Miss Walker was slouched in a wingchair when they entered. She popped up straight at the sight of them. “Oh, good. Fresh blood. The women here are very dull and don’t want to play any games. Now that you’ve arrived, does anyone want to play Consequences? Charades?”
Lady Mary sighed. “What is it with you and charades? Why are you so eager to make silly pantomimes?”
Miss Walker drew her shoulders back. “It is an amusing activity for house parties. For the right sort of people at least.”
Henry’s gaze was drawn to Miss Smith, and he repressed his smile at her eye roll. She held an empty glass, and her lace fichu had come a bit untucked, exposing a hint of creamy skin above her bosom.
Henry shifted, and dragged his gaze back to her face. He wondered about the lady. She had sounded convincing, but a doubt still lingered in the back of his mind. He was hard-pressed to envision her smuggling a vial of poison into the house and pouring it into Perrin’s wine, but her secret conversations with the secretary still struck him as suspicious.
As if to further his misgivings, Taylor made a straight line to Miss Smith. He stood behind her chair and leaned over to greet her. Giving the man, Henry suspected, a clear view straight down her bodice.
Henry narrowed his eyes.
“Katherine,” her father called as he settled in his own chair. “How about some music? Show me that my money on that piano tutor was well spent.”
“Yes, Father.” Katherine rose and moved to the pianoforte in the corner of the room.
Taylor followed after her, cocking his hip against the instrument as she began to play.
“If Miss Walker is so eager for entertainment, how about a game of whist?” Lady Havenstone suggested. “I know my husband is always ready for a game.”
Miss Walker stood and moved to the gaming table at one end of the room. “Sounds lovely. Mr. Smith, will you make our fourth?”
Smith chuckled. “Not hardly. I’ve never been much for the games of gentlefolk.”
Miss Walker covered her disappointment well. “Mr. Withers? Surely you won’t refuse a lady’s request.”
He pulled a deck of cards from his pocket and shuffled the cards with one hand. One card escaped his control and drifted to the floor. Withers plucked it up, a red stain darkening his face. “I’ll do so if we can play without small talk.” He went to the table and fluffed out the tails of his jacket before sitting.
Miss Smith hit a discordant key, drawing some gazes. She was focused on the sheet music, but her shoulders were curled inward. Mr. Taylor hovered close, ready to turn the page of the song.
Lady Mary caught Henry’s eye. She tilted her head toward the pianoforte while pulling her foot from underneath Southey’s sleeping form.
Henry remained where he stood. He’d done his part for the investigation for the night. On the morrow, they could relay all that they knew to the magistrate and be done with it. No one else seemed to be in danger.
Frowning, Lady Mary again nudged her head in Mr. Taylor’s and Miss Smith’s direction.
Henry grumbled. There was no way to discreetly circle behind them in order to listen in on their conversation, if there was any. He didn’t see the point.
But, as he had little else to do, he made his way to the pair.
With a sharp glance at Henry, Miss Smith muttered to Mr. Taylor, “I’ve told you, I do not wish to marry. I have told my father and others about what happened, and I will tell the magistrate the same. As Perrin was poisoned, I have done nothing to cause me trouble. I thank you, but no.”
Taylor flipped another page over, his movement jerky. “You are making a mistake.”
“Perhaps, but it is mine to make.” Her forehead wrinkled as she played a section of the song that had a particularly quick tempo.
Taylor’s knuckles went white. “What are you doing loitering about, Evans? Can’t you see I’m assisting Miss Smith?”
“It looks more like you are annoying the lady,” he said mildly. “She has given you her answer. Stop pressing the question.”
“You know nothing of what we were speaking.” Taylor straightened, his height still a good three inches shorter than Henry’s own. “You need to mind your own business.”
Henry smiled, but there was no kindness in it. “On the contrary, I know exactly what you were speaking of. And I know what you did.” He didn’t know which was worse, desecrating a body or attempting to pressure Miss Smith into marriage. Both actions were contemptible. And they made it easier to believe the man might also have been the one to kill Lord Perrin.
Taylor’s face went ruddy. “You told him?”
“Keep your voice down.” Miss Smith spared him a quick glare before turning back to the music. “And yes, Mr. Evans is one of the people to whom I confessed my actions. And yours.”
