Page 65 of A Rogue at Stonecliffe

“That’s why we want to look at the boxes.”

“You think they have something to do with his death?” Edgerton’s frown deepened. “I don’t see how...” He shook his head as if to clear his thoughts, then turned to Annabeth. “Don’t tell your mother this.”

“She has a right to know,” Annabeth protested.

“She wouldn’t want to know,” Edgerton shot back. “It will only bring up bad memories for Martha. Reopen the wound. She shouldn’t have to go through that all over again.” He held his stepdaughter in a steely gaze. “Let her be. In fact, none of this needs to be brought up at all.”

“Papa was murdered,” Annabeth snapped. “He deserves to have justice done.”

“That’s scarcely any use to him now,” Edgerton retorted. “It’s in the past. It’s done. You will set tongues clacking for no reason. No one will benefit. You should not keep on with this ‘investigation’ of yours.”

“There are other things at stake that are more important than a bit of scandal or bringing up bad memories,” Sloane said, stepping in between Edgerton and Annabeth, as if to shield her. “I have a duty to discover what happened.”

“Duty!” Edgerton spat. “What would you know about duty? You’ve been nothing but a disgrace to your family.”

“You have no right to speak to Sloane that way,” Annabeth said, moving around Sloane to face Edgerton once again. “You have no idea what he’s done, the dangers he’s faced—receiving no credit for it, only contumely from people like you who haven’t any knowledge of the facts.”

“Annabeth...” Sloane murmured, amusement quirking up the corners of his mouth. “There’s no need for you to defend me, no matter how well you play the role. I don’t care what people like this man think of me.”

They were interrupted at that moment by the sound of Lady Edgerton’s voice in the foyer. “Are they here? How delightful.”

Annabeth’s mother sailed into the room. “Annabeth, dearest, what a pleasant surprise. I thought you went to Stonecliffe with Mother.”

“I did.” Annabeth saw no reason to tell her she had immediately left. Even worse would be to say where she was staying now. “I’ve been visiting friends.”

“I wish I had known you were stopping by. We could have gone shopping together.” Martha proceeded to launch into a description of her morning at the modiste’s.

Annabeth smiled and responded, then eased into her reason for being here. “You said you had some of Papa’s boxes that I could look at.” She wasn’t going to tell her mother about Papa’s murder here and now, with Edgerton looking on. She would do it later, when the two of them were alone.

“Yes, of course. I had a maid find them in the attic and bring them down.” Lady Edgerton stood up and went to use the bellpull.

“I’ve been trying to think of other friends of Papa’s who might have some boxes.” Annabeth doubted that her father had left them anything important, but it might be useful to talk to his other acquaintances. “Do you remember anyone who used to visit Papa?”

“Oh, well, he had many friends, but fewer of them came to visit him in the country. We were there more and more toward the end. And most of his set were not the rural sort.” She let out a little rueful laugh. “Nor was I. Of course, dear Russell was frequently at the house. They used to call on each other a good deal.” She nodded at Sloane. “Once or twice your father came to see us. When things weren’t...pleasant for him in the city.”

Sloane grimaced. “When he was rolled up, you mean.”

“Really, Rutherford...” Lord Edgerton objected.

But Martha only smiled. “Exactly. It seemed as if one or the other of those men was always in that state. Hunter, too.” She sighed. “He was never very lucky in his investments.”

Edgerton made a little noise deep in his throat but said nothing.

“Oh, and you came once or twice,” she said to her husband. “Do you remember?”

“Lord Edgerton visited Papa?” Annabeth looked at the man in astonishment. “I thought—I wasn’t aware that you were friends with him, sir.”

Edgerton shifted in his seat. “Mr. Winfield and I were merely acquaintances. However, there was a matter of an inheritance that I needed to see him about.”

“Yes.” Martha nodded. “It was one of his distant relatives, a great-aunt, I believe. What was her name?”

“Mary,” Edgerton said shortly. “It was nothing, really.”

“Yes, Mary. I didn’t remember her, actually, but it was most providential. Poor Hunter had invested heavily in that gold mine that failed, you see, so that inheritance was quite helpful at the time. Sad, of course, but...”

“I don’t remember that,” Annabeth said.

“It was long ago, during the war, and you were quite young. Hunter wouldn’t have mentioned it to you.”