They did not bother with pleasantries. Roderick followed James into the study, closing the door behind them.
“What have you found?” James asked.
Roderick leaned against the desk. “Harrowby is involved.”
James’s jaw tightened. “To what extent.”
“Not as directly as we hoped,” Roderick said. “But not as innocently as he claims.”
James gestured for him to continue.
“He hired a man,” Roderick said. “A footman. Temporarily.”
James frowned. “For what purpose.”
“One of his own fell ill,” Roderick replied. “He required a replacement for a single evening.”
James’s pulse quickened. “Which evening?”
Roderick met his gaze. “The last ball your parents attended.”
Silence settled between them.
“And the terms,” James said carefully.
“The man was not Harrowby’s,” Roderick continued. “He was borrowed. His employer required substantial payment for the service.”
James’s fingers curled against the edge of the desk. “That is unusual.”
“Yes,” Roderick said. “And telling.”
James exhaled slowly. “Do we know the man’s name?”
“Not yet,” Roderick replied. “But we know who employed him.”
James’s gaze sharpened. “Who?”
“A minor household in Kent,” Roderick said. “Small. Discreet. Loyal to no one of consequence.”
James nodded. “Convenient.”
“Exactly,” Roderick said. “And Harrowby claims it was a simple arrangement. One evening. One payment. No further contact.”
James’s mouth tightened. “Do you believe him?”
“I believe,” Roderick said, “that he is telling the truth in the way liars prefer. Narrowly.”
James straightened. “Then we pursue the employer.”
“Yes,” Roderick replied. “Quietly.”
James turned toward the window, his thoughts racing. The pieces were aligning, but not yet forming a picture.
“And Eleanor,” Roderick said carefully.
James did not turn. “What about her?”
“She mentioned Langford House,” Roderick said.
