“Do—” Charlotte paused, moistening her lips as her heart thudded in quick, almost painful beats. “Do you have reason to question the circumstances of Lady Hawley’s death?”
Lady Greenvale’s mouth twisted, and for a moment, her bravado cracked. Charlotte saw a glimpse of her sorrow before the countess used fierceness to sweep away grief. “Nothing that wouldn’t be dismissed as either the rights of a husband, private matters between spouses, or the fantasies of a hysterical, grieving woman.”
“Oh,” Charlotte said, trying hard to keep her disappointment from her voice. Lady Greenvale did not need Charlotte’s worries adding to her own pain.
Lady Greenvale suddenly looked around the room. Then she leaned over the small wooden table separating them. When she spoke again, her voice was low. “There is one thing. I am not certain of its significance, but it is linked to something tangible.”
“What is it?” Charlotte asked, gripping the arms of her chair so hard that her fingers almost cramped around the wood.
“I am debating whether I should tell you.” Lady Greenvale’s fawn-colored eyes searched Charlotte’s. “My own inquiries about it have yielded nothing, and it might bring you danger.”
“I am about to be engaged to Lord Hawley against my will. We both know that I am already in peril. Is that not why you are speaking to me so openly?” Charlotte dropped all pretense. She sensed that Lady Greenvale would confide in her only if she truly believed Charlotte had enough strength and courage to make use of the clue.
A sad smile drifted across Lady Greenvale’s face. “You are not like my sister. She was so blinded by Lord Hawley’s handsomeness and wealth. You see the trueness of the man.”
“My own brother was tormented by the viscount when they attended school together,” Charlotte admitted. “But my parents do not care about Hawley’s past. They only see his future as a duke.”
“I will tell you what I know, but I am afraid it is not much.” Lady Greenvale sighed, and this time she didn’t hide her pain. “My sister grew to be afraid of the viscount and then to loathe him, but she did not trust me with her secrets. She was too afraid, I think, that I would confront Hawley and be hurt in the process.”
Charlotte was the one who reached out now to press her fingers against Lady Greenvale’s. She did not offer an apology for she understood now that the countess didn’t want any of those. She desired answers, not platitudes.
“I visited my sister a few days before her death, and she bustled into the drawing room all flushed and excited. I noticedwhat appeared to be old-fashioned jewelry dangling from the slit in her skirts. My sister loved the newest designs, especially delicate, finely wrought pieces. What I’d glimpsed, though, was a thick choker with pearl flowers forming a daisy-like chain. I was afraid her husband was dictating the smallest minutiae of her life, so I questioned her. She shoved the gems out of sight and tried to change the subject. When I pressed her, she promised that very soon she would be able to tell me everything. I wasn’t satisfied with that answer, but she would only say that the necklace was a key to unlock the shackles keeping her prisoner.”
“What happened to the choker?” Charlotte asked. Energy flickered through her, like a thousand wildfires igniting at once.
“I do not know,” Lady Greenvale said. “I mentioned it to Lord Hawley, but he told me that he knew nothing about it. I have asked her friends if they ever saw it, but they had not.”
“Could you sketch it?” Charlotte asked, her words tumbling out excitedly as she imagined using the drawing to question the other patrons of the Black Sheep, especially the unsavory sorts.
Lady Greenvale regretfully shook her head. “I am not an artist, and I barely saw the jewels. But it might be for the best. Showing a picture of the accessory or even inquiring about it may put your life at risk. In fact, only yesterday, I was warned to stop talking about the pearls.”
“By Lord Hawley?” Charlotte asked as shivers of anticipation skittered up and down her spine. If the viscount was issuing threats, then perhaps the necklace was indeed proof of some misdeed.
The left side of Lady Greenvale’s mouth twisted downward as she seemed to be mulling how to answer. “No. It was his brother. The youngest one who became a physician and scientist. I am not sure if it was well-intentioned advice or an attempt at intimidation. He was exceedingly urgent in his instructions for secrecy though.”
“Dr. Talbot told you not to discuss the choker?” Charlotte’s heart felt as if someone had struck her chest, it convulsed so violently. Could Matthew truly be involved? Although Charlotte had not discounted him as a suspect, part of her had never truly considered him to be a villain. But now uncertainty crept in.
“Yes. As I said, he very emphatically told me to never again discuss it with others.”
“Why did you mention it to him in the first place?” Charlotte’s mind scrambled to understand this new information, desperate to put it into a pattern that both made sense and didn’t categorize Matthew as a lackey for his brother.
“After I arrived at the Black Sheep yesterday, Dr. Talbot approached me—very politely I might add. He introduced himself and expressed his condolences. Although he did not outright say that he suspected his brother of harming my sister, his words skirted close to such a confession.”
“Dr. Talbot was investigating Hawley then? Not seeking to protect him?” Charlotte asked hopefully.
“Of that I am not clear.” Lady Greenvale continued to twist her lips as she clearly wrestled with Charlotte’s question. “He may be seeking to unmask his brother’s perfidy or he could be keen to cover up what others know. I trust no one of the Lansberry line. They can charm and kill at the same time.”
But Matthew was different. Wasn’t he? How could the man who talked so passionately about saving an unloved pest like the wildcat be on the side of his vicious brother? But hadn’t Charlotte herself considered it, knowing how much blood ties can bind a person?
Betrayal and pain engulfed her. Although Matthew had made her no promises, the idea of him working to hide his brother’s crimes felt like a crippling, personal blow.
“Why did you confide in me?” Charlotte asked, her voice dropping to a faint whisper, and not because she was afraid of someone overhearing. She did not want this wariness upon her heart.
“I confessed the truth, Lady Charlotte, because I do not wish another young lady to die like my sister. Viscount Hawley is a powerful and connected man. If you are to escape him, you need every advantage. I hope you can do what my sister and I could not. Bring that monster to justice.”
Chapter Nine
The monkey on Matthew’s shoulder had grown ominously quiet. The little capuchin possessed a temperamental streak, and long periods of silence often presaged temper tantrums. Given that Matthew was currently strolling through Covent Garden, he strongly preferred Banshee not start shrieking. He certainly didn’t want her to leap to the ground and lead him through the twisting, fog-filled alleyways.
