The Gentleman Who Loved Me (Heart of Enquiry Book 6)(82)

What if Daltry had been murdered?

She recalled that he’d been absent for two hours before coming to her room. What if he’d met with the murderer then and been given the poisoned beverage? When she’d blurted her suspicions, the energy in the room had grown even darker.

“That makes sense,” Andrew had said, his jaw hard. “Whoever murdered Daltry did so expecting to get their hands on his money. When instead Primrose inherited everything, the murderer then tried to eliminate her as well.”

“We’re back to Daltry’s relatives,” Papa had said. “But which one—or ones?”

“Poison, as they say, is a woman’s weapon.” Em grimaced. “I can vouch for that personally.”

Strathaven’s arm circled his wife’s waist. “So we focus on the female suspects?”

Papa shook his head. “We cannot deny that Theale has the most to gain financially. We must continue pursuing all leads. Whoever the villain is, he or she is damned clever. I’ve had the suspects followed on a few occasions, but none of them have done anything of note.”

“He or she is being careful,” Emma mused, “now that they know they’re under suspicion.”

“Shall I make a trip to Gretna?” This had come from McLeod. “Maybe the innkeep or staff saw Daltry with someone.”

“Thank you, McLeod. An excellent suggestion.” Stroking his chin, Papa had said, “In the meantime, we’ll interrogate the suspects as a group and get their alibis for the time of Daltry’s murder. With the others present, it’ll be more difficult for the culprit to get away with lies.”

Everyone had agreed to the plan. Which brought them to the present.

The clock on the mantel struck three.

“Here they come,” Papa said, his eyes on the street below.

Minutes later, Papa’s clerk ushered the visitors into the office. Rosie exchanged warm greetings with Lady Daltry, the Fossey sisters, and Mr. Theale. She returned Mr. James flirtatious smile with a reserved one of her own and kept her distance from his stepmama, who seemed no friendlier today than she’d been at their prior meeting.

“What’s this about, then?” Mrs. James announced imperiously the instant everyone had taken a seat. “I have prior engagements. Indeed, I would not have responded to these presumptuous summons had Alastair not convinced me that it was in the best interests of the family.”

“My stepmama is all about duty,” Alastair James said in an undertone to Rosie and winked.

The glare Mrs. James trained upon her stepson ought to have melted the skin from his bones.

“I apologize for the inconvenience,” Papa said from behind his desk, “but we have come upon some new evidence.”

“Evidence?” The dowager countess looked faintly alarmed. “Concerning what?”

“We now have reason to believe that the former Earl of Daltry was poisoned.”

If the surprise Rosie saw in the office was feigned, she couldn’t tell. Mrs. James paled and exchanged horrified looks with the dowager. Alastair James blinked, then his eyes narrowed at Mr. Theale. The latter, in turn, was looking in the direction of the Fossey sisters, who were sitting side by side on the leather sofa, their hands clutched.

“George was poisoned?” The dowager was the first to regain her voice. “But… why?”

“The answer’s obvious, don’t you think?” Mr. James drawled. “Which one of us benefits the most from his death?”

Mr. Theale jumped to his feet, his mask of amiability slipping. “How dare you accuse me, you bastard. I should call you out, sirrah!”

“Name the time and place.” Mr. James smirked. “I’m not afraid of you.”

“Alastair,” Mrs. James said sharply.

“That’s right—I forgot. Of course the great Alastair James isn’t afraid of a duel.” Mr. Theale’s fists clenched at his sides. “After all, you’ve killed before.”

Mr. James rose. “That was a goddamned accident!”

“Once a murderer always a murderer,” Mr. Theale shot back.

“Please,” Sybil said, her timid blue gaze skittering between the two men, “fighting doesn’t help matters.”

“Sit—both of you,” the dowager said. “And finish listening to what Mr. Kent has to say.”

The pair sat, anger and resentment sizzling between them.

“To clear up the matter, I wish to know your whereabouts, what you were doing and with whom, on the day Daltry was killed,” Papa said evenly. “You should also know that my colleague is, at this moment, en route to Gretna, where he will question the innkeep and others to track down the killer. One way or another, the truth will come out.”

“This is outrageous.” Mrs. James’ voice lacked its normal conviction.

Papa opened a notebook and picked up his pen. “Who would like to go first?”

“I will. I have nothing to hide,” Mr. Theale declared. “I was in Brighton.”

As Papa jotted this down, Mr. Lugo said, “With whom?”

“I was staying at the home of Mr. Albert Brace.” Mr. Theale flushed, his gaze trained on the carpet. “His daughter, Miss Bertha Brace, was also present.”

“I was at a house party,” Mr. James said quickly, as if he didn’t want to be outdone. “At a crony’s country seat in Kent.”