I had expected my mother to be shocked by this, but instead she gave me a sympathetic look. “Your father had many secrets, my dear. All men do. And in my experience, it is better to let them keep them. For if you go poking around in their hidden places, you may not like what you find.”
Tommy and I left not long afterwards, my mother’s warning echoing in my mind all the way back to Hyde Park Street. Perhaps she had been satisfied having such an arrangement with her husband, but I had never knowingly agreed to one myself. And Oliver had left behind far too many loose ends for me to simply ignore them. When we arrived home, Mrs. Ford reminded me of my earlier promise to take a nap, and I admittedly was feeling the effects of my largely sleepless night. So I took her suggestion, without protest, and retreated upstairs. My head had barely touched the pillow before I fell into a deep sleep.
Chapter 23
Iended up sleeping straight through the night. But I must have needed the rest because when I woke very early the next morning, I felt more refreshed than I had since the night of the murder. I got up with a renewed vigor and immediately readied myself for the day. Tommy was still asleep, but I could hear Mrs. Ford downstairs.
“Good morning,” I said as I entered the breakfast room, where she was laying out the table.
“Good morning, Mrs. Harper. I trust you slept well?”
“Yes,” I replied as I took my seat. “I feel wholly new.”
The housekeeper smiled. “I am glad to hear it. What can I bring you? Porridge? Eggs?”
My stomach rumbled at the suggestions, but I was in a hurry this morning. “I think just tea and toast for now.”
“Of course,” she said with a nod before leaving the room.
As I did not possess Mr. Dorian’s home address, I would need to remedy that first. But the only person in London who I was certain would have that information was Mr. Howard, his publisher and the owner of the villa next to my home on Corfu. He was an infrequent visitor to the island, so Ididn’t know him terribly well, but he was aware of my acquaintance with his star writer, so I felt confident I could procure the information.
Mrs. Ford returned with my breakfast, along with that morning’s post. My eyes widened at the envelope addressed to me, and I tore it open before I even touched my tea. It was from Cecelia:
Dear Minnie,
It was so lovely to see you yesterday, and I hope you will come again. As promised, I asked my husband about the dig and the presence of Lord Linden. As you suspected, he confirmed that his lordship was indeed in attendance that summer. But he also mentioned something else that may be of interest: Apparently Lord Linden and your husband got into a shouting match one evening that nearly came to blows. Unfortunately, Gerry was only a causal observer and did not know all of the particulars, but he suggested it may have had something to do with their opposing views on the ownership of Greek artifacts, which had been a frequent source of conflict between them. Now, I cannot pretend I know much, if anything, about this topic, so it might be best if you speak with Gerry about this directly. You are welcome anytime …
The rest of her words swam before my eyes; my arm fell against my lap, and the letter slipped from my fingers. I was too stunned by what I had learned. Not only had the baron lied about knowing Oliver, but they had had a confrontation that nearly resulted in fisticuffs. My worst suspicions were now all but confirmed. Either Mr. Wentworth was gravelymisremembering the events of that summer, or the baron had a great deal of explaining to do.
I pushed back my chair and stood up. “I need to leave immediately.”
“Is everything all right, Mrs. Harper?”
I turned to Mrs. Ford, who was watching me with a stricken expression. “I have some very important business I must attend to.”
“But you haven’t even eaten yet.”
I wrapped a piece of toast in a cloth napkin. “Tell Tommy I will be back as soon as possible.”
“Yes, of course,” Mrs. Ford said with a grudging nod as I left the room. “Do be careful!” she called at my back, to which I merely raised a hand in reply. For I sought answers, and I would do whatever it took to get them.
“I’m terribly sorry, madame. But, as I said, Mr. Howard is very busy this morning. If you leave your card, I will do my best to schedule a meeting tomorrow afternoon.”
“I don’t need a meeting,” I gritted out. “I just need a moment.”
I had been arguing with Mr. Howard’s secretary for the last few minutes, but the young man was intractable. I could only imagine the desperate writers he had to deal with every day, but the purpose of my visit was very different from what theirs might be.
He let out a short sigh, as if I was very thick, and waved a hand at the bench in the lobby. “You are welcome to wait, but he has absolutely no openings today,” he said firmly.
“Fine,” I said and flounced over to the empty bench.
The secretary cast a withering look at me before pointedly turning back to his typewriter. I had arrived here a little after nine-thirty, and Mr. Howard was already sequestered in a meeting, but I was certain that, once he saw me, he would immediately beckon me into his office. So I would just haveto wait until then. My stomach let out a growl of protest, and I retrieved the piece of toast I had brought with me. I had just taken a bite when the door to the office’s lobby opened, and a gentleman breezed inside.
“Good morning, Deveraux,” he said. “Staying out of trouble, are you?”
I nearly choked on my toast. It was Mr. Dorian. He turned at the sound of my coughing fit, and his mouth dropped open. “Mrs. Harper?”
I couldn’t respond, as I was occupied with trying not to choke, and he hurried over. “Get the lady some water!” he barked at the secretary, who jumped out of his chair and hurried into another room.
