He bent his head, flooding her nostrils with the alluring scent of his cologne. “If we’re to believe Bellham’s parting words, someone in this house is capable of murder. We must be vigilant. Together, we must hunt for clues to assist the magistrate in bringing the culprit to justice.”
Feverish anticipation raced through her veins. “But the only other gentleman in attendance is Lord Flanders, and he was with us in West Chisenbury.”
Lord Denham looked her keenly in the eyes. Heaven help her, he was dreadfully handsome. “You forget that Lord Northcott arrived this evening. Perhaps he had a gripe with Bertie, and he’s to blame. Perhaps there’s a more terrifying explanation.”
“Such as?”
“A lady committed this dreadful crime.”
“This is not the time for hysterics,” Lara said calmly to Miss Mason-Jones. With a flick of the eyes, she gestured for Lord Flanders to comfort the lady weeping in the dining chair on his left. She glanced at the other guests’ morbid faces as they stared aimlessly into their soup. “No doubt Mr Bellham came across footpads desperate to relieve him of his purse. Indeed, we have every reason to believe they stole his horse.”
Having made a pact with Lord Denham that neither would reveal Mr Bellham’s final mutterings, they had agreed upon expressing the opinion that thieves were to blame. Should the culprit learn of their suspicions, heaven knows what he or she might do. Besides, if the earl understood that lies were sometimes necessary, when Montague arrived, he might be more understanding of her plight.
“Are footpads common in these parts?” Miss Venables said, offering her companion, Miss Harper, use of her handkerchief. “Only a desperate man would attack a gentleman at the gates of such a grand house as this.?
?
Lara had learned from Lord Denham that Miss Venables was a gentleman’s daughter who had fallen on hard times after her father’s death. Paid companions were often middle-aged spinsters with wisdom and moral compass. Miss Venables was no older than five and twenty. Her vibrant red hair and coy smile marked her as a willing counterpart for a lady out to cause mischief.
“Unless Bertie was attacked further along the road and made an attempt to find help,” Viscount Northcott said, pushing a lock of black hair from his brow. The lord bore the same arrogant air as his sister. One look at the mischievous twinkle in the peer’s eye and Montague would label him a rake. “He might have crawled to the gate.”
“Oh, Lord!” Miss Mason-Jones continued to blubber.
Lara cast Lord Denham a sidelong glance as he sat quietly observing his guests’ reactions. Beyond his devilishly good looks, she found an intelligent man with an impressive ability to command a room. His broad shoulders conveyed a strength of character as well as a muscular physique. He looked masculine and masterful yet had a wicked glint in his eyes that hinted at a playful side, too.
“Bellham did not crawl anywhere. He was killed at the gate.” Lord Denham snatched his wine glass and sipped his claret while continuing to study the faces of those seated around the table. “The advantage of snow is that you can follow a blood trail.”
“Must we talk about the gruesome details during dinner?” Lady Denham complained. “The coroner and Sir Ellis will arrive at the earliest convenience, and then they may deal with the matter. The soup will be cold if we wait a moment longer.” She flicked her fingers at Miss Pardue. “Eat. Let us worry about this dreadful business later.”
“The guests should be aware that it’s not safe to leave the house, Mother. Not until the culprit is apprehended.” The earl’s signet ring clinked against the crystal glass causing everyone to look up, some with their soup spoons a mere inch from their mouths. “Indeed, it is better I take notes regarding our whereabouts at the time of the crime. Sir Ellis has a way of making the innocent appear guilty, and I would assure him no one in this room witnessed anything untoward.”
He spoke with such authority Lady Denham simply sighed in response. If the earl was able to overrule his mother’s opinion so easily, why had he not been honest about this organised marriage mart? Perhaps he’d been secretly hoping one of the ladies would impress him.
“Lord Denham is right,” Miss Pardue said. While petite in frame and stature, her rigid jaw conveyed a steely determination. “He must make no allowances for our sex. We must answer his questions openly and honestly for I doubt anyone will recall their mundane comings and goings once the magistrate arrives.” She turned her attention to Lord Denham. “In the interests of those ladies with weak constitutions, might I enquire what you did with poor Mr Bellham’s body?”
The comment tore another heart-wrenching sob from Miss Mason-Jones.
Miss Harper harrumphed. “I take umbrage at the suggestion I am somewhat lacking. In my opinion, anyone who dismisses the advantages of their sex is three pence short of a shilling.”
“Oh, please don’t argue,” Miss Mason-Jones blurted into her handkerchief. “Think of Mr Bellham outside in the cold.”
Lara glanced at the earl, whose curt nod, it was agreed, was a cue for her to reveal certain information. “Mr Bellham has been moved indoors and treated with the utmost respect, I can assure you.”
Miss Venables arched a brow at the news and whispered in Miss Harper’s ear.
“And how is it you know so much about this accursed murder, Miss Bennett?” Miss Harper said, extending her claws.
“The fact you have forgotten about my journey to West Chisenbury highlights Lord Denham’s need to account for everyone’s movements these last two hours.”
Lord Flanders raised his hand like a boy in the schoolroom. “I bear witness to the fact that Miss Bennett and Lord Denham rode to West Chisenbury. Had it not been for Miss Bennett locating a shovel, we might not have cleared the dreaded snow from my new carriage.”
Miss Pardue clapped her hands. “Bravo, Miss Bennett. It goes to prove that some ladies are just as resourceful as men.”
Viscount Northcott’s mocking snort echoed through the room. “Then why do we not see a chit commanding the cavalry? Indeed, what do you do, Miss Pardue, that might be scratched into the history books of men?”
Miss Pardue lifted her chin. “What I would do and what I am permitted to do are worlds apart, my lord.”
A smirk equal to her employer’s ugly grin played on Miss Venables’ lips. She whispered to Miss Harper again, and both ladies fought to suppress a chuckle.