part0028

Evie gave her a distracted nod. They’d arrived in time for a late afternoon tea but Evie had been too tired to join in so she’d retired to her room for a rest. If Tom had heard any worthwhile news, he had clearly chosen to wait until Evie went down to tell her.

“Did you enjoy your day out, milady?”

Evie nodded. “Yes, but it wore me out.” Straightening, Evie asked, “Is Lady Hammond’s maid any better at conversing with the other staff members these days. I know you’ve said she tends to keep to herself, but I wonder if you’ve worked your charm on her.”

“I’ve tried but Miss Shard is even quieter than usual.”

“Do you think you might try again? I get the feeling Lady Hammond’s marriage is facing difficult times. If that’s the case, I’d like to tread with care.” Or rather, she’d like to have solid confirmation. An affair did not necessarily signal the end of a marriage.

“More marital problems… There must be some sort of epidemic going around,” Caro murmured.

“Yes, milady. I shouldn’t have any trouble finding Miss Shard.”

“Oh, you sound sure.”

Caro nodded. “She has spent the afternoon in the kitchen doing some mending. Soon after arriving from the station, Lady Hammond dismissed Miss Shard and took to her bed complaining of a headache.”

“Oh, I hope Lady Penelope feels well enough to join us.”

“I’m not sure she will. Her headache appears to be quite severe.”

Evie stared at her reflection. Had Penelope discovered something upsetting during her visit to London? Perhaps she had only suspected her husband had been having an affair and she finally had confirmation of it.

What if Alexander Fleshling had put her onto her husband’s affair? More and more, Evie suspected the telegram had been from him. For all she knew, Penelope might have made her way to the Criterion and seen her husband with the Duchess with her own eyes. But why would Alexander Fleshling involve her?

“Is something wrong, milady?”

“Why do you ask?”

Caro signaled to the wedge between Evie’s eyebrows and, smiling, she said, “If the wind changes, you will remain like that forever.”

“I wonder… Could you go and see how Lady Hammond is faring? You can say I’m concerned about her. And, while you’re at it, could you look around her room for a piece of paper? Well, not exactly a piece paper. A telegram, to be exact.”

Moments later, Evie strode down the stairs. Half way down, she stopped and, looking up, she wondered if perhaps she should look in on Penelope.

It couldn’t be easy on her.

Penelope’s behavior had always been beyond reproach. She would, no doubt, see her husband’s affair as reflecting badly on her. It wouldn’t hurt to offer assurances…

Then again, she might not welcome the intrusion. Poor woman, Evie thought and thanked her lucky stars she had found a decent man who’d only had eyes for her.

Thinking Penelope would most likely prefer to be left alone, Evie strode down to the drawing room. After exchanging a few pleasantries with the other guests, she went to sit next to Bicky.

“Was your trip fruitful?” he asked. “Tom mentioned you’d gone to London.”

She glanced over at Tom but he was deep in conversation with Mark Harper, Viscount Maison and Lady Gloriana.

“Did Tom say anything else?” Evie asked.

“No, he left that up to you, which I found rather enigmatic. Then I realized the subject needed to be tackled by you because it required some delicacy. I hope I’m wrong.”

Evie took a deep swallow. “W-we followed a hunch and went to the Criterion.” She held his gaze for a moment as she tried to gather her courage. “I’m so sorry, Bicky.”

His smile faltered. “You saw Clara.”

“Yes.” She placed her hand on his.

He nodded. “I take it she wasn’t alone.”

Evie gave a slow shake of her head. “Has she spoken to you about…”

“Divorce?” Bicky laughed. “It’s been her favorite topic of conversation for over a year now.”

Lowering her voice, she asked, “Is it worth holding on?” Her gaze dropped to his arm.

“You think she had something to do with this.”

Evie couldn’t help but admire the calm resignation in his voice. “I suspect she might be in collusion with…” She drew in a breath and wi shed she’d rehearsed what she had to say to him. “We saw her with Hammond.” Lord Hammond, Viscount Hammond, heir to the Earl of Remington. How could he do this to Penelope? The scandal would follow him until the end of days.

To her surprise, Bicky didn’t bat an eyelash.

“Did you know?” she asked.

“She made a point of telling me.” He stole a furtive glance across the room. “Penelope is in denial. I’ve tried to speak to her about it but she won’t hear a bad word said against her husband.”

Evie supposed Penelope had far too much to lose. “Frankly, I’m surprised. You know what she’s like when things don’t go her way. I would have expected her to make a fuss.”

