Had she been a spiteful, vindictive woman, she would have informed every guest at the Holbrooks’ townhouse of Lord Fernall’s illicit affair with Mrs. Forester. Indeed, she would have found more than one biblical quote to support her need to repay him for all pain inflicted.
&n
bsp; “Part of the charade?” she repeated, scrunching her nose in disgust. “Was your father’s death also part of the charade? And what of Andrew, the previous Lord Morford? I know he spoke to you regarding Samuel’s accident.”
“Then you must also know that I have witnesses who can place me in Bath on the night my father died. You, on the other hand, were present in the house.”
“Do you truly believe I killed your father?”
He paused. “No. I believe you were too indifferent to care.”
“That is probably the only honest words to fall from your lips. But I am done arguing with you. I shall return to Highley Grange and remove my personal belongings. When you discover what has happened to my brooch, you may return it to me at the house in Brook Street.” Even if she had to take some form of paid work to pay the rent, she would not be beholden to Henry. “In fact, you may tell me where I can find Mr. Blackwood so I can ask him myself.”
Henry shrugged. “He has lodgings on Gerrard Street above the drapers but he has been rather elusive of late.”
“Elusive?”
“He disappears for a few hours most days, moves about from place to place. It is the reason he works so late into the evening.”
She suspected the reason Mr. Blackwood was still in Henry’s employ stemmed from his ability to organise a haunting. “I expect his talents far outweigh his lazy approach to his duties.”
Henry ignored her comment. “Consider what I said about residing at Grangefields. A few weeks in town might make you change your mind.”
She inclined her head, moved past him. “Oh, before I leave, let me wish you and Mrs. Forester much joy during your frequent stays at the Grange. I pray the house truly is haunted and that your nights there will not be as pleasurable as you hope or imagine.”
Without another word she turned and strode down the corridor towards the ballroom. In leaving Highley Grange, she would be removing one of the shackles that bound her to Henry. It felt quite liberating. The gentleman could not be trusted, although she had never thought him guilty of murder.
Mr. Blackwood, on the hand, certainly had the opportunity.
He had worked for Samuel for three years or more, though she had only met him on a handful of occasions. Judging by the faint hint of suspicion in Henry’s eyes, Mr. Blackwood might be guilty of more than deception.
Theft might have been his motive for murder.
Chapter 17
Tristan waited for Isabella out on the terrace. Three times he had circled the ballroom searching for her. Pushing and jostling with other guests had led to more than a few cross words. He rubbed the back of his neck in a bid to ease the mounting tension. Five more minutes and then he would rip the house apart.
Hearing the sound of footsteps, he glanced up to see Matthew Chandler approaching. “How did you fare?” Tristan asked, although judging by the solemn look on his friend’s face the answer was not very well.
“Oh, you know,” Chandler said with a shrug, “I lost more than I intended.”
Chandler was a man who accepted life’s challenges with good grace, although Tristan believed his friend’s indifference was merely a mask. “Should I race around to your house and hide the pistols?”
“It would take more than a gambling debt to finish me.” Chandler brushed his hand through his hair. “But I am not thinking clearly at the present moment. I sense something is amiss.”
“Amiss? Are you referring to the card game?”
He shrugged. “Perhaps. We shall see if the outcome is as I suspect.” With a quick glance back over his shoulder, he added, “Should I discover there is foul play afoot then those gentlemen will take it in turns to stare down the barrel of my pistol.”
Tristan knew Chandler well enough to know he would not do anything rash. “I shall call on you tomorrow. When you have had a chance to reflect on the night’s events, you can explain your suspicions to me then.”
“Presuming I have not fled the country,” Chandler said in jest.
“Tell me it is not so dire a situation as that.”
“No. But I shall have to increase membership to my private gatherings.”
Tristan breathed a sigh. “With your scandalous reputation, I do not think that will pose too much of a problem.”