CHAPTER TEN

Several hours in my studio did much to soothe my tattered nerves worn raw by the events of the last sixteen hours. The familiar roughness of the charcoal in my hand as I sketched the outline of a new portrait comforted me. Its musk of earth and ashes permeated the air, clearing away the lingering memory of blood and death. I lost myself in the sweep of lines, forgetting place and time.

That is, until Mr. Gage’s summons recalled me to it. I sighed at the sight of his message delivered by one of the maids, suddenly reluctant to return to the uncertainty of the investigation. It was easier, safer, to remain immersed in my art. But I had promised Alana I would find answers, and as I returned to reality, my own natural curiosity reasserted itself.

So I consumed several cold bites of the soup of summer squash, which the servants had brought me for luncheon probably hours before, and set out to find Mr. Gage.

I found him pacing before the fireplace in the sunny family parlor where we had interviewed Lady Lydia and Mr. Tuthill. His hands were clasped behind his back and his head bowed as if deep in thought. I hesitated to make myself known, taking a moment to observe his unguarded expression and the deep lines of frustration crisscrossing his brow. He seemed in that moment like a caged animal circling his enclosure.

He glanced up as he pivoted and, upon catching sight of me, wiped his face clear of all emotion. “Ah! There you are,” he declared, moving toward me. He did not sound irritated, but impatient. He was not pleased to have been kept waiting. “Where did you disappear to?”

I was tempted to point out that he had not divulged the destination of his urgent business, but I suspected he intended to be vague about his plans earlier and would only smile enigmatically and change subjects. Perversely, it made me want to be just as mysterious. “Does it matter?” I challenged. “I’m here now. Are you ready to interview Lady Stratford?”

He smiled as if amused by my display of defiance. “It doesn’t matter. Though why you are so reluctant to admit you were in your art studio baffles me.” He reached out to swipe a finger gently across my cheek, bringing it away smudged with charcoal.

Feeling heat steal into my cheeks, I scowled and wiped my palm across my face to remove any lingering traces of the powder.

“Here, allow me.” He pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and grasped my jaw between his thumb and forefinger.

I jerked back from his touch. “That’s not necessary.” I held my hand out for the square white cloth.

His smile widened, but he relinquished his hold on the handkerchief. I fought a blush as I studied my visage in the mirror hanging on the wall behind the door and carefully removed all traces of my art supplies, including a smudge of yellow paint from the side of my left palm. I wasn’t certain why I felt so embarrassed by my rumpled appearance. It had never much mattered to me before, but I did know that I did not like the cheeky grin stretching across Gage’s face as he stood over my shoulder watching me. I handed the cloth back to him with a curt thank-you, even though I felt more like tossing it in his face. He nodded, folded the square, and tucked it back into his pocket.

“Now,” I pronounced, crossing my arms over my chest. “Lady Stratford?”

He cleared his throat. “Yes. We shall be speaking with her in her chambers.” I followed him toward the door. “I took the liberty of sending her a note requesting an audience.” He chuckled. “The countess is quite a proper bit of muslin. I knew she wouldn’t be able to rudely dismiss such a formal request.”

I frowned in confusion. “Would she have refused to be interviewed?”

“Only as a matter of principle.” His eyes twinkled. “You should know that Lady Stratford does not like me very much.”

“Well then, that’s something we have in common,” I replied tartly.

He did not seem hurt by my comment. “Come now. I know that can’t be true. You like me well enough,” he said with patronizing certainty.

I arched an eyebrow but decided not to contradict the infuriating man. “Is she waiting for us now?”

He smiled knowingly, which almost convinced me that an argument would not be such a waste of time. “Yes. And I’ll be blaming you for making us late.”

“That’s fine. I doubt she cares much for my company, either. This shall make for an interesting conversation,” I remarked dryly. I glanced up at him out of the corner of my eye. “Why are you allowing me to accompany you? I half expected you to visit Lady Stratford by yourself and inform me of it later.”

“Well,” he hedged. “As I said, she is quite staid and proper. I wasn’t certain she would see me alone. I thought the company of a female might help smooth things along.” He cleared his throat as we turned a corner. “By the way, she’s not actually aware that you will be the female accompanying me.”

I turned to look up at him.

“I may have led her to believe your sister would be the one joining us.”

I sighed. It was no wonder Lady Stratford didn’t like the man. I wondered if she would turn us away when she discovered he had duped her by bringing me instead.