“As strange as it might sound, I’m sorry for Hammond,” Bicky said. “I’m afraid Clara has sunk her claws into him only because she needs someone to help her drive the message home. Of course, she couldn’t carry on with anyone lower than a soon to be Earl.”

“Doesn’t she realize what it will cost her?”

“Not her fortune,” Bicky said. “The dowry is all tied up but her uncle died without issue and left her everything. That’s when she made up her mind to ask for a divorce.”

“It must be a veritable fortune for her to walk away from all this,” Evie remarked.

“It is. Back in the 1850s, her uncle took his Grand Tour money and set himself up as a pastoralist in Australia. He thought he’d make his fortune in sheep. Would you believe it? He struck gold right on his property.”

“I’m guessing he found more than a few nuggets.”

Bicky snorted. “I’ve tried to put it into perspective. He did very well indeed with one of the biggest gold finds in the area. In fact, everyone seems to have done well out of the venture. Did you know, the gold exported to Britain from Australia in the 1850s paid all her foreign debts?”

“Golly!” Regardless, Evie couldn’t quite understand how Clara would face the consequences of a divorce. Especially within their circle, Evie thought. Everyone had moved with the times, facing a great many changes which appeared to crop up at a rate of knots, but most people still disapproved.

“Drink?” Bicky offered as he accepted a glass from Larkin.

“No, thank you. I should keep a clear head.” She waited for Larkin to move away before saying, “I’ve been wondering if Clara would try something…”

Bicky laughed. “You mean, try to kill me?”

“Well, yes. But now I’m not so sure. Until now, I thought she only had her social standing to worry about losing, but now you say there’s a vast fortune involved. She wouldn’t want to risk losing that.”

“I suppose money does corrupt.” He raised his glass and gestured toward Tom. “It doesn’t seem to have affected Tom Winchester.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, he’s gone from nothing to everything and yet it didn’t stop him from volunteering in the war.”

It hadn’t stopped Bicky either. “Yes, I suppose he doesn’t mind getting his hands dirty.” Evie glanced at Tom and silently congratulated him on a job well done. He certainly had done well, selling everyone a credible story about himself.

“Bicky, as a friend, I feel I should urge you to consider walking away. Let her go. She can’t be worth the trouble.”

Bicky looked over her shoulder and said, “I believe your maid is trying to attract your attention.”

Turning, Evie saw Caro peering at her from the doorway. “Excuse me, please.” She rushed toward her. “Did you find something?”

“Yes, milady. Miss Shard was busy in the kitchen mending. She looked quite upset but she wouldn’t tell me why. Anyhow, I took the opportunity to go into Lady Penelope’s bedchamber. I died a thousand deaths when I saw her lying on the bed, but when she didn’t stir, I took a chance to look around.” She dug inside her pocket and produced a piece of paper. “ I found this on her dresser.”

“Thank you, Caro. You’re a treasure.” Taking the note, Evie returned to sit beside Bicky and read the telegram. “Noon. Today. Glad you changed your mind.” Evie looked up. “It’s not signed.”

“A message from your secret admirer?” Bicky asked.

Evie explained her suspicions about the telegram Penelope had received earlier and how she and Tom had seen Penelope being dropped off at the train station and had then followed the motor car to Knightsbridge. She watched for Bicky’s response. When he stopped blinking, she knew he’d made a connection of sorts.

Evie took a deep swallow and wished she didn’t have to be the bearer of such ill tidings. “Alexander Fleshling’s chauffeur drove Penelope to the train station. She’d been to see Alexander,” Evie said.

“Funny, she never mentioned anything, but then… why would she?”

“Oh? When did you see Penelope?”

“She came down earlier on. I was in here waiting for everyone to come in.” He looked across at the piano. “I’d been playing a tune. Larkin had just set a cup of coffee down and… Oh, I forgot to drink it. Anyhow, she talked about her dressmaker and what a disappointment she’d been. A moment later, she excused herself and said she needed to take a po wder for her headache. I hope she’s all right. She must be in a bad way. I couldn’t help feeling she looked a little lost and confused.”

“My maid just went up and she said Penelope is sleeping.” Evie folded the piece of paper and lifted her eyes. “Bicky. When was the last time you saw Alexander?”

Bicky took a sip of his drink. “Let me think. He came for Christmas and before that, he came over for the grouse season. Said he needed to get in more practice, just in case.” Bicky laughed. “He’s always joking about that because we’re the same age and… Well, what are the chances I’ll go before he does.”

“So, he’s not likely to inherit. Is that what he thinks?”

Bicky finished his drink. “I’ve been trying to encourage him to settle down and produce an heir. As it is, I doubt I will. Certainly not under my current circumstances.”

“And how does he feel about that?”

Bicky pressed his glass to his lips and took a quick drink. “Are you suggesting he might be somehow involved in some sordid plan to get rid of me?”

“If I say yes, I’m afraid I would then struggle to explain why someone took a shot at me.”

Bicky gestured to Larkin who promptly produced a refill. Surging to his feet, he steadied himself and then strode over to the window.

Glancing at her, he gave her a brisk smile. “My apologies. The thought of Alexander being in any way involved in something as macabre as… No, I can’t even bring myself to say it.”

“What would happen if you granted Clara her divorce?” Evie asked.

“You know it is my duty to marry again.”

They stared at each other, neither one speaking or even blinking, but both clearly doing a great deal of thinking.

If Bicky fathered an heir, Alexander Fleshling would be out of the running. Surely, he must have known all along that would happen. For as long as Bicky lived, Alexander could only be a placeholder. His position would always be tenuous as Bicky was bound to father an heir…

Evie wondered about his financial situation. He had to be doing well enough to be able to afford a house in Knightsbridge. Nevertheless, she asked, “What does he do?”

“He’s in banking. Does quite well for himself.”

Yes, but for some people doing well didn’t seem to be enough. For others, having all the money in the world wouldn’t be enough…

His wife wanted a divorce. His current heir… no doubt, wanted to secure his position. The only person standing in the way of it all se emed to be reluctant to face reality.

“Bicky, when did Clara leave for London?”

Evie struggled to picture spending an entire week trying on clothes. Then, another thought struck. She’d sent Bicky a message just over a week ago. “Out of curiosity, did you happen to keep my letter saying I would be attending your house party?”

“Of course, I keep everything. I mean…” He cast his eye around the room. “Everyone in my family keeps everything. I can tell you what my great grandfather ate for lunch all those years ago.”

Evie nibbled the edge of her lip. Finally, she said, “All along, I’ve been saying you were the only one who knew of my arrival.”

“Do you think Clara read the letter?”

His face paled. He managed to whisper, “She might have…” Raking his fingers through his hair, he swung away.

Evie wondered if they were entertaining the same thoughts. Clara might have organized someone to take a shot at Bicky. Years’ worth of resentment might have made Evie a target too. Or, as she’d thought earlier, a convenient ruse. A smokescreen to divert everyone’s attention away from the real target.

Bicky looked up at the ceiling. “I suppose with me out of the way, she would have gained her freedom without the inconvenience of a scandalous divorce.”

“What will you do?” Evie asked.

“If I confront her, she’ll only deny it. We have no proof of wrongdoing.”

He would need proof of his wife’s plot. If Clara had hired someone, there might be a money trail.

And then… there was Alexander.

He might be behind all this. It would just be a matter of discovering what role he’d played.

Larkin cleared his throat and approached Tom. “Mr. Winchester. There is a telephone call for you.”

Evie watched him leave. She wished she’d thought of including him in the conversation. Now, she would have to remember everything she’d discussed with Bicky.

When Tom returned, he looked straight at Evie, his expression serious enough for Evie to wonder if she’d have to offer an apology for something she wasn’t even aware she’d said or done.

Tom hadn’t even reached her when Larkin cleared his throat again and announced, “Her Grace, The Dowager Duchess of Heatherington.”

The Dowager stopped at the threshold. Looking around the drawing room, she smiled and nodded and then she met Charlotte’s gaze. “Ah, there you are, Lady Charlotte. ”

Tom sidled up to Evie. “Should we lineup and wait our turn? She appears to be on the warpath.”

Evie forced herself to chuckle, all the while thinking about poor Bicky. “You can consider yourself safe if she smiled at you. Although, her smile can be deceiving.”

The Duchess strode up to Charlotte and said, “I have a few choice words to impart to you, my dear.”

Charlotte must have been caught unawares because she actually brightened. “Oh, do tell.”

“Word about your insinuations and accusations disrupted my afternoon tea. I am told you hold me entirely responsible for my son’s close encounter with death because, in your opinion, I have finally cracked it.” The Dowager’s voice hitched. “Yes, indeed. Cracked it.”

Evie glanced at the footmen standing at attention. They had been the only ones to hear Charlotte. Had they taken the news down to the kitchen?

Tom cupped Evie’s elbow and guided her to the window. Lowering his voice, he said, “I received a phone call from the Sergeant. He wishes us to call in at the police station tomorrow morning.”