“The night before, I had been asked to hold the gathering for Mrs. Jones. Nothing at our estate was ready for that task. George asked to help my wife, me, and our staff ready the estate. We all worked, and I did not ask him to; he volunteered.”
“He’s too young to know better. I made sure to address that problem last night,” Inglewood said.
“What did you do, beat him?” James asked calmly.
Inglewood’s nostrils flared with anger. “You, sir, are impertinent,” he said loudly.
James shrugged. “Your son is a fine young man, a man with a desire for friendship and approval. You should be proud of him, not condemning.”
Inglewood bristled. “He needs to learn the Inglewood place in society, and it is not doing menial tasks or playing at sea captain. Stay away from him or else!”
Behind Inglewood, James saw those by the gravesite turn in their direction as the squire raised his voice.
“Or else what?” James dropped his arms to his sides. He did not like Inglewood, but did not desire to get into an altercation on church holy grounds. Nonetheless, he would not slink away as many in the town did, and Inglewood appeared to expect.
“You forget I am the magistrate here.”
“I forget nothing; however, I do fail to understand what you being the local magistrate has to do with this conversation,” James returned. His voice assumed a harder, though still quiet, tone.
“I will have you arrested and thrown into my gaol!” Inglewood yelled at him.
“On trumped-up charges, as you did to Mr. Vernon?”
“Everything all right here?” Aldrich called out as he walked back from the cemetery.
Inglewood swung around. The burial finished, the men were making their way back toward the church.
Inglewood swung back toward James. “I am not finished with you,” he growled.
James raised an eyebrow. Inglewood sneered and stalked away toward Inglewood Manor.
“What was that about?” Aldrich asked James as he came up beside him.
“Inglewood told me to stay away from his son. I believe he thinks me a bad influence on him.”
Aldrich barked a laugh. “You? A bad influence? The Peninsular War hero? The righter of wrongs and purveyor of justice, a bad influence?”
James relaxed. He smiled at his friend. “The righter of wrongs and purveyor of justice is my wife, I merely follow where she leads.”
Aldrich clapped him on his back and laughed louder. Together, they walked to Summerworth Park and James told him about the diary contents.
“I believe it,” Aldrich said, nodding. “But that wouldn’t stand up before a judge as evidence.”
“We know. We need him to incriminate himself.”
Lord Aldrich frowned. “How do you intend to do that?”
“Gossip. At the gathering, it will become known that Cecilia and I have found and read Miss Inglewood’s diary.”
“And you intend to share information from the diary?”
James nodded slowly. “And what we have learned through our investigation.”
“What would that be?”
“The pennyroyal was kept in a canister in the kitchen.”
“That’s macabre,” Aldrich said, his mouth twisting in distaste.
