“That gives him a strong motive for wanting you dead.”
It occurred to him that Dermot Flannery had a motive for murder, too, and things suddenly became far more complicated than a wallflower’s need to steal attention away from her stepmother. And to think he had practically nuzzled the chit’s scrawny neck to gain a confession.
“Not only that,” she began, and Damian wondered if there would be an end to these constant revelations. “My husband was a patron. In exchange for persuading Mr Flannery to wipe his debts, he gave me the house in Bedford Street. A house unentailed, but one previously promised to Joshua.”
Despite this sudden outpouring of facts, something told him the widow still withheld information. “And who inherits should you meet your demise?” The answer might lead them to the culprit.
“Joshua inherits the house in Bedford Street as per my agreement with his father. And for his loyal service, Mr