here about Mrs. Archer.”
“I can’t imagine why he would come to me on that account.” I took a step toward the drawing room and stopped as all three of my companions crowded behind me. “Inspector Delaney asked to see me and I’m quite capable of speaking to him on my own.” I turned to Mrs. Thompson. “Please have Jenny bring in tea.”
Hetty appeared ready to argue but backed down as I raised my brows. “Fine. We’ll wait for you in the library.”
I opened the door to the drawing room and stepped inside, no more eager to speak to the inspector than Mrs. Thompson had been. Like Hetty, I wondered if his visit had anything to do with Mary’s murder.
He was seated in one of the wingback chairs by the window and stood as I walked toward him, extending my hand in greeting. Heavens, if I wasn’t struck with an odd wave of affection for the man. To say he’d been kind to me in our past encounters would be a great breach of the truth. He’d been gruff and domineering, but he’d also provided me with a sense of almost parental security, though he was only perhaps a dozen years older than myself.
I noted he wore a new, shapeless suit, this one in a dark shade of gray. Delaney was a tall man, so the lack of cut made him appear rather lanky. His complexion was a warmer hue than I remembered, as if he’d just had a holiday in the sun, and his brown-gray hair and eyebrows, as usual, had a life all their own.
He returned my welcome with a warm smile, hinting that he recalled me with some affection as well.
“Inspector Delaney,” I said, leading him to a conversational grouping of sofa and chairs around the tea table. “May I offer you some refreshment?”
“A cup of tea would be most welcome, my lady.” He waited for me to choose a seat before folding himself into the chair next to mine.
“Excellent. It should be here momentarily. In the meantime, tell me, how have you been faring? Has the newest Delaney made his appearance yet?”
A smile broke across his face like a sunrise, crinkling the eyes beneath those bushy brows. “She arrived about a month ago,” he said. “After two boys, my wife was hoping for a girl this time and I’ve never seen her happier.”
It appeared to me his wife was not the only one. “My congratulations, Inspector. My own daughter has brought me nothing but joy. I hope the same is true for you.”
A knock at the door warned of Jenny, my housemaid, entering with our tea. I had bribed Jenny away from my brother-in-law’s household when I moved to Belgravia. A buxom, sweet-natured, country girl with more intellect and curiosity than I’d first given her credit for. After placing the tray on the table, she reached for the pot, as if to serve us. I could tell she was hoping to pick up a bit of gossip.
“Thank you, Jenny,” I said firmly. “I’ll take care of this.”
With a bob of her head, she slipped out of the room and I poured Delaney a cup, waiting for him to tell me why he’d called.
It didn’t take long. “Are you acquainted with Mrs. Mary Archer, ma’am?” Delaney asked, leaning forward to place his cup on the table.
My teacup rattled on its saucer and a tiny amount of the dark liquid slipped over the side. I quickly placed it on the table. “So, you are here about Mary. Yes, I am acquainted with her, and I must confess, we read of her death just a few moments ago. Is it true she was murdered?”
“I’m sorry to say she was, ma’am.” Delaney flashed me a warning look. I wasn’t sure I wanted any of the details of her murder, but he made it clear there’d be no point in asking for them. I waited, assuming he’d get to the point, eventually.
“How well did you know her?”
“We were friends,” I said, surprised by the intensity of his gaze. “In a social way. We attended the same events, met occasionally at mutual friends’ homes for a salon or afternoon tea.”
“Forgive me, Lady Harleigh, but you were visibly shaken when I mentioned her name. Are you certain you didn’t have more than a nodding acquaintance?”
“Heavens, Inspector, of course I was shaken. I suppose because I’d just heard of her death and had not really absorbed it yet. The murder of a friend, whether close or not, comes as a shock to me. Indeed, we had more than a nodding acquaintance. Over the course of several years, I’ve come to think of her quite highly, but I’d still not say we were close friends.”
He leaned forward in his seat, sliding to the edge of the chair. “So, if you needed someone to confide in, share your troubles with, you would not have turned to Mrs. Archer?”
I blinked. “No, we were certainly not that close.”
Delaney reached into his pocket and removed a small notebook, which he seemed to carry at all times. From the notebook he removed a folded sheet of paper. Reaching across the table he handed it to me. “Any idea how she might have come by this information?”
Curious, I took the sheet, noting the elegant writing as I first scanned the contents, then gave it a second, more thorough reading. I dropped my hand to my lap, the paper still tucked in my fingers, while my other hand drifted up to my mouth, seemingly of its own volition, likely for the purpose of containing the foul curses trembling on my tongue.
The note contained a complete summary of what I referred to as the battle of my bank account. A bitter and hard-fought battle with my brother-in-law, Graham, the Earl of Harleigh. We eventually forged a truce and Graham withdrew his suit, but the matter was of such a personal nature only my immediate family and two close friends knew of it—well, and Inspector Delaney. I lifted my gaze to find him observing me closely. “This was in Mary’s possession? However did she learn of it?”
“You never told her about this dispute?”
“Of course not.”
“Is there any chance that the earl did, or perhaps his late wife might have done so?”
I would have dismissed the idea but Delaney’s penetrating stare forced me to give it some consideration. “Obviously I couldn’t say for certain, but I can’t imagine either of them sharing this information with her, or anyone else. It does not reflect well on them. I should think they’d be even more careful than I to ensure no one heard of it.”
“That’s rather what I thought.” He let out a weary breath. “Would the earl have been careful enough to pay Mrs. Archer for her silence on the matter?”
I leaned back as if I could distance myself from such a distasteful implication. “Are you suggesting blackmail? I can’t believe Mary would do such a thing.” I glanced down at the paper in my hands, assailed by confusion. How had she come by this information, and why would she document it? Perhaps the inspector was correct in his assumption.
Delaney tapped his pencil against the open page of his book, waiting for an answer. Had Mary committed blackmail and been murdered for her effort? Heavens, he wasn’t here to tell me of her murder; he was investigating it. I drew a breath, releasing it with a shudder. “She never approached me with the threat of exposure. Graham is a grieving widower.” I raised my hands in confusion. “No one with any decency would threaten someone in that state.”
Delaney reached out for the note. Much as I wanted to burn it, I handed it back. I suppose he’d need it as evidence.
