closed he glanced up at me, a scowl on his face. “Before you say it, I know I was rude. Hazelton’s trying to save my worthless neck, and I snapped at him.”
“I’d never call your neck worthless, but I agree with you otherwise. Why did you snap at him?”
He dropped the stack of paper into his lap. “He’s taking risks on my behalf while I am stuck here reading gossip.”
“He can hardly take you with him while Delaney still suspects you. You shouldn’t take offense.”
“I’m not taking offense. Hazelton is one of a very small group of people who don’t consider me a fool. He’s a good friend and I’m grateful for his help. I simply hate being in the position of needing it.”
“He’s helping because he knows you didn’t murder Mary.”
“Only because he doesn’t think I have the brains for it.”
My cheeks grew warm. That sounded closer to my opinion. I placed a hand on his arm. “You just said yourself he doesn’t consider you a fool. He simply knows you wouldn’t do such a thing. As for being in your present position”—I shrugged—“for that you must blame me. I should have stayed out of your affairs and let you find a lady to court on your own.”
“Come now, Cousin Frances, I asked for your help.” He gave me a crooked smile. “And I did like Mrs. Archer. She was charming, lovely. I just can’t reconcile that woman with someone who’d commit blackmail.”
He rubbed a hand across his cheek. “And on that subject, how is your stack progressing? Anything blackmail-worthy?”
“As you are well aware, I haven’t progressed past the first page.”
He leafed through his pages. “I seem to have nothing more than gossip here. Some of it common knowledge, even to me.” He held up a page to read. “ ‘Miss Leticia Stuart has chosen a rather unique way of refusing her suitor. While in private consultation with Mr. Frederick Thornton in her family’s garden, she pushed him into the fountain. Did the cold bath cool his ardor or will the gentleman return to request the hand of this saucy miss again?’ ”
I raised my brows. “Frederick Thornton. I’d have given him a dunking myself. Humorous, I suppose, but I doubt anyone would pay good money to keep that quiet. What else do you have?”
“Another damp story.” He shuffled through a few pages on top of his stack and pulled one out. “‘ In an attempt at gallantry, Clifford Worthington leapt from his carriage to rescue a lady’s hat from certain destruction as it blew along the path toward the serpentine. He managed to save the hat but not himself. The hapless gentleman tripped over a rock and dove straight into the water himself.’ ”
“Goodness, I am familiar with that story.” I frowned, trying to bring the details to mind. “Oh, yes. It was very embarrassing. Mr. Worthington is the father of my late sister-in-law. I can’t imagine what possessed him to attempt such a silly feat. The man is approaching sixty and quite stout. I wasn’t the only one laughing at the image of him running to catch up with the blowing hat.”
I couldn’t contain a smile at the thought. “Mrs. Worthington was furious. But that story was the buzz of town several months ago. If Mary had hoped to blackmail the man over this little on-dit, she left it too late.”
He waved a hand at the file. “So far everything I’ve read has been of this nature, a bit salacious or embarrassing, but generally well known.”
“Strange.” I dug a little deeper into my stack and pulled out a page with a story I could easily decipher. “Here is something I’m sure His Grace, the Duke of Manchester, would wish to keep quiet. It links him to M.A. and whoever she is, he would never want Miss Zimmerman to hear about it. Though, for my part, I think somebody should inform her of what a scoundrel he is. He’s only chasing after her money.”
Charles leaned his head against the back of the chair and stared up at the ceiling. “Yes, he’s only ever interested in women with money. This other woman is probably just a flirtation.”
“I doubt that would make a difference to Miss Zimmerman if she found out. It would still be an insult to her.”
“Why would he do it then? Do you think the story’s true?”
I gave him a one-shoulder shrug. “It’s believable, I’ll say that much. He can’t seem to help himself. He must marry money, but he can’t resist female attention.” I turned my gaze back to the file, but he wasn’t finished with the subject of the young duke.
“How do you know he must marry money?” He leaned forward to reach a bowl of fruit on the desk. I waved him off when he offered it to me and watched him choose an apple for himself.
“I suppose because he doesn’t hide the fact that he has little, if any, money of his own.” A little warning bell sounded in my head. Something was inconsistent here. I frowned at Charles who stared, his eyes wide and innocent. “He has no money,” I said. “In fact, he is likely deeply in debt. How could he pay a blackmailer?”
“Well, I don’t suppose he could. One does need money to pay a blackmailer. Or for anything else for that matter. One can’t pay for anything if one has no money. Terrible situation to be in.”
I held up a hand to stop him so I could think. “Manchester couldn’t afford to pay blackmail, so why would Mary even bother?”
“Would she know that?” He sunk his teeth into the apple with a loud crunch.
“I rather think so. It’s common knowledge.” I scanned the note again. “She’d be wasting her time blackmailing him.”
“Maybe she didn’t. She wasn’t one to waste her time.”
“Then why keep the note? Why take note of it in the first place?” I waved a hand toward his file. “Why gather any of that useless gossip?”
Charles had a mouthful of apple and held up a finger for me to wait. Since I didn’t really believe he had an answer, I posed another rhetorical question. “How did she come by all this information?”
This time he merely raised his shoulders. “No idea,” he said from the corner of his mouth.
“Well, at this point I can’t see Manchester as a likely suspect but I suppose I should place him in the possible stack.”
“Have you found any likely suspects?”
I gave him a scowl. “You’ve been next to me this whole time, Charles. You know I’ve read only two notes. The first page, yes. The second, doubtful. Why?”
He unfolded himself and rose to his feet. Stepping over to the fireplace, he tossed his apple core onto the grate. As it was unlikely George would have a fire in that grate for the next month or two, it was probably not the best place for food detritus, but I held my tongue.
He turned to face me. “I just keep wondering if Mrs. Archer was really blackmailing anyone.” He gestured to the file he’d left on the chair. “I’ve seen nothing in that file but gossip, most of it well known. I’ve even heard it before.” He waved a hand in my direction. “You’ve found one possibility and another that’s completely impossible. A blackmailer isn’t going to bother with an impoverished peer.”
“What
