already come to give condolences. That would be rather awkward indeed.
The woman stared at them for a long moment then stepped aside grudgingly. “I’ll see if his lordship has raised himself far enough from his cups to see you. Wait here.”
Katherine exchanged another glance with Pru. Left unattended in the foyer of a baron’s home? A housekeeper that talked about her master being in his cups?
“This is highly irregular,” Pru muttered.
Katherine couldn’t agree more. Uncertain whether or not to unbutton her pelisse, she decided to keep it on in case they were summarily ejected onto the street. She and Pru waited in silence, the only sound the rustle of their clothing as they shifted position.
A moment later, their patience was rewarded when the matron returned, looking defeated. “He’s awake,” she muttered under her breath. “Which is more than I can say for this time yesterday. I had to throw water on him to rouse him so he could tell his daughter the terrible news. Would he resign her to learning of the death of her stepmother in the news rag? She deserves the dignity of being told the news in person, not by letter.”
A daughter? Katherine frowned. “Does his daughter not live here, then?”
The woman shook her head. “No, milady. She’s Mrs. Dillinger now, grown and married, and thank Heavens too. She didn’t need to see the way his lordship’s second wife slowly wore him down. He was even in love with this one, can you believe?” She raised her gaze to the portrait on the wall, her gaze disapproving.
Lucky thing the housekeeper had a loose tongue. Katherine was shocked, as most servants never talked out of turn. If they did, her investigations would be so much easier. No more pretending to be a maid or cook so that they would gossip to her. Come to think of it, most barons never entertained in the bowels of the house, either. Apparently things at the Rochford house ran a bit differently than most. Tentatively, Katherine asked, “Was he not in love with his first wife?”
“Not near as much as he should have been. Lady Rochford was angelic!”
Interesting that she still referred to the baron’s first wife as Lady Rochford, when the recently deceased Lady Rochford had held that title for years. Although it seemed that the servant had an unceasing loyalty to her first mistress, Katherine wanted to be certain. After all, the woman painted a very different picture of the most recent Lady Rochford than the one Katherine’s stepmother had given.
“Was the second Lady Rochford a poor mistress?”
The matron’s mouth twisted in distaste. Eventually, she admitted, “Not horrid. But she wasn’t as gracious or kind as Her Ladyship. And she had no right to conceive.”
Ahh, so Lord Rochford, and his entire household, did know about the baby. The driver likely knew about it too, then. If there had been an affair and the baby belonged to him, then perhaps he had argued with Lady Rochford...
Pru frowned. “Isn’t that the aim of the wife of a lord, to provide him with an heir?”
Katherine raised an eyebrow at her friend. Pru was soon to marry, but she didn’t seem the type to remain in the bedroom or nursery for the rest of her days. She liked investigating too well. Still, Katherine supposed that didn’t mean she wouldn’t welcome a pregnancy… It was a matter between her and Lord Annandale, something that Katherine had no right to speculate about. They were a long way from marrying, in any case.
The matron scoffed, turning toward the corridor. “If it had been a boy, the baby would have inherited everything and robbed her ladyship’s daughter of her rightful due. She is his heir, if you ask me, though the crown doesn’t see it that way.”
Katherine knew that well. If her new sibling was male, as her father and stepmother hoped, her father’s title and estates would fall to him upon Papa’s death. Katherine had known from the time she could walk that she would never inherit. She had her dowry, which Papa had already released to her on the merit of her solving the Pink Ribbon Murders, and that was quite enough for her.
Had Lord Rochford’s daughter been allotted as hefty a dowry? Her father wasn’t as rich as Papa, being a baron with less extensive estates than the earldom Papa managed. However, he had only one daughter to provide for rather than the five Papa had bequeathed dowries upon.
“If you’re set on giving your condolences to his lordship, I suggest you don’t tarry. It won’t be long before he starts reaching for the brandy again.”
Clearly, they weren’t going to receive any more information from her. Katherine nodded stiffly and, with her pelisse still on, followed the woman down the corridor into a parlor.
It smelled to high Heaven in there. The cushions from the armchair had been thrown across the room. A vase lay smashed on the floor, flowers strewn all over the oriental carpet. Lord Rochford sat in that wing-backed chair, a brooding master. His hair was disheveled, the gray strands sticking up at odd angles. His weathered cheeks were covered in a thick layer of stubble. His jacket was absent; there was no sign of it in the room. He wore his waistcoat unbuttoned, and his shirt was pulled from his breeches. Katherine didn’t want to contemplate the stains on the white linen. He was clearly a broken man.
“Lord Rochford?” Katherine said tentatively. “I’m Lady Katherine, Lady Dorchester’s daughter. She sent me to give her personal condolences for this loss. The news has impacted her greatly.”
