“The Poole residence on Wells Street.” I settled myself inside, lowering the far window.
Eleanor tucked her skirts away, and Ernest closed the door. The carriage jostled as he climbed back to his perch. “We’re going to ask about Miss Abbott’s alibi.”
“To start.” We had one less suspect now, and one more time of death for our remaining suspects to account for. But I’d start with Miss Abbott’s claim that she was at a salon at the time of Lady Richford’s murder. It should be simple enough to confirm.
And it was. Mr. Poole agreed to see us and confirmed that Miss Abbott had been there that night to hear William Godwin. She’d asked a question near the beginning of the lecture and added a comment somewhere near the middle.
Mr. Poole’s doorman didn’t know Miss Abbott by name or face, but he was certain she hadn’t left early. “There were refreshments after the lecture. The attendees didn’t leave until about one that morn.”
“No one left early?” Eleanor asked, a line wrinkling her brow.
“No single women,” the doorman confirmed. He rubbed his jaw. “No women in pairs, neither. A couple men left early, and with the topic, no wonder, but no women came out until the end.”
“Any other doors someone could have exited by?” The townhouse was two stories high and wedged between others in the middle of the block. There were no side exits, obviously, but Miss Abbott could have crept out the rear, climbed over several fences to get to the side street.
Not likely, but possible.
The doorman shook his head. “I closed the house that night. The back door was locked. If someone had slipped out of it, there was no way to lock it again behind them.”
I sighed. We would have to ask Miss Abbott where she was at the time of Bannister’s death, but her whereabouts during Lady Richford’s seemed certain.
“What now?” Eleanor asked, looking up and down the street as though expecting inspiration to ride down and greet us.
“Now we part ways.” I nodded to Ernest, and after giving the necks of my pair of greys one last rub, he opened the carriage door. “I need to speak with Lord Anglia. It’s better if I do so alone.”
I wouldn’t have Anglia turn his vicious eye on Eleanor. With the problems her mother was having, there was too rich an avenue of attack on the Lynton family. “Perhaps you could seek Mrs. Massey. Determine her whereabouts at the time of Bannister’s murder. Subtly, of course.”
Eleanor hefted her reticule. “Mr. Rollins gave me sketches of jewelry found at Bannister’s home. Jewelry unlikely to belong to him. He asked me to speak with the local jewelers and see if I can find out the ownership of any of the pieces.” She blushed. “If I had time.”
I tilted my head, examining the girl. “When did you see Mr. Rollins last? Bannister was only killed last night.”
Her blush deepened. “We had luncheon together before I came to the club.” A small frown crossed her mouth. “He was exhausted. I don’t believe he had slept at all since he took me home last night.”
I pressed my lips together to suppress my grin. She sounded much too concerned over our Runner’s welfare, considering they had been butting heads mere days ago.
My smile turned nostalgic. I remembered some of the fights I’d had with my husband, and how those had ended. Sometimesa passion of one sort transformed into another in the most delightful of ways. “Is there an understanding between you and Mr. Rollins?”
“We haven’t…we don’t….” Eleanor swung her head left, then right, then dragged me behind the carriage. “Lady Mary, I need your counsel. How can one be certain?”
“Of a man?”
“Of love.” She darted a look over her shoulder, confirming we were still not overheard. “When I am with him, it all seems so clear. But now that we’re apart….”
“Doubts creep in.” I prodded my walking stick into the ground. I wondered if Eleanor was more or less fortunate than the young women who had no choice in the matter of whom to marry. With her father’s death and the inheritance already bestowed upon her, she was in the position to make her own decisions about whom to marry or whether to marry at all. Some women would envy her that freedom.
“My father arranged my marriage,” I said. “I suppose if I had vociferously objected, he would have taken my feelings into consideration, but Cavindish seemed virtuous and kind. And he filled out his pantaloons in quite a distracting way.”
Eleanor chuckled.
“We found love because we both chose it.” I lifted one shoulder. “It doesn’t have to be more complicated than that.”
She nibbled on her bottom lip. “If one could trust the man to choose it.”
I slapped her on the back. “And if he can trust you. Now, if you are going to be scouring all the jewelry shops in London, you should take my carriage and I’ll find a hackney.”
Ernest popped his head around the side of the carriage, his face pinched. “Milady, you shouldn’t be riding alone in a hired coach.”
My irritation rose, knowing it was most likely my age that made him worry. Or he thought my wealth made me a target. Or he was worried that if something happened to me, he was out of a position. Perhaps his concern shouldn’t annoy me.
