14
“Methinks the husband doth protest too much,” Livy said in hushed tones as she and Pippa entered the Hastings’s drawing room the following afternoon.
Taking in the lavish decorations, Pippa had to agree. Viscount Hastings took better care of his wife in death than he had in life. He’d spent a small fortune on the funeral, with huge white bouquets blooming throughout the room, their cloying scent unable to mask the faint smell of decay. Fine black crepe had been draped over the mirrors, and rows of chairs with black velvet cushions faced Lady Hastings’s casket. Fashioned of gleaming wood, her coffin had an ornate breastplate, scrolled grips, and at least a half-dozen escutcheons. Afterward, the lady would be laid to rest in the exclusive Kensal Green cemetery.
With private disgust, Pippa noted the thread of titillation that wove through the crowd. Splashed on the front pages of all the newspapers, the gruesome murder had drawn curious onlookers in droves. Those who’d snubbed Julianna Hastings in life had no qualms salivating over her in death. Pippa’s chest tightened: from personal experience, she knew that marrying above one’s station, even for love, didn’t erase one’s middling class roots. Although she was not ashamed of her origins, she’d nonetheless worked hard to be a countess worthy of her husband’s name.
Edwin hadn’t paid much notice to her efforts…except to note her shortcomings.
Are you certain that frock iscomme il faut, my dear?
There will be many true artists at the soiree, so do refrain from discussing your dabbling with paints, hmm?
As Mama says, a lady should be seen and not heard.
Wanting to please him, Pippa had redoubled her efforts, not realizing how, with each comment and underhanded criticism, he’d whittled down her self-confidence.
She yanked off the tentacles of the past and focused on Viscount Hastings, who was posed by the casket. For a bereaved widower, he looked rather dapper and well-rested. His black armband glinted against his dark coat, his hair bright as a guinea as he received condolences from a long line of well-wishers.
What a repugnant fraud, Pippa seethed.
“While Hastings is occupied, let’s see what we can learn from the servants,” Livy whispered. “I’ll talk to the lady’s maid over there. She looks like one of the few genuinely mourning her mistress. Perhaps she knows something useful.”
Pippa nodded. “I’ll find the butler.”
They were on a reconnaissance mission to find evidence of Hastings’s guilt. If anyone knew the state of affairs between master and mistress, it would be the servants.
Pippa found the butler in the antechamber. She’d taken stock of him when he let her and Livy in earlier. A tall, strapping man with greying hair at the temples, he had a distinguished bearing that suited his role as the male head of the staff. His face was carved with deep lines; shadows hung beneath his dark, rather piercing eyes.
Taking advantage of the lull, Pippa approached him. “Pardon me, sir…”
“It is Wood, my lady.” His deep voice had a soothing quality. “May I be of assistance?”
Calling upon her training, she summoned creditable tears. “I seem to have forgotten my handkerchief. How silly of me, given the occasion…”
“Here you are, my lady.” Wood slipped her a spare handkerchief with a circumspection that attested to his professional skill.
“Thank you, sir.” She dabbed at her eyes. “I…I’m not usually a watering pot. But Lady Hastings and I were friends, and seeing her that way…”
Was that grief flashing through the butler’s eyes? A moment later, his gaze shuttered.
“The situation would distress anyone, let alone a lady with delicate sensibilities,” he said gravely. “Beg pardon, I had not realized that you and Lady Hastings were close.”
“It was a recent friendship. We met at a ladies’ function,” Pippa improvised. “She and I had much in common, given our backgrounds.”
The butler’s expression softened a fraction. “I see.”
Sniffling, Pippa asked, “Have you served the household long?”
“Not long, my lady. But I have known Lady Hastings since she was a girl, having been in her father’s employ for nearly two decades. After Mr. Turner passed, Lady Hastings offered me this position.”
Which meant Wood was a longtime retainer of the Turner family and likely loyal to Julianna rather than her husband.
Taking a gamble, Pippa said, “Lady Hastings and I confided in one another about our disappointments. Knowing her as well as you did, perhaps you were aware of her concerns?”
Wood’s posture tensed. “Her concerns, madam?”
“She told me that things were not…as they should be between her and Lord Hastings. And she seemed rather fearful of him. Have you, by any chance, noticed anything amiss between them?”
