Lady Charlotte’s hands pressed to her bosom, her lips trembling.
“He thought Eloisa was pretty,” Mr. James went on. “And a conniving bitch.”
Eloisa’s nostrils flared. “Howdareyou.”
“As for Sybil,” Mr. James said, his eyes gleaming with malice, “George said she was like cut-rate goods that a shop couldn’t get off its shelf.”
Tears shimmered in Sybil’s pale blue gaze.
Peter Theale surged to his feet. “Stop picking on her, you bastard!”
“Really, Alastair.” Even his stepmama looked uncomfortable. “Is this necessary?”
“Mrs. Kent asked about our relationships with George; I’m answering her question.” Alastair aimed a sardonic look at Mama. “George also thought that my stepmother was a grasping termagant and I a toadying fool who was after his money. There you have it: our splendid family portrait. Now are we done?”
A chilling awareness swept over Rosie. Her dead husband had had enemies—and not just because of his money. Hostility crackled in the room.
“We’re done.” Papa closed his notebook. “For the time being.”
One by one, Daltry’s stony-faced relatives filed out.
As they passed her, Rosie shivered.Which one of you killed Daltry? Which one of you wants me dead?
Chapter Thirty-Four
Rosie awoke, a scream crowding her throat.
Disoriented, breathing heavily, she waited until the tentacles of the nightmare receded. She must have dozed off in the wingchair whilst waiting for Andrew’s arrival. Rising, she went to check the ormolu clock on the mantel: it was nearingmidnight? Andrew had said he’d be here by ten o’clock so that she could fill him in on the outcome of the interviews today.
Where is he?Although she told herself that her panic was due to the bad dream, she couldn’t stem the feeling of dread. An icy fear that something had happened to Andrew.
She pulled the bell.
When Odette appeared, Rosie blurted, “Have you heard anything from Mr. Corbett?”
“Yes, my lady. You were asleep when his messenger arrived, so I didn’t disturb you.”
“What was the message?”
“Mr. Corbett apologizes, but he will not be coming this evening. He was detained by a problem at the Nursery House.”
Rosie’s relief dwindled. “What kind of a problem?”
“He did not provide specifics, my lady.”
Agitation thrummed in Rosie. She couldn’t shake off the sense of impending peril, and she didn’t like the idea of Andrew facing some trouble alone. Or, worse yet,notalone. Wasn’t the Nursery House the project that he and Fanny Argent were working on together? The notion of him being alone with that woman andat night…
A milk-fed miss like yourself wouldn’t understand,Fanny’s voice taunted her.Then again, there’s a lot you don’t understand about Corbett here, isn’t there?
Her shoulders tensing, Rosie came to an instant decision. Andrew washerlover. If anyone was going to help him with a problem, it should beher. God knew that she’d leaned on him enough. She wanted to return the favor—and to show that bloody Mrs. Argent that she was no useless miss.
“Fetch my cloak, please,” she said.
“Your cloak?” The maid frowned. “It is late, my lady, and not safe to go out—”
“I’ll take the guards with me. Go on.”
After Odette left, Rosie took out the pistol that Andrew had given her. True to his word, he’d taught her to shoot it a few nights ago, and she tucked it into her reticule for added security.
