Hertestimony?
Something inside Elysande froze. “A female witness? I was only aware of Mr. Seward, the apothecary’s apprentice, who was responsible for allowing Mrs. Ainsley to enter the rooms that night.”
“Ah.” His expression turned pitying. “I trust His Grace did not make you aware of the reason for my prior call, then.”
She swallowed against a rush of suspicion. He was playing a game, she thought. Feeding her information in small allotments, watching her closely for her reaction. Hudson had failed to mention an additional witness to her, but she could not be certain if Chief Inspector O’Rourke was lying to bait her, or if his words were true. And even if they were true, and if there had indeed been another witness that evening, Hudson had friends aplenty who could testify he had been in their presence for most of the evening.
One of those friends was deep in his cups this morning, having learned of the deaths of his brothers. But she could only hope the Marquess of Greymoor was in a more lucid state of mind.
She made certain to keep her expression carefully blank. “Perhaps you should be clearer in the reason for today’s call to me, Chief Inspector O’Rourke. I confess, I am not certain why you are here.”
“Because Mrs. Adelaide Lamson has been found dead, Your Grace,” said the inspector, a sharp edge to his voice which had been previously absent.
Confusion, along with a new apprehension, lanced her. “Who is Mrs. Lamson, Inspector?”
“She is the woman whose sworn testimony implicates your husband in the murder of Mrs. Maude Ainsley,” O’Rourke said. “And now, she, too, is dead. A curious set of circumstances, would you not agree, Your Grace?”
Keep calm, Elysande.
Do not allow him to see a hint of emotion.
She knew Hudson. The man she loved was innocent of both crimes. But the man before her was doing everything in his power to prove otherwise.
“Quite curious,” she agreed, clinging to every modicum of composure she possessed. “I still fail to see what any of this has to do with me. Why have you come, Chief Inspector O’Rourke? What is it you hoped to gain from this call?”
“Ah, is it not obvious?” He shook his head, his countenance turning almost mournful. “Your husband is a murderer, Duchess. He murdered his paramour, Mrs. Ainsley. Given the violence of her murder, it was almost certainly a row. He was angry with her for some reason. He took up a knife, and he slashed her with it. Again, and again, and again.”
As he spoke, the inspector raised his hand as if he were holding a ghostly blade, making determined swipes through the air. The rational part of her knew he was making a grim spectacle, trying his utmost to shock and shake her. But she would not allow her poise to slip.
“He did nothing of the sort, Chief Inspector O’Rourke,” she denied calmly. “He has friends who can affirm his presence at the Black Souls club on the night of Mrs. Ainsley’s death. You have interviewed them, have you not?”
“Naturally, every facet of this case has been examined closely,” the inspector told her.
She knew that to be a falsehood, and her information emboldened her. “Strange, then, that the Marquess of Greymoor should have reported no one has spoken to him concerning the evening in question.”
O’Rourke’s lips curled into a sneer, which was partially hidden beneath his mustache. “I understand your loyalty lies with your husband. However, he is a dangerous man. It is likely that Mrs. Lamson was poisoned. She was found writhing and in agony last night and died at dawn this morning in hospital. I have no doubt the post mortem will confirm my suspicions. Like Mrs. Ainsley, Mrs. Lamson was seen in the presence of a gentleman resembling the duke.”
Nothing about the inspector’s story made sense. Her mind was whirling, struggling to comprehend, and yet she seized upon one important detail.
“When?” she asked.
The inspector frowned. “I beg your pardon?”
“When was Mrs. Lamson seen in the presence of someone resembling my husband, Chief Inspector O’Rourke?” she asked, rephrasing her question.
“Last evening, Your Grace.” There was a smug note of satisfaction in his voice, as if he believed he had finally swayed her.
In truth, he had just proven Hudson could not have been responsible for the other woman’s death. “Then it is impossible that my husband was seen with Mrs. Lamson, sir. His Grace was with me all evening and night. He did not leave my side until an hour ago.”
The inspector’s jaw tightened. “I was told he had attended his club late yesterday evening.”
“Who told you?”
“One of our sergeants has been watching your home. A gentleman was seen entering a carriage which was brought from the mews, and he was followed to the Black Souls club before the sergeant was called to attend another crime and had to leave. Presumably during my man’s absence, the duke took the opportunity to find his next victim.”
Chief Inspector O’Rourke was dissembling once more. That was the sole explanation for his words, for Hudson had not left the night before. Between the arrival of her family and the time they had spent together, there had been absolutely no opportunity for him to have taken a carriage anywhere…
Her family!
