What if she was wrong?
“Are you certain I’ve had no argument with Allendale?”
Julius arched an eyebrow. “Since the murder? No, Gory. Not that I am aware. Do you recall that he came by to visit you yesterday?”
She nodded and let the matter drop.
Havers and the Bow Street men were looking into Allendale’s absence and would report whatever they found out.
Havers was now frowning at the embarrassed clerk. “The lady is mistaken if she believes she has a choice in the matter. That I sent you to advise her of our arrival was merely a matter of courtesy. Run back upstairs and inform her that we will be knocking at her door in five minutes. If she does not open it, I will break it down and arrest her.”
The man tore up the stairs like a rock hurled from a catapult.
Julius laughed. “That will endear you to her, Havers.”
He shrugged. “I am not here to make people like me. My duty is to get at the truth. I do not like it when people avoid me. It always means they have something to hide.”
“Always?” Julius asked.
Havers nodded. “Yes.”
Gory had to admit Havers was smarter than he looked.
In truth, it ought to have come as a relief to her because the sooner Havers ruled her out as a suspect in her uncle’s murder, the sooner she could break off her betrothal and move on from Allendale. He was moving fairly swiftly in this investigation and appeared to be quite thorough in leaving no stone unturned.
“She will see you now,” the clerk reported, returning almost immediately.
“I thought she might,” Havers muttered.
The four of them walked upstairs, the dour matron taking up the rear while Havers took the lead. Her aunt’s maid, an unpleasant woman by the name of Flossie, stood at the open door. Her expression was haughty and unwelcoming as she watched them approach.
Julius cast Gory a reassuring glance.
“Do not fret for me. I am used to this outpouring of love and warmth,” she remarked with noticeable sarcasm, smiling wryly.
Her aunt was seated on the settee in the small but elegantly appointed parlor that was part of the impressive suite of rooms Julius had obtained for her. Her chin was raised as she posed like a queen upon a royal throne. “Who are these people?” she asked Gory, her lips curled in an all too familiar sneer. “I did not realize I was to have a parade through my private quarters.”
“This is Mr. Havers, the inspector in charge of the investigation. It is most important that he speaks to you,” Gory said, stepping forward with respectful solemnity. “I am so sorry for–”
Her aunt turned away when she attempted to buss her cheek. “I’ll have none of your false affection, Gregoria.”
“You know Lord Thorne, of course,” she said, trying to show a little patience now that her aunt was a widow. Indeed, she was surprised to find her aunt already clad in a gown of black bombazine silk and fully taking on the appearance of a bereaved wife. That was quite resourceful of her, considering Julius had brought her to the hotel the moment she had arrived home, and she hadn’t been given the chance to retrieve any of her clothing.
Also of note was that the gown appeared to be a new acquisition and not some old thing buried in her wardrobe to be brought out only on solemn occasions.
Had Havers noted this, too?
Or was her dislike of the woman clouding her judgment? After all, it was not unreasonable to assume that an earl’s wife would have a suitable attire at the ready for every eventuality. Perhaps one of the Easton footmen had delivered the gown to her last night or this morning.
She should have requested the same for herself, Gory realized. Instead, she had gone through Adela’s belongings because Adela’s gowns were far prettier than most of hers. Also, she could not bring herself to don any of her own gowns just yet, and might never.
The possibility that the killer had gone through them all and touched them with his evil hands left her quite sickened and ready to cast up her accounts.
“Lord Thorne acquired this suite for you,” she mentioned to her aunt, struggling to make polite conversation. “I hope you are comfortably settled.”
“Comfortable? After returning to London only to learn my husband has been murdered? I hardly think so, Gregoria. What a stupid thing to ask me.”
She felt Julius tense beside her.
