Eleanor stomped forward and rescued the plant from his prodding. She held the pot to her abdomen. “You mean to say that a viscountess was out roaming the streets of London unattended at night? That would be madness.” And madness was a quality she feared she was becoming all too familiar with lately.
Mr. Rollins cleared his throat. “It wasn’t as dangerous as you might suppose. Lady Richford was dressed as a man. And a fairly convincing one, too, if one didn’t look too closely.”
Lady Mary must have been as shocked as Eleanor, for neither woman spoke for some moments. Finally, the older woman said, “Was she in a play like her son, and performing a male’s role?”
“She was not.” Mr. Rollins crossed his ankles. “She said she liked the freedom pretending to be a man gave her, the ability to travel without an escort. When I took her home, her husband was clearly surprised at her activities, but didn’t seem overly shocked that his wife would do such a thing, if that makes sense.”
“He knows what her temperament makes her capable of, even if not the exact form of her actions.” Lady Mary nodded. “Well. That changes matters. Could the cravat that she was strangled with have been her own?” She waved her hand and dismissed that almost instantly. “She was dressed in a gown when we found her. If she was still dressing as a man, it wasn’t on that night.”
Eleanor leaned back against the desk. She absently stroked one of the succulent’s fat leaves. “I wonder what it would be like to walk about as a man.”
“Keep wondering.” Mr. Rollins glowered. “Even dressed as a man, it isn’t safe. If some scoundrel had looked closely enough, Lady Richford could have been in real trouble.”
“I’d say she found enough trouble wearing a gown, as well.” But his point was well made. It wasn’t just raiment that made a man. There was increased height, generally, strength, and the body—
“A man’s jacket hid…?” Eleanor blushed, gesturing to her bosom.
Mr. Rollins’s lips twitched. “I believe the lady wore a wrap of some sort, to minimize her curves.”
“Ingenious.” Lady Mary stared at the ceiling. “And so the Richfords became indebted to you for your discretion, and when trouble found them again, the viscount called you.”
Mr. Rollins drew his shoulders back. “Yes.”
“And how much do you wish to remain in Lord Richford’s favor?” Lady Mary asked.
“I feel as though you are insinuating something.” Rollins narrowed his eyes. “Ask what you want directly, please.”
Lady Mary dropped her head to give him a frank stare. “The Home Office gives Bow Street some funds each year, but you are essentially hired by the victim’s family. You will receive the bulk of your fee from Richford. In consequence of that, are you considering Lady Richford’s family as potential suspects? If the evidence leads to the husband or son, will you have him arrested or will you conceal his guilt?”
The pointed questions weren’t even directed at her, but Eleanor still swallowed. The silence in the room grew uncomfortable. She hugged the plant closer and waited for the Runner’s answer.
Mr. Rollins slowly unfolded, rising to his feet. “I didn’t take payment from Lord Richford when he offered it to me for my discretion on Lady Richford’s eccentricity. I followed my conscience and my duty. Even though the viscount has retained me now, I will still follow my conscience, and follow the facts no matter where they lead.”
Eleanor pursed her lips. Mr. Rollins was still too arrogant and irritating for her liking, but she was forced to admit he might have some good qualities, too. She had learned what it was to no longer have the protections of wealth and social standing. Without them, the morals of the men she encountered became that much more important. She might not like Mr. Rollins, but he was earning her respect.
A knock sounded at the door. “Enter,” Lady Mary called.
Bobby poked his head inside. “Milady, the liquor distributor is here. He says there’s a problem with your latest order.”
Lady Mary blew out a breath. “Send him back, please.” She opened her desk drawer and pulled out a file. “I have to deal with this. Let me know if either of you need any assistance from meon this matter. Perhaps we should meet up again in a couple of days?”
Both Eleanor and Mr. Rollins nodded and turned to leave. Eleanor passed by Bobby, heat infusing her face at his smirk, as she hurried from the room.
Mr. Rollins took her arm, pulling her aside in the hallway for the footman to pass. He waited until Bobby’s back disappeared around a bend. “Show me where you and Bobby had yourrendezvous.”
“Why?” She shook her arm free, tipping up her chin. Even though she felt shame for her actions, she wasn’t going to let Mr. Rollins see it.
“I need to know where everyone was at the time of the murder. Were you in a position to see or hear anything, even if you didn’t notice it at the time? Was Bobby?”
Eleanor frowned. “I saw nothing.”
“Show me in any case.” There was a steely determination in his voice, and Eleanor knew she couldn’t avoid this without a fight, one she would probably lose.
“Fine,” she said crossly. She led him down one hall and up another, passing Bobby and the man who must be the liquor distributor. She bent and picked up an arrow that had been left on the ground. She placed it on a side table then stumbled over the bow that peeked out from beneath the same table. She gasped as the floor came rushing up to meet her.
A strong arm banded around her middle, stopping her fall and pulling her upright. “Why are there bows and arrows lying about on the floor?” Mr. Rollins asked. His tone was scornful, whether over the general untidiness of the club or over the fact that women would be engaged in such a sport, Eleanor didn’t know. Either way, it put her back up.
“It was only one bow and one arrow.” She turned in his arm, her chest brushing against his. The tips of her breasts tingled,but she ignored it. She raised her chin. “I suppose if I went to your rooms I would find your floors spotless?” Actually, now that she thought about it, the Runner’s floors probably were spotless. He didn’t seem like a man who would abide clutter.
