Leo had come into the threshold behind Jasper. “That isn’t necessary,” she replied. “Harrow is large enough. I’m sure that if we can travel around the downed trees, we can find lodging in town.”
“The viscount will not hear of it,” Decamp insisted. “And the driver waiting for you has gone. As soon as your rooms are ready, you’ll be shown to them to freshen yourselves before dinner, which will be served in the dining room at eight o’clock.”
So, not only would they be stuck here for the night, but they were to dine with the family.Hell.At least they would have plenty of time to question Helen. Although as soon as the topic of Theodore’s death came up, Jasper wasn’t certain the viscount and the Daltons wouldn’t boot them both straight out into the storm.
Chapter Three
The dining room glittered with candlelight. To combat the cut to the electric supply, an excess of tapers and paraffin lamps had been arranged down the long table, along with two floral centerpieces that reminded Leo of funereal sprays. The storm had lessened, but it hadn’t abated, and even now, a few hours after being shown to her guest room, intermittent winds hammered at the manor’s time-weathered exterior.
As Leo entered the dining room, she noted all but two place settings at the table had been claimed. Her own spot, of course, and the one at the head of the table. The viscount’s, she presumed. To Leo’s relief, Jasper was already present. He, along with Anthony Dalton, the solicitor Mr. Corman, and another man in a handsome wine-red velvet dinner jacket who had not been present at the will reading, stood politely as she entered the dreary room. The three women, Helen, Nadia, and a third around their same age, remained seated and quiet.
Leo met Jasper’s eyes, which narrowed and seemed to inspect her for anything that might be wrong. She’d missed the vigilance of his gaze these last months; the way it lent her a sense of security. A footman pulled out a chair for her, and with someunease, she took her seat. Thankfully, she sat directly across from Jasper. The unpalatable Anthony Dalton was to her right, and Mr. Corman, to her left.
“We were beginning to fear you’d lost your way in the dark,” Nadia Stroud said as she was just about to sip from her glass of wine. “But how could you, I suppose, when you possess—what was it you said, Mr. Corman? A photographic memory?”
Leo pinned the young woman, and then the solicitor, with a startled stare.
Mr. Corman’s cheeks reddened with remorse. “Ahem, yes,” he said, clearing his throat as if nervous. “Mrs. Stroud did mention as much to me when arranging for her will.”
It was information that only the Inspector could have provided Francine with. Strangely, a sour sense of betrayal made its way through Leo. Why would he have been speaking to Francine Stroud about her unusual memory?
“How very special, Miss Spencer,” Nadia said, though the teasing curve of her lips was not meant to be friendly.
While in school, when she’d been younger, Leo had not had many friends among the other girls. She’d known, even then, that she came across as too serious and standoffish, and she had not been interested in changing those qualities about herself just to fit in. However, not being part of any particular circle of friends had allowed her the opportunity to observe them. Francine Stroud’s younger daughter had the pinched expression of someone who was secretly eager to see how her veiled barb would land.
Leo paid her little mind as she unfolded her napkin and placed it onto her lap and decided not to respond to the comment about her memory. Nor would she point out that since she had not yet visited the dining room, she could not have remembered the way. It would only sound peevish, and it was clear Nadia’s intent had been to provoke her.
“A footman was kind enough to show me the way,” she said.
In fact, the uniformed young man had been waiting at the landing of the stairs as if he’d been assigned to do just that. She’d been impatient to escape her room almost as soon as she had been shown into it earlier. A maid named Ursula had immediately come to draw a bath, which Leo had initially refused. She only wanted to rejoin Jasper and seek out Helen Dalton for their interview regarding Teddy Stroud. However, the young maid had informed her that Mrs. Dalton had gone to her room with a megrim and that she’d taken a draught to help her rest.
Then, as Ursula turned on the taps in the small bath chamber attached to Leo’s room, the hot water steaming the air as it pooled into the white enamel tub, she’d given in to the luxurious temptation of a bath. At her own home, she had but a small metal tub in a backroom off the kitchen that she would fill with water heated on the hob. When cool water was added to the hot, the tepid result left her riddled with gooseflesh, so she bathed as quickly as possible.
The cost for installing pipes for indoor plumbing would be far too costly for Leo and her aunt and uncle, Flora and Claude Feldman. Jasper, she knew, had plumbing at his much finer home on Charles Street. And as she disrobed and settled into the hot water, scented with rose oil, she considered that the house on Craven Hill would likely have it as well. She’d spent far more time bathing than she usually would, her hair pinned up high so that it wouldn’t become wet. Her mind had wandered through the details of Francine Stroud’s letter, the reactions of her family when the solicitor had read the bequest to Leo and Jasper, and the curious absence of the viscount.
She looked again toward his empty chair at the head of the dinner table, and her eyes met with the man in the velvet dinner jacket. He was in his mid- to late thirties, with dark hair andeyes, though the poor lighting could have been the cause for his irises to appear fathomless. He dipped his chin in a polite nod and, as gentlemen were trained to do with ladies, withheld from speaking or introducing himself until someone else did so. Helen Dalton took up the task, her hand clutched around the stem of her wine glass.
“Miss Spencer, I should introduce my uncle, Frederick Cowper, and his wife, Millicent. Frederick, Millicent, this is Miss Leonora Spencer.”
Leo felt her brow twitch before she could school her immediate reaction.Uncle?Gracious, Mr. Cowper appeared no more than a handful of years older than Helen and Nadia. She would have guessed him to be a cousin or brother.
“Pleased to make your acquaintance,” she said to him and to his wife, the latter of whom had no qualms about appearing utterly bored.
Beside Leo, Mr. Dalton snorted a laugh.
“You are wondering how they can possibly be uncle and niece,” he remarked, having noted Leo’s surprise after all. “Frederick is the issue of the viscount’s second wife,” he explained, his voice too loud, his tone unmistakably mocking. His glass of wine was empty, and with an impatient gesture, he indicated the footman should refill it.
Mr. Cowper glowered at Mr. Dalton before cutting his attention to Leo. It brightened visibly as he tried to be courteous. “Miss Spencer, a pleasure to meet you. I am sorry you’ve been detained from returning home this evening, though I hope your stay here will be comfortable.”
The greeting was more welcoming than anything had been so far at Cowper Hall. She offered her thanks, though it was drowned out by Mr. Dalton’s guttering laugh. “Ah, yes, ever the gentleman, Frederick is.” He leaned to the side, closer to Leo’s shoulder. She resisted leaning away from him, though she wastempted, especially as he brought with him the sour odor of whisky. “And the irrefutable apple of the viscount’s eye.”
This made him laugh again, though Leo could see nothing humorous about the statement. Neither could anyone else, apparently. Helen tried to disappear into her glass of wine, while Nadia rolled her eyes and sighed.
“Will the viscount be joining us?” Jasper asked, his voice firm enough to steal Mr. Dalton’s attention, which had drifted toward Leo’s lap. The man was utterly soused.
“Not if we are lucky,” Mr. Dalton said as he straightened again and leaned away from her.
A footman came forward to pour wine into Leo’s glass, and she readily sipped the claret. The sooner this dinner was over, the better. Jasper’s livid stare as he leveled it at her drunken neighbor hinted that he felt much the same.