Opening his eyes, the man passed a hand across his chin before he waved a hand toward the settee to his left. He didn’t even speak. Shoulders hunched inward, Pru scurried like a mouse and laid the posy of flowers on the table next to him, beside a tumbler with a sheen of amber liquid on the bottom.
Tentatively, Katherine perched on the edge of the settee, not too close. She breathed through her mouth, determined to make this quick. Pru settled next to her.
“My stepmother was devastated to hear of Lady Rochford, especially considering...” Katherine politely refrained from mentioning Lady Rochford’s pregnancy outright.
He scraped his hands over his face, his hairy knuckles for a moment obscuring his eyes and muffling his voice. “Fate robbed me of two beloved members of my family in one fell blow. Oh, Celia. How am I to survive without her?”
Gently, Katherine asked, “Do you know why she was up on the balcony?”
“I haven’t the foggiest notion.” Emotion clung to his voice, tears he refused to shed. Wearily, he added, “She told me she had to visit the withdrawing room a moment. Perhaps the morning sickness—she got it in the evenings—sent her out of doors for a bit of fresh air. But why the balcony? Why not the garden? I guess she wanted the privacy.” His voice caught, and his hands trembled, then he sobered for a moment. “Do you know they won’t even give me her things. Said I had to wait. How cruel.”
So the police had spoken to Lord Rochford. Apparently they hadn’t let on that they suspected her death might not be an accident. But they also had not returned her belongings, so that must mean they were still investigating.
Despite the stench of brandy drifting from him, Katherine’s heart clenched. It did appear as if he’d loved his wife dearly.
“Would anyone have accompanied her? Her maid or a footman, perhaps?”
Or her driver?
Katherine didn’t want to paint Lady Rochford in an adulterous light. Besides, they didn’t yet know that she had been unfaithful. Or that it was with the driver. Perhaps his presence in the house was entirely unrelated.
“I don’t know. She would have had to send for her maid, but I don’t know if she would have. Celia was so independent, she insisted she didn’t need help with simple tasks. Most days she fashioned her own hair if she didn’t plan to leave the house.”
So her maid wouldn’t have followed her around with a bourdaloue, a small ceramic cup for her to relieve herself into. But that still didn’t explain why the driver, Rayner, had been found in the house.
Lord Rochford looked on the precipice of falling apart, and Katherine couldn’t ask any more questions without raising suspicion. Taking pity on him, Katherine said, “Forgive me for bringing up such horrible memories. My deepest condolences to you, sincerely. I’ll show myself out.”
He made no move to stop her from leaving, so she stood. Pru gave her a sharp glance but followed without a word. They traversed the empty corridor in silence. Only once they’d exited into the bitter cold did Pru hiss a protest. “You didn’t ask him whether or not he knew of anyone who might wish her harm.”
“The family doesn’t know that anyone considers this to be a murder. From what Lord Rochford said, the police have kept Celia’s things, but he didn’t mention that they’d told him foul play was suspected. We must tread carefully to ensure that it remains that way. We don’t want rumors of murder to get out. Let the killer think they got away with it, and they may make a mistake. Besides, the servant who answered the door was rather helpful.”
“She appeared to hate Lady Rochford, if you ask me.”
“Yes. The first such person we’ve come across. She seemed afraid that Lord Rochford’s daughter would be robbed of her inheritance if Lady Rochford carried the baby to term.”
“Lord Rochford’s daughter won’t get a penny of it, anyway,” Pru countered. “I have no doubt that Lord Rochford has a cousin somewhere waiting for him to cock up his toes so he can inherit. I had no notion that he had a daughter, which means he hasn’t gotten the crown’s permission to bequeath his estates to his daughter when he passes by special remainder. If there’s no heir, the crown will seize everything.”
It was a sorry truth. Katherine frowned as they continued walking toward the livery. She held her hands over her ears to warm them. “You seem well versed in inheritance law.”
“My father is dead,” Pru pointed out. “I’m his only child. I know precisely the plight Mrs. Dillinger will face when her father perishes.”
Katherine paused in mid-step. “Did the crown seize your family’s holdings?”
“They would have if Papa had been the earl. He has an older brother. My uncle dictates our allowance now. Papa never touched Mama’s dowry, so she’ll bequeath it to me upon marriage.”
“That’s unnecessary. I’m certain Lord Annandale has more than enough money.”
Pru nodded. “Undoubtedly, but he might not have looked twice at a woman who had nothing. Besides, Mama says it’s good for me to have some money of my own, in case the worst should happen.”
For all that she drove her daughter mad with the way she insisted on controlling the wedding, clearly Mrs. Burwick loved her daughter. She wanted what was best. Even if she mistakenly thought that to be atrocious buttons on her wedding gown.