“Don’t worry,” he told me confidently. “I have it all figured out.”

I doubted that, but I was willing to play along. The nasty comments Lady Stratford was sure to make about me would not be pleasurable, but I thought I might enjoy watching Gage have the door slammed in his face. When she turned us away, I would send Alana to speak with her, armed with all the questions I had for the countess. In the end, I would find a way to get the information I wanted.

Lady Stratford and her husband had been placed in a suite of rooms near the end of the southeast hall block. As we passed by, I realized that Lady Godwin’s assigned chamber had only been several doors away. I wondered if my sister had placed them in such proximity because she was aware of their friendship, or if it had been merely a happy coincidence.

The Stratfords’ suite was one of the best and largest in the castle. Each room was decorated in sumptuous shades of chocolate and pale sky blue, with gold and buttercup yellow. Most of the furniture was heavily ornamented in a rococo style, although Alana had softened the heavy gilding by simplifying the cloth and wall patterns to solids and wide, uncomplicated prints. The his and hers bedchambers were connected by two dressing rooms and a comfortable parlor.

It was at the door of this parlor that Gage paused and knocked. Lady Stratford’s maid showed us in before disappearing through the dressing room to collect her mistress.

When the countess appeared, it was clear that the maid had already informed her of my presence. Her eyes immediately narrowed on me. The soft gray of her irises had hardened to chips of ice. “Mr. Gage,” she bit out in clipped tones. “If I might have a word with you.”

I stepped away from the grouping of furnishings at the center of the room and moved to stare out a window on the opposite side of the chamber at the garden below. The wind rippled the leaves on the trees just as the chill in Lady Stratford’s voice ruffled my nerves. I hated being confronted with others’ disgust and prejudice over something they knew nothing about. It angered me and made me feel small and helpless. I bit my lip to withhold all the words burning inside of me, as I always did, and strained to hear Gage and Lady Stratford’s conversation.

“What is she doing here?” Lady Stratford hissed.

“Her sister was detained and asked her to accompany me,” Gage replied in conciliatory tones.

“I realize that Lady Cromarty believes her sister innocent as a baby lamb, a testament to her loyalty, I’m sure.” The countess didn’t sound as though she placed much value in familial devotion. “But the fact remains that most of society believes her unnatural. Is she not your prime suspect?”

“Haven’t you ever heard the old adage ‘Keep your friends close, but your enemies closer’?” he whispered.

I tensed, wondering just how much of this conversation was truth and how much fiction. Did Gage view me as the enemy?

It irritated me to live with this doubt, especially in the face of the upheaval already caused by Lady Godwin’s murder. Did I not already have enough to worry about without suspicion and betrayal being thrown into the mix?

I did not hear Lady Stratford’s response, but she must have given her consent, for Gage called me over. He smiled at me as we settled into our seats, but I could not force myself to smile back. Not in the face of his duplicity and Lady Stratford’s naked displeasure.

It was remarkable how much a disagreeable expression could sour beauty. Lady Stratford often reminded me of a china shepherdess, with her pale blonde hair, porcelain skin, and slight figure. She was both the picture of hearty country living and fragile womanhood. But a year younger than my sister, Lady Stratford had caused quite a stir the year of her debut. It was rumored that every eligible nobleman had vied for her hand, from dukes to second sons. The ton had delighted in her marriage to the roguish and elusive Earl of Stratford, happy to see a gentleman who had fought the bonds of matrimony for so many years finally caught in its net. She was certainly a diamond of the first water. However, at that moment, with her lips pursed and her eyes hard, she looked anything but lovely and soft.

“How may I help you?” she finally asked Gage, folding her hands over the lavender skirts of her gown. I had not failed to notice she was also wearing half-mourning colors.

“It has come to my attention that you were a good friend of Lady Godwin,” he began gently. His gaze dipped to take in her dress, letting me know he had not missed the significance of the color, either. “I wondered if you might answer a few questions for me. To aid in my investigation.”

Lady Stratford lowered her eyes for a second. I watched her reaction carefully, perplexed by the nervous fidgeting of her hands. She stilled them when she caught me observing her and turned back to Gage. “I will hear your questions, though I cannot promise I will know the answers,” she replied.

He studied her for a moment and then nodded. “Of course.” He settled deeper into the chocolate and gold bergère chair. “First, I’ve been led to believe that Lord Stratford is currently in India?”

She nodded carefully. “That is correct.”

“Do you know how long ago he left England?”

