“I believe I know what to do to get Mr. Crell’s attention.”
“You want a possible murderer to pay attention to you?” Warren frowned slightly.
“Not when you put like that.” Meredith hastily ducked her head when she realized that someone might overhear so she lowered her voice. Warren clasped one of her hands with his over their heads, drawing them close to each other. “But after Mr. Doyle made it clear we needed evidence, I’ve been pondering how to find some. I think I have the answer.”
They danced away from each other and then came toward each other again. Then it was their turn to dance down the aisle of the other couples. She remained quiet until they were close once again, dancing in their own small circles where she felt confident no one would overhear what they were saying.
“You followed Mr. Crell to his house in the country, correct?”
Warren nodded.
“Could find your way back there?”
“Easily,” he assured her. “Why?”
“I wish for you to deliver a letter to Mr. Crell from me. I will not sign it, nor will it have any identifying information on it. I want you to leave it at his house without any idea who has left it for him. It cannot be traced back to Darius or his home.”
Warren’s brows lifted. “Crell already suspects Darius is involved because he went with Doyle to Crell’s house. That butler will surely have reported the event to his master.”
“You’re right. Why don’t one of you take Darius hunting in the country for a few days? Chelsea could make sure Dobbs would hear that Darius is gone from the city, then it wouldn’t look as though he had sent the note, or at the least there would be a witness that Darius was nowhere near Crell’s country estate and Felix will be able to testify that Darius didn’t hire a messenger to send it either..”
“Dare I ask what will be in this note?”
“An accusation,” Meredith replied. “I will tell him that I have proof of what he did to Mrs. Crell and I want to be paid for my silence.”
Warren’s eyes widened. “You want to blackmail Crell?”
“Not at all. I only wish for him to think so. I will ask him to meet me during the day when Darius is off in the country. Then I can have Doyle listen in on my conversation with Mr. Crell and have him taken into custody if he confesses.”
“And how exactly do you plan to make Crell confess in front of Doyle?”
Meredith grinned at her own cleverness. “He won’t know Doyle will be there. I will have Doyle listen on the other side of the garden wall. He will be invisible to Mr. Crell.”
Warren’s eyes brightened. “You know, that’s not a half bad plan.”
“So you will agree to deliver the letter to him?”
Warren considered the matter. “Perhaps Felix can convince Darius to leave. His country house has fine grounds for shooting. I will speak with him about it tonight.”
“Thank you, Warren.” Meredith felt positively giddy when she and Warren finished their dance.
He escorted her back to Mrs. Petersham and Darius, but she slipped away for a quick visit to the refreshment tables. She wove her way through the crush of bodies and smiled when she saw Suzannah and Kit twirling out on the dance floor. Her heart twinged with longing. To have what they did, that easy love, that sense of rightness and belonging to one another… She would give anything to have that.
Her smile faltered. She had managed to forget only briefly that she might never have that, not unless she resolved to find someone who would love her the way she deserved to be loved. She paused behind the table laden with treats, but her appetite was now gone. A group of young women had their backs to Meredith as they watched the dancers. It was clear they had seen her approach because they started speaking, and Meredith was meant to overhear their whispered conversation.
“She’s illegitimate, you know. Yes, that’s what I heard.” One young woman said to her companion.
“What is she even doing here? Why would Tiverton bring her out into society?”
“They say his uncle made Tiverton agree to take her in as his deathbed wish. He must have agreed out of honor and pity. Tiverton is quite gracious after all. He would not wish to turn her out, even if she is no better than a beggar.”
“You don’t think he…” one whispered, but the rest of what the woman said went unheard as a swell of music drowned out her words.
“Choose her over you? No, you are the daughter of an earl, he would never pass you over for some street born creature.”
Street born? A flash of rage and pain gripped her. She wasn’t street born, she was… she was…
She was no one. No one worth caring about, worth saving, worth…loving, especially not by someone like Darius. He had admitted as much to Mrs. Petersham.