Katherine touched Pru’s arm. “You and Lord Annandale will have a long, happy life together. I’m certain of it.”
Pru smiled weakly. “I’ll have to remember to stay away from balconies, then, won’t I?”
They continued walking. Pru wrapped her arms around herself and glanced back at the house. “What now? I truly expected the murderer to be Lord Rochford, but he seemed so distraught.”
Katherine pointed to the livery. “Now we interview the Rochford driver, Rayner.”
They reached the livery shortly, and none too soon. Despite the hands clapped over her ears, her skin burned from cold. The braziers in the stables provided some measure of warmth to chase away the icy temperature.
The moment he spotted her, the Dorchester driver jumped up from where he was playing cards with two other men, one of them presumably Rayner. “Forgive me! I thought someone would ring for me to ready the horses.”
Katherine waved her hand. “Don’t worry yourself. I wanted to visit the livery so I might see the Rochford carriage. I spotted it the other night at Lady Dalhousie’s house. Who is the driver?”
A handsome man with a slightly crooked nose stepped up and bowed. “That would be me, my lady. How may I serve you?”
Katherine drew herself up. “I’d like to see the carriage, please. I’m looking into purchasing one of my own, and I couldn’t help but admire the shape.” Though a convenient excuse, it also had a ring of truth. Once Katherine had her own townhouse, she would need her own carriage.
The driver, Rayner, led her and Pru down the line of stalls toward the conveyances parked in the rear of the building. Although Katherine’s driver levied a suspicious glare at Rayner as they departed, he didn’t follow. They had some modicum of privacy for Katherine to ask her questions.
As they reached the carriage in question, a tall coach with wheels that reached just below her shoulder, Katherine pretended to admire the fancy vehicle. Although she would need a carriage, she cared more for the functionality than aesthetic appeal.
Rayner ran his hand along the side of the conveyance slowly. “I’m sure this will meet with your delicate feminine sensibilities.”
Pru balled her fists. She looked as though she wanted to strike all notions of feminine sensibilities out of Rayner’s head. Katherine couldn’t much blame her, but they needed information, not violence. She stepped between her friend and the driver.
“It was much to Lady Rochford’s taste, was it?”
“It was indeed. Closed from prying eyes, doesn’t jostle the passenger unduly… unless you crave that sort of thing.”
Was he leering at her? Katherine gritted her teeth, resolving not to strike the man herself. Certainly he couldn’t entertain the notion that she’d made up this excuse to be alone with him! Well, she had, but certainly not for a salacious visit.
Now Katherine understood precisely why the maids in the Dalhousie house feared to be alone with him. He was a predator, and it seemed one that overstepped his bounds. But she needed information, which meant that however dearly she wanted to put him in his place, she must refrain.
She feigned innocence at his intentions. “Such a terrible thing happened to Lady Rochford the other night. Were you nearby when it happened?”
“Nearby?” He stiffened. His demeanor changed in an instant from flirtatious and accommodating to closed off. That, if nothing else, told Katherine that he was keeping a secret he didn’t want to tell. “I was with the carriage, as was my place.”
“But surely you might have been able to see the garden?”
“No.” His voice was hard. “All the carriages were lined along the front drive, to keep as many as possible from blocking traffic on the road. I learned of the tragedy only when a footman was dispatched to call me forth.”
“Is that so?” Pru asked from over Katherine’s shoulder. “Why, then, did I hear word that you were inside the house, trying to seduce one of the maids?”
Rayner crossed his arms. The hardness in his eyes mirrored his posture. “You must have been mistaken. I wouldn’t shirk my duty.”
To keep them from coming to blows—or worse—Katherine linked her arm through her friend’s and led her away. She ended with a sharp but polite, “Thank you for showing us the carriage. We must be off.”
“But—”
Pru didn’t know when to end an interrogation.
Leaning closer, Katherine lowered her voice to a hiss. “Let it be. You’ll draw suspicion.”
Her friend pulled a face. “We shouldn’t have to deal with this nonsense of having to hide the investigation in the first place.”
“In an ideal world, we wouldn’t. But at the moment, our only advantage is that the murderer thinks himself safe because the death is thought to be an accident. Let’s not reveal our cards before we’re ready.”
Pru’s mouth puckered, but she said nothing more as they approached their driver, who was busy readying the horses for their drive home. Once he and another hostler fetched the pair to the carriage, Pru leaned forward and said, “Do you think the driver might have killed Lady Rochford? We have witnesses placing him in the house. Now I’m not sure who I suspect more, the driver or the husband.”
“Rayner is clearly hiding something.” With a smile, she reassured her friend, “Never you fear. Whatever it is, we will discover his secret. In the meantime, there is one other person that might have information we can use. Lord Rochford’s daughter.”