“You look familiar,” Jonathon said. “Are you an acquaintance of the Bainbridges?”
“Something like that.” Mr. Armitage bade us goodnight and rejoined his parents.
Jonathon helped me into my coat. “He’s not a friend of Floyd’s, or I’d know. Armitage, Armitage…” He shook his head. “Who is he?”
“He was assistant manager at the hotel until recently.”
His hand paused at my collar. “I see.” It was spoken darkly, as if Mr. Armitage were an ominous cloud one had to keep an eye on at a picnic.
Jonathon led me outside. There was no sign of Mr. Armitage but the Bainbridge carriage waited for me. It would seem I wouldn’t have to murder Flossy after all.
There was onlyone thing to do at this juncture of the case, only one course of action. Just because I didn’t want to take it didn’t mean I wouldn’t. I steeled my nerves and forged ahead to Belgravia to call on Lord and Lady Wrexham.
I was so nervous that I couldn’t eat breakfast. I managed to escape Harmony’s ire for not finishing everything and headed out to Belgravia mid-morning. A lad had set up a shoe-shine stand across the way and was polishing the shoe of a gentleman who sat on the stool, newspaper in hand and cigar in his mouth as if he were in the hotel’s smoking room. The lad must be Peter’s brother.
Instead of trying my luck and knocking at the Wrexham’s townhouse, I waited not far away. I’d brought a newspaper with me as a disguise, of sorts, and pretended to read it, all the while watching the house. I decided not to declare myself to Peter’s brother when his customer departed. If I were seen by the household, I didn’t want the boy to be chased off as well.
Thankfully the rain stayed away. I waited for hours, but my patience was finally rewarded when the carriage with thegreen doors pulled up outside the house. I waited for the townhouse door to open and Lord Wrexham to emerge then crossed the road. He swore upon seeing me.
“A word before you leave, please, my lord.”
“I don’t have time for this.”
“I think you will when you hear what I have to say.”
He thrust his walking stick into my chest, stopping me. “Get out of my way.”
The door opened again and the butler emerged. “You! Leave or I’ll summon the constables.”
“Do it,” I said to Lord Wrexham. “Call the police. I’d be happy to inform them that you are the father of Pearl Westwood’s child.”
Lord Wrexham slowly lowered the walking stick. His gaze did not leave mine, but his expression gave nothing away. I couldn’t tell if he was shocked by the news Pearl had a child or that I knew he was the father.
“Sir! Do you want me to summon a constable?” the butler asked.
Lord Wrexham shook his head. “Leave us.”
The butler seemed reluctant to go, but he didn’t need to be told twice.
Lord Wrexham waited for the door to close before speaking. “What do you want, Miss Fox?”
“The same thing I wanted last time. Answers.”
He stretched his neck out of his collar. “You seem to think I have them. I assure you, I don’t. For instance, I don’t even know if the child is mine.”
“Why would Pearl lie to you?”
“Money.” It was said without pause, but with a great deal of bitterness.
“Is that why she came to you that day after Christmas? She wanted money from you for Millie?”
He stamped the end of the walking stick on the pavement and folded both hands over the head. “Yes. It was the first I’d heard of a child. She said it was born almost four years ago. Her sister has been raising the child.”
“Did she say why she needed themoney now?”
“No.”
“Was she intending to take the child back and raise her as her own?”
