serious.”
The furrows in Delaney’s brow told me he was dead serious. A chill came over me as I felt a moment of doubt. Graham and I had been on opposite sides of a battle in the past. He was not an easy man to deal with when thwarted. But murder? Well, I simply couldn’t imagine it. For one thing, it would require entirely too much effort on his part.
I pressed a finger against my temple as I watched him fold the page, and my secrets, back into the book. “Well, I must say I’ve had far too many shocks for one day. I’ve just learned my friend has been murdered. You announce she may have been a blackmailer. And to top things off, I learn my brother-in-law may be a suspect. I suppose I should be relieved you don’t consider me as one.”
He gave me a wry smile. “I can’t see you committing this crime, no. You shouldn’t worry overmuch about the earl being a suspect either. He’s only one of perhaps a hundred.”
It took a moment for his words to register. “A hundred suspects?” I gave my head a shake in an attempt to clear it. “Are you saying you found more of these potential blackmail notes?”
He stood to take his leave and gave me a stony glare. “I’m saying nothing of the kind, and though I doubt I can keep you from sharing this information with your brother-in-law, I would greatly appreciate it if you would otherwise keep this conversation to yourself.” He released a sigh that spoke of mental exhaustion. “It might take weeks to interview all the suspects, and I would prefer they have no advance warning.”
Good Lord, there were other notes. “How had I misjudged her character to such a degree? Heavens, to think I was trying to make a match between Mary and my cousin.” My shoulders drooped. “Well, no wonder things didn’t work out.”
Delaney, who had been on the point of departure, stopped and turned, regarding me with great forbearance. Oh, dear. I may have just given him suspect number one hundred and one. He lumbered back over to the chair he’d just vacated and sat down. “Lady Harleigh, when I asked how well you knew Mrs. Archer, this is the type of thing you should have told me.”
I chewed on my lower lip, assessing the level of his anger. The inspector possessed a great deal of patience and I had a tendency of putting it to the test now and again. But Cousin Charles seemed an even less likely suspect than Graham. “I suppose you’re right, Inspector, but I was not intentionally withholding evidence. You were speaking of blackmail earlier and that had nothing to do with Mr. Evingdon.” My gaze sharpened. “Unless, of course, you found a note about him, too.”
“I haven’t read them all so it’s possible we have one, but let’s put blackmail aside for now. Perhaps it would be best if you’d just tell me what you know of this Mr. Evingdon and his relationship with Mrs. Archer, so I can decide if he should be considered as a suspect.” He tipped his head to the side. “I’m assuming he did have a relationship with Mrs. Archer?”
It might be for the best, but I’d prefer to tell him nothing. I exhaled a huff of breath to show my indignation, but Delaney only raised his brows in response. Fine. “Charles Evingdon is cousin to my late husband and of course, the current earl. He’s also a friend of Mr. Hazelton.” Delaney knew and respected George, so I was hoping that would be a point in Charles’s favor.
“He’s lately been considering marriage and asked me to introduce him to a suitable lady. Considering his character, personality, and needs, Mary seemed to be a good match. I introduced them a few weeks ago, and to the best of my knowledge, they were simply becoming acquainted with one another. I heard he escorted her to a few events, but whether he was actively courting her, I couldn’t say.”
Delaney retrieved the notebook from his pocket and scribbled a few lines. Lovely. Charles was now a suspect.
“I can also tell you I spoke with him today. He told me he no longer wished to pursue the relationship.”
“Did he now? Any reason for his change of heart?”
How to explain? “In a rambling, roundabout way he told me it would be ungentlemanly to explain their differences. He would only say they didn’t suit.”
Delaney didn’t need to say a word. His expression was that of a miner who’d just discovered a nugget of gold. To his mind, Charles was an excellent suspect for Mary’s murder. I raised a hand to slow his conclusions. “You can’t imagine he murdered her simply because they did not suit, Inspector.”
“Could you have imagined Mrs. Archer blackmailing people, my lady?”
“No, I suppose not,” I said, admitting defeat. “I take it you intend to question him?”
“Unless you’ve recently introduced Mrs. Archer to a more likely suspect, he’s just moved to the top of my list.” Delaney tapped the stubby pencil on the notebook and slipped them both into his pocket.
“I was afraid of that.”
After showing Delaney to the door, I walked back to the empty drawing room, to the card table near the front window. I gazed down at the marquetry pattern of the tabletop, wishing my thoughts were so organized. Or better still that they’d been organized before I’d spoken to Delaney.
“Is he gone?”
I turned sharply as Hetty, Lily, and Lottie slipped into the room, glancing around as if Delaney might be hiding behind a sofa.
“Just,” I replied. We all gravitated to the tea table and seated ourselves on the chintz-covered chairs. Hetty leaned forward eagerly.
“Well?” she said. “Was he here about the murder?”
“Yes. And I’m afraid I may have implicated Cousin Charles in the matter.”
Lottie gasped. “Mr. Evingdon?”
“Goodness, Frances! He’s your cousin,” Lily said.
The two girls gawked at me as if I’d accused one of them of the crime.
“It wasn’t intentional, I assure you. I simply answered his questions.”
Hetty, practical as always, patted my knee then rose to her feet. “You need a drink, dear. Then you must tell us about this conversation.”
While she moved to the drinks cabinet along the wall, Lily and Lottie eyed me with suspicion, waiting for my explanation. Heavens, what part had Delaney told me to keep to myself? The blackmail, wasn’t it? Yes, that and the notes.
“There really isn’t much to tell,” I said. Hetty handed me a snifter with an inch of brandy. I noted she’d brought one for herself as well. I took a sip and as the liquid warmed me, I detailed my conversation with Delaney, at least as it pertained to Charles.
“Dearest, you’ve done nothing wrong,” Hetty said when I’d finished. “Inspector Delaney would have learned about their relationship sooner or later anyway.”
I drew a deep breath. “Do you think so? He seemed rather keen on the idea of Charles as a suspect. In fact, I got the impression he planned to question him almost immediately.”
Lily leaned over the table and squeezed my arm. “I’m sure Aunt Hetty’s right, Franny. Inspector Delaney will question Mr. Evingdon and find him innocent of any wrongdoing. Best to get that out of the way so he can search for the real murderer.”
I
