“What’s he doing here?”
“Calling on me.”
“Why?”
I didn’t want to tell him about the investigation, but if I didn’t, I would have to come up with an excuse as to why Mr. Armitage was visiting me. And I could think of nothing that would meet with Uncle Ronald’s approval. “He’s assisting me with an investigation I’m conducting on behalf of Lord Rumford.”
His nostrils flared. “Why wasn’t I informed about this?”
“It has nothing to do with you. Sir,” I added for good measure.
“It has everything to do with me! Rumford is a guest inmyhotel.”
This was going to require all the patience I possessed and as much diplomacy as I could muster. But at least I was prepared with an answer. “I heard his lordship express his doubts about the verdict into Miss Westwood’s death. He didn’t believe she killed herself and suspects she was murdered. He wanted someone to look into it so I offered since I have experience in such matters.”
“Experience! Stumbling over some clues and almost getting yourself killed does not give you experience in investigative techniques.” He’d expelled a considerable breath along with his words so by the time he finished, his face was quite red. His chest expanded like a bellows as he refilled his lungs.
I chose to ignore his insult and focus on something that would get him to calm down rather than anger him further. “Lord Rumford was very grateful that someone was prepared to take on the case.”
Uncle Ronald drew in another deep breath, somewhat mollified. Lord Rumford was a very important guest and my uncle would never deny a guest anything. The Mayfair’s reputation for servicing the needs of guests was legendary. He couldn’t very well order me to stop investigating if Lord Rumford had expressly asked me to. I was immensely glad I was able to keep Mr. Hobart’s name out of it—and Harmony’s.
“I promised his lordship I’d be discreet, of course,” I assured him. “Neither his name nor mine will be attached to any scandal or to the solving of the case, if I am able to solve it.”
“See that it doesn’t.” He jutted his chin towards Mr. Armitage. “Why do you needhishelp?”
“I’m sorry, I’m afraid I can’t tell you.”
He glanced sharply at me.
“The promise I made Lord Rumford about discretion means I can’t tell even you what paths I’m pursuing. I am sorry, Uncle. If it weren’t for his lordship, I would have told you everything from the beginning.”
He grunted but seemed to believe me. “He can’t stay out here.”
“We were just about to go into the sitting room.”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“Cleo, I know you have a kind heart and feel sorry for him, but you must remember he’s a former employee. Thereare lines that cannot be crossed, particularly in front of the guests. Imagine how it would look if that man was sipping tea with my niece in the sitting room of the hotel where he used to work.”
I bit my tongue. How things looked to the guests mattered to my uncle. I’d learned that very quickly. But I couldn’t bring myself to give verbal acquiescence to his order so I simply gave a curt nod. “Is that all, Uncle?”
He eyed Mr. Armitage, who eyed him right back, unperturbed. “For now.”
He slapped his hat on his head and strode off, his footsteps loud on the tiles.
I rejoined Mr. Armitage and Peter. “Now, where were we?” I said cheerfully.
Mr. Armitage frowned. “You don’t have to order Goliath to throw me out?”
“Of course not. My uncle is perfectly fine with your presence here in the hotel.”
He smiled. “Excellent. Shall we talk over tea in the sitting room?”
My face fell.
Mr. Armitage’s smile turned cynical. “I didn’t think so.”
