“Hmm,” said Constance. “Did you wish to be private with me?”
Bella hesitated. “Partly.”
Constance closed the door and sat beside her.
“You understand men,” Bella blurted.
“I have reason to,” Constance said evenly.
The girl met her gaze. “Would you tell me if I was wrong to trust Han Cordell?”
“Yes,” Constance replied.
“Even though he’s your client?”
“Not in the manner of his life. He really was never a client ofmine. He is not that type of man, and I think you know it.”
“Then why am I still so angry with him?” Bella demanded.
“Because he came to us behind your back?”
Bella stared at her, then suddenly laughed. “You’re right.”
“I imagine he was protecting you,” Constance said, “but you need to be clear between yourselves about honesty before you marry.”
“Were you and Mr. Grey?”
“Yes,” Constance said, before she remembered the insight that had been creeping up on her and that she had not yet shared with Solomon. There were many forms of protection.
“Then I shall speak to Han,” Bella said. “Mama has very fixed rules about what a lady should and should not discuss with her husband, let alone a mere husband-to-be.”
“Did she keep to these rules in her own marriage?”
“I expect she did. Which is possibly why they never spoke of anything that mattered. Do you know he was a musician? My father played the violin quite beautifully.”
“So a friend told me.”
“He stopped playing in public to please my mother, but they never spoke about it. He never told her what music meant to him. And she never explained the reason for her disapproval. Or her disappointment…” Bella straightened. “Have you learned any more about my father’s death?”
“A little. In fact, if we could join Solomon, there are several matters you could help us with.”
“Of course.”
A few minutes later, when they were all settled in Solomon’s office with tea, Constance asked, “Did your father ever talk of an old friend called Gareth Neville?”
Bella sipped her tea thoughtfully. “Not that I can recall.”
“What about Zenobia Paul?” Solomon asked.
Bella wrinkled her nose. “Very occasionally. Mama did not care for her. From her distaste and Anthony’s and Han’s evasions, I suspect she was my father’s mistress.”
“I don’t believe she was,” Constance said, “but she was certainly an old friend.”
“What about Elton Granger?” Solomon asked. “The member of Parliament.”
“Oh yes, we know him. He and his wife come to dinner sometimes, and we occasionally dine with them. I like him. So does Han. In fact, I think Han has similar ambitions.”
“Then your father never quarreled with Mr. Granger? Or with Miss Paul?”
