After lunch, it was off to call on Lady Freemantle. Once again, Franny thought about the bicycle, but this was another occasion not to look unusual, and anyway, the Freemantle townhouse was close enough to Miss Plimsoll’s to walk.
She had never met Lady Freemantle, but that didn’t matter. Ladies in society could call on each other with even the most tenuous connections. And as the daughter of the previous Marquess of Seaforth and sister of the current one, she’d be admitted anywhere.
Unless, she thought ruefully, her suffragist connections had preceded her.
Nevertheless, she was promptly admitted to the Freemantle house, and it was clear from the moment she stepped over the threshold that Lord Freemantle had done well for himself indeed. Frances had been in enough fine homes to recognize good furnishings when she saw them, but here everything was new. In homes where family fortunes went back generations, you saw old portraits on the walls and other faded mementoes from great-grandparents. Any items that Sarah Torrence, now Lady Freemantle, had brought to her marriage home were perhaps confined to her boudoir and not in evidence in the perfectly quiet entranceway.
The butler led Frances to the drawing room, where Lady Freemantle was seated with a look of curiosity on her face. Frances compared her to the portrait of her older sister, Louisa. Even accounting for the many years that had passed, she doubted Sarah had ever been as beautiful as her sister. But she was a handsome woman with a welcoming smile, and Frances saw friendliness in her eyes. No, more than that—some merriment.
“Lady Frances—how kind of you to call. Do have some tea.” A maid expertly served the tea and silently departed as Frances sat. “Your brother is the Marquess of Seaforth, isn’t he? The name is familiar. I believe our fathers served together in the Foreign Office.”
“Yes, and I was pleased to meet your mother at a recent dinner at Lord and Lady Moore’s. I do try to keep up with the family’s old friends, and so I thought I’d call on you to reacquaint our families.” She’d have to go slowly and draw upon the diplomatic skills the Seaforths were known for.
Despite that plausible introduction, Lady Freemantle frowned. “Fair enough, Lady Frances, but I confess to being disappointed. I was so hoping you were coming here to recruit me for your suffrage club.”
So her reputation had preceded her. Frances looked at her closely. Yes, there was merriment in those eyes, and then she laughed, and Frances laughed with her.
“You’d be more than welcome, Lady Freemantle. You and your mother can share a hansom cab to the meeting.”
Lady Freemantle laughed again. “I don’t know what my husband would say,” she said, but her tone indicated she didn’t much care, and Frances wondered again if Louisa had been the only rebel in the family.
“I do confess to wanting to meet you for friendship’s sake, but seriously, do think on our club. For now, I just wanted to tell you how much I enjoyed meeting your mother. So lively and intelligent. She must’ve been a great asset to your father’s career as a diplomat.”
Lady Freemantle was pleased at the compliment. She responded with a couple of anecdotes, and Frances matched her with stories of her own while planning to lead the discussion to the theatre.
“Although I see the advantages living abroad, I think I would miss much about London, especially the plays.”
“I agree entirely,” said Lady Freemantle. “I am fortunate in that my husband likes the theatre as well, and we go often—and to the opera as well. We used to make family parties, when my boys were younger. They’re grown now, one an officer in the Royal Engineers and the other still at Oxford.”
“You must be very proud of them. And it is so pleasant when a wholesome interest like theatre can unite a whole family.” Then she spoke the next sentence very clearly, watching Lady Freemantle closely. “How fortunate, then, that your husband has seen fit to purchase the Emerald Theatre and its resident company, the Green Players. I assume that ensures you always get the best seats.”
That got a reaction out of Lady Freemantle. The amused look disappeared, and Frances felt herself appraised, as if Lady Freemantle was seeing her for the first time.
“Yes,” she finally said, a little tonelessly, “that’s certainly an advantage.”
Frances knew it was time to leave. A call on a woman she barely knew shouldn’t last any longer than this, and she had done what she had come to do—let her know that the secret was out. She would tell her husband, and Frances hoped she would hear from him soon.
A maid came in to see if they needed more tea.
“Is his lordship in?” Lady Freemantle inquired.
“Yes, my lady, just a few minutes ago. He is in his study.”
“Tell him to please join us here.”
“Yes, my lady.”
The maid left, and Lady Freemantle turned back to Frances. “My husband often comes back at this hour but finishes work in his study. I think you would like to meet him.” And she smiled again, briefly, before both women lapsed into silence. This was going to be interesting, thought Frances. But no one said the life of a consulting detective was always easy.
Lord Freemantle entered the room. He was a striking figure, tall and lean, with a sharp-featured face and shrewd eyes that Frances thought would not be out of place on a police detective. He was about a decade older than his wife, Frances judged, an age difference exaggerated by a beautifully tailored but old-fashioned suit.
“Dear, this is Lady Frances Ffolkes. Her late father, the Marquess of Seaforth, worked in the Foreign Office with my father. Lady Frances was at a dinner with my mother and thought she’d call on us.”
“A pleasure to meet you, Lady Frances. I have never met your brother, but he enjoys the same fine reputation that your late father did.” His manners were impeccable, but Frances saw he was unclear about why his routine was interrupted to meet her.
