“Did she travel to Windermere with her family?”
Bridget glanced at Nate, who hoped that his slight frown was warning enough for her to realize that she should not say too much. There was no need to risk the villa’s reputation by mentioning that Madam Bouffant was both an actressanda courtesan.
“No. She doesn’t have a family. Her mother died when she was nine, and she never knew her father, at least that is what she told me,” Bridget said.
Magistrate Hunt raised his bushy eyebrows. “No husband or children?”
“Not that I am aware of.” Bridget laced her fingers together, and Nate thought she looked a little nervous. He could tell she wasn’t comfortable with omitting the whole truth.
The magistrate scratched his beard. “That is problematic. She will need to be buried, and someone will have to pay.”
“That’s not a problem.” Nate held up his hand. “The burial will be paid for. Madam Bouffant paid us for a month’s long stay at Villa De Lacey, and since she won’t be able to reap the benefits of her payment, I think the least we can do is pay for her to rest in peace.” This was a lie. Neither Frederick nor Madam Bouffant had been paying guests, but the magistrate didn’t need to know that.
“Very generous of you.” The magistrate nodded at Nate.
Oh, don’t worry. It won’t be me who pays. It’ll be bloody Frederick and Eamont for causing this mess.To the magistrate, he smiled and said, “It’s the least we can do.”
Magistrate Hunt nodded. “I am curious, Miss De Lacey, as to why you thought someone might have pushed the deceased down the stairs. What do you think she was doing out of bed so early in the morning? And I thought it was especially curious that she was wearing an evening dress rather than her night clothes.” He tapped his fingers together. “Something doesn’t seem right. Perhaps foul playwasinvolved. I think I might need to interview your guests after all. What do you say?”
An alarm registered in Nate’s brain. This wouldn’t do. He couldn’t have the magistrate interrogating the guests. No, it was best to tell the magistrate the truth now. “That won’t be necessary, sir,” he said.
“Oh?” Magistrate Hunt’s forehead creased.
“The truth is, magistrate, that Madam Bouffant came here as a companion with one of the gentlemen—a baron.” Nate felt Bridget’s eyes on him. “And, I believe she may have been coming from his chamber. Quite foolishly, she neglected to take a candle with her to light her way. I imagine it’s because she wanted to stay completely hidden. I tell you this in confidence, sir, and I do hope this information will go no further than this room.”
The magistrate’s entire body stiffened. “I see,” he said, crumpling up his notes into a ball. “Then it looks like I have my explanation, and my work here is complete.”
Nate breathed a sigh of relief. Just as he’d expected, the magistrate had lost all interest once he learned the deceased was a mistress and not a lady of society.
Magistrate Hunt stood up, his posture stiff and disapproving.
“Thank you for coming, magistrate,” Bridget said, and she and Nate both stood up. “Do let us accompany you to your carriage.”
“That won’t be necessary, Miss De Lacey.” He put on his top hat and made to go, then hesitated. “I must say, I was delighted when I heard you were turning Villa De Lacey into an inn for wealthy patrons”—he looked from Bridget to Nate—“but I am shocked to learn that you would think to entertain such a woman. Mr. De Lacey would not have approved. And I cannot imagine your aunt does either,” he said, and Nate winced, understanding the deep cut Bridget must have felt upon hearing those words. “I do hope you will be more discerning about the guests you invite to our peaceful area in the future.”
Bridget’s cheeks warmed, and Nate could not let the injustice stand. “She was an unexpected and uninvited guest. The gentleman in question did wrong to bring her. I told him as much. He put us—especially Miss De Lacey and her aunt—in a terribly awkward situation. Miss De Lacey asked them to respect our rules of propriety, but unfortunately, they did not comply. And tragedy resulted.”
“Indeed. Well, let that be a lesson to all.” Magistrate Hunt bowed and bid them good day.
Once the magistrate had gone, Nate turned to Bridget, who appeared ashen. “I hope he didn’t upset you too much. I thought his comments were uncalled for. None of this is your fault.”
“It’s not the magistrate I’m concerned about.” Bridget squeezed the fingers on her right hand.
“Then what’s the matter?”
“I’m afraid we’re doing a grave injustice to Madam Bouffant. If Lady Eamont or someone else pushed her, then—”
“Wait!” Nate put his fingers to his lips, hearing voices emerging nearby. The guests were making their way to the breakfast room. “We should go and join our guests. It’s best to give the impression that everything is handled and returning to normal.”
“But—” Bridget began.
“We’ll talk about this later,” Nate promised. This was neither the time nor the place for such a discussion. The last thing they needed was someone overhearing Bridget accuse Lady Eamont of murder.
*
Bridget expected themood at breakfast to be somber, but she was both surprised and repulsed to discover that the guests filtered into the breakfast room, chatting like it was any other day. They filled their plates with eggs, sausage, and kippers and ate with relish. Lady Eamont seemed especially cheerful, eating with gusto as if she were celebrating Madam Bouffant’s untimely demise.
“I wonder where she was going so early in the morning?” Lady Darby cracked her boiled egg with her teaspoon. “Before the sun had even risen, and without a candle. It’s no wonder she fell down the stairs—silly woman.”