She tilted her head in thought. “It was just after the first of the year. I remember I was surprised he would undertake such a journey in the midst of winter. So . . . seven, almost eight months ago now, perhaps.”

We were interrupted by the arrival of the tea tray, and Gage shared a glance with me while the maid settled the dishes. If Lord Godwin had departed England almost eight months ago, then Lady Godwin’s baby had most certainly not been her husband’s.

Lady Stratford poured the tea, politely asking how we liked ours prepared. Then she dispensed hers from a separate, smaller pot included with our tea service that I had been puzzling over. “It’s made with red raspberry leaf,” she explained when I caught her eye. “For my health.” Her eyes cast down again and a pale pink blush suffused her complexion.

“Did Lady Godwin consider accompanying her husband to India?” Gage asked, jumping right back into the conversation where we left off.

“No. At least, I don’t believe so. And never did either of them act as if she would. From the very moment Lord Godwin mentioned he would be making such a trip, it was presented as if he would go alone.”

“How long did he plan to be gone?”

She took a dainty sip of her tea. “I can’t say. Though . . .” She tilted her head to the side in a manner I was coming to realize meant she was thinking. “Helena had mentioned something about his returning before summer’s end. But that was months ago. His plans may have changed.”

Gage set his cup aside.

“More tea?” she asked.

“Uh, no, thank you.”

His brow furrowed, and I realized he was trying to formulate his next question delicately. However, Lady Stratford perhaps did not understand this, and chose to view his expression in a more anxious light. She took another hasty sip of tea and began to fiddle with the gem dangling from her necklace. It sparkled a deep red, almost maroon—probably a garnet.

“My lady, do you know of anyone who might have wished Lady Godwin harm?”

Lady Stratford stiffened. “Wish her harm?” she asked vaguely.

“Yes. Someone she competed against or feuded with? Someone who did not like her?” Gage elaborated.

She set her tea on the table in front of her carefully and cleared her throat. “Clearly, neither of you knew Lady Godwin beyond a passing acquaintance. Because if you did, you would realize she was not the easiest person to get along with.” Lady Stratford’s eyes flicked to me. “Particularly for other women.” She licked her lips and sat back, still rolling the jewel between her fingers. “She was vain and calculating and duplicitous, and prone to make cutting remarks.” Her face had hardened in anger as she recited these not-so-positive traits about her companion.

“Pardon me,” I said, speaking up for the first time since we entered the room. “But if Lady Godwin was so difficult, then why were you such close friends?”

Lady Stratford smiled wearily, as if I’d just asked a very naive question. “Because it was easier to be her friend than not. Because she wanted to be close to me.”

I studied her features now that the scowl had faded. “Because you’re beautiful?”

Her smile turned more genuine, though tinged with a somewhat bitter amusement. “Yes. That was part of it.”

From the first, I had seen how someone as concerned with her good looks as Lady Godwin would not want to be outshone by a beauty like Lady Stratford. It was much more pleasant to pretend that you shared the attention and admiration.

“So Lady Godwin had many enemies?” Gage asked.

Lady Stratford nodded hesitantly. “Yes, potentially.”

“Any that you believe might commit murder?”

She pressed her hands together palm to palm and stared down at her lap. “I cannot honestly say,” she replied in a soft voice. She swallowed. “It seems quite impossible that it actually happened. She may not have been well liked, but I never believed she was so hated as to be murdered.” Her arms shook slightly, and I realized she was holding her hands together to try to control her emotions. I wished she would look up so that I might see her eyes.

“I’m sorry. I know this must be difficult,” Gage said softly in sympathy.

She nodded.

“If I may, just a few more questions, and I will trouble you no further.”

She took a deep breath and finally looked up, giving him permission to continue. Her eyes were shiny and rimmed in red from unshed tears.

Gage shifted uncomfortably in his seat. “It is widely known that Lady Godwin has taken lovers, particularly in the months since her husband left the country.”

Lady Stratford did not confirm or deny this.

“Most recently, she has been linked with Mr. Fitzpatrick.” He shifted again, and I wondered, with some amusement, whether he was about to tug on his cravat. “Are you aware of any other men with whom she has . . . carried on liaisons?”

Lady Stratford seemed entertained by his discomfort as well. Her pale pink lips tipped up at the corners. “And what makes you think I would share any such information with you?” She raised her eyebrows in scolding.

“Because I think one of Lady Godwin’s past lovers may have had something to do with her death.”