“We were discussing the theatre,” said Lady Freemantle. “Lady Frances likes the theatre very much. And she just remarked how wonderful it is that we can get the best seats because you purchased the Emerald Theatre.”
Lord Freemantle’s eyes got bigger, and he looked at Frances, but she looked right back at him. He didn’t say anything but sat next to his wife, poured a cup of tea, and took a sip.
“May I ask how you heard about the purchase of the Emerald Theatre?” he asked. “It was kept deliberately quiet.” His wife looked on curiously, wanting to see Frances’s answer.
“You know, my lord, women are often accused of being gossips, but in my brief foray into financial affairs, I’ve found that City gentlemen are worse gossips than scullery maids.” In the following long moment of silence, Frances helped herself to another cucumber sandwich from the plate.
Lady Freemantle burst out laughing. “Oh, you are so right, Lady Frances. Isn’t she right, dear? Good lord, all the secrets spilled over good claret and roast meats in this house.”
Frances had expected Lord Freemantle to be angry, or at least annoyed, and she was surprised at how coolly he reacted to the surprise. Indeed, he accepted the revelation in good grace, and Frances liked him for that. He gave Frances a small smile.
“I offer you my congratulations then. Yes, your information is correct. I lead the syndicate that now owns the Emerald Theatre and its resident company. I am being honest with you. Will you return the favor and tell me why this information is important to you?”
A fair question. “I have become friendly with your mother-in-law, Lady Torrence. She told me she was looking for clues to her older daughter’s disappearance but that she was shut out after you purchased it. I confess that I’m astounded you would spend thousands of pounds just to prevent her from what would likely be a wild goose chase.”
Lady Freemantle chuckled. “My wonderful mother. I told you, dear, that if we cut off that avenue, she’d find another one, and now she’s set suffrage leader Lady Frances onto us.”
“So it seems,” said his lordship dryly. “Yes, your conclusions are right, Lady Frances. Although stopping my mother-in-law was a goal in fact, it also makes sense as an investment. As you can see, we’re improving the theatre and moving into motion pictures.”
“My maid will be so glad to hear that. She absolutely adores motion pictures. But why did you want to stop her so badly?”
Lord Freemantle looked at his wife. She shrugged. “You might as well,” she said. “I daresay she’s heard worse, and I’m sure she’ll be discreet. Lady Frances, I don’t see anything gained by telling my mother we thwarted her. It would just start a family argument. In exchange for your agreement not to tell her, we’ll tell you why.”
Frances nodded, and Lady Freemantle turned to her husband. He sighed. “If I really thought there was a chance of finding Louisa, I wouldn’t have stopped her.” He looked at his wife. “Unfortunately, I can’t imagine that she’s still alive. I’m sure she would’ve revealed herself again at some point. And not everything in the past needs to be dragged up. All I can say, Lady Frances, is that Sir Arnold Torrence was a man of sterling reputation in his public life and was devoted to his duty, but there were aspects of his private life that don’t bear close scrutiny.” He looked very reluctant to admit it. Frances glanced at Lady Freemantle, and she was nodding sadly, agreeing with the analysis of her father.
“Can you give me more detail? Again, I will be discreet. I’m merely assisting Lady Torrence in finding out what happened to Louisa.”
But Lord Freemantle shook his head. “I don’t want to say more. It has no bearing on Louisa’s disappearance and can only besmirch a dead man and embarrass his family. And I can also tell you that I personally looked through the old records, and there’s nothing there that could help you. They were as careless and incomplete as you might expect from actors. As long as you avoid embarrassing the family, I wish you success in your task. My only concern is getting Lady Torrence’s hopes up.”
Before Frances could respond, Lady Freemantle jumped in. “I think, dear husband, that my mother is stronger and more clear-eyed on this than you give her credit for. If she wants to make a final search for Louisa, that’s her decision.” There was a hint of steel there, and his lordship smiled and nodded to his wife.
“Of course. I stand corrected. Lady Frances, again, best of luck. I share my wife’s view that it’s Lady Torrence’s right to look for Louisa. And finding her would be wonderful. I am not optimistic you will find out anything after all these years, but”—he gave a wry smile—“as you have my wife’s and mother-in-law’s blessing, you have mine too.”
After a few more pleasantries, Frances excused herself, and Lord Freemantle said, “I will show you out, Lady Frances.” It was an unnecessary courtesy at a house that had plenty of servants, and Frances suspected it was an excuse for Lord Freemantle to have a quick private word with her. She was proved right at the front door.
“Lady Frances, I meant what I said about wishing you success. My wife deeply misses her sister. I know the Seaforths are a great family and an old one, long involved in diplomacy, so I hope I can trust you to be discreet about anything you find to my father-in-law’s discredit.”
His tone and look were pleading, not threatening. Frances knew he had the family name and business interests to protect.
“My only interest is Louisa Torrence, I assure you.” He seemed relieved at that. As Frances left, though, she wondered, just what had Sir Arnold Torrence done?