The Gentleman Who Loved Me (Heart of Enquiry Book 6)(70)
“How lovely that you’ve found a champion.” Emma beamed. “Speaking of which—what can we do to help, Ambrose?”
Going to the hearth, Papa faced them all, his eyes somber. “Thanks to Polly and Revelstoke’s friends, the mudlarks, we’ve had several sightings of a man who could be the shooter within St. Giles. He’s evaded capture thus far, but we’ll have him soon.” Papa’s jaw tightened. “Which is a good thing because we’ve made little progress with Alastair James and Peter Theale.”
“They’ve denied involvement?” Em inquired.
“Vehemently. James was blasé about it, but his sort appears blasé about everything. Even last year, when he nearly killed a man in a drunken duel—a little known fact that Lugo dug up. So we now know James has a history of committing violence.” Papa’s fingers drummed on the mantel. “Theale, on the other hand, was all nerves. His hands were shaking like he’d been struck by palsy.”
“Do you think this Theale fellow is the guilty one?” Harry said.
“I don’t know that he’d have the nerve to hire a cutthroat,” Papa said, “but he, of all the suspects, is the one who stands to gain the most. And not just in terms of money. I delved further into the financial information Corbett provided. It appears that Theale recently received a large loan from Mr. Albert Brace, a tea merchant.”
“Tea merchants have joined the usury business now?” Harry’s brows rose.
“It’s not money that Brace is after but the social connection,” Papa replied. “He has a daughter who he’s apparently been trying to marry off for years. Her main attraction, according to sources, is her dowry. Apparently, Theale has been dragging his heels for months, and Brace’s loan is part of ongoing negotiations.”
“So we have one man with a history of violence and another desperate enough for money to consider an unwanted match,” Emma mused. “What do we know about the female suspects?”
Mama spoke up. “On that subject, I’ve made a few inquiries of my own. According to the drawing room talk, Antonia James’ husband has recently lost a fortune to bad investments, and they are in dire financial straits. Lady Charlotte Daltry, the dowager countess, has a modest stipend exceeded, at times, by her expenses. Her wards, Sybil and Eloisa Fossey, are both penniless. Thus, for any of the four, two thousand pounds per annum might be sufficient incentive for murder.”
Em hopped to her feet. “Since female suspects are my specialty, I’ll go interview them straightaway.”
“It is past calling hours, pet.” His Grace’s large hand circled his wife’s slender wrist. “Send a note requesting a visit tomorrow. And frame it as your desire to meet Rosie’s new family rather than your desire to hunt down a murderer.”
“I suppose you’ve got a point.” Em plopped back onto the cushions. “Tomorrow, then.”
“I’ll come,” Thea said.
“Me, too,” Vi and Polly chimed in.
“I’d like to meet with the ladies as well,” Rosie said quickly.
Not only did she want to aid in the capture of the villain, she needed to start her campaign for social acceptance. She needed to get into the good graces of Mrs. James and the dowager—assuming they weren’t the ones who wanted her dead, of course.
“Rosie should stay at home where it’s safe,” Papa said, frowning.
“Actually, I think having Rosie there would be useful.” Em tapped her chin. “We’ll be able to monitor the suspects for any tell-tale signs of guilt in her presence. And safety won’t be a problem—Strathaven will accompany us.”
“As will I.” The words boomed through the room: they’d been uttered simultaneously by the other husbands.
“Excellent. It’s decided then.” A smile of satisfaction tucked into Em’s cheeks. “With all of us working together, we’ll capture the villain in no time.”
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Taking the arm he offered, Primrose alighted gracefully from the carriage.
“We’re at your club?” Her veil didn’t dampen the excitement in her voice. “Is this my surprise?”
Andrew hid a smile. “If I told you, it wouldn’t be a surprise, would it?”
Steering her past his guards, he led her through his private entrance at the back of the club. She’d pestered him about her surprise the entirety of the ride over. When that hadn’t worked, she’d playfully attempted to seduce it out of him. She’d peppered his face with kisses, her bottom wriggling enticingly in his lap—and she’d done this knowing that a coterie of his men had been right outside, riding along for protection.
Something had definitely changed in her since their lovemaking last night, he mused. Perhaps that mirror had helped her to see how beautiful and sensual she was, peeling away another layer of her inhibitions. He couldn’t wait to see what else lay beneath. His little minx was taking to sexual exploration like a duck to water, and anticipation simmered in him as he thought of the games ahead.
“I need to fetch something from my office, and then we’ll be off,” he told her.
“Off to where?” she said immediately.
“That’s for me to know, you impatient wench.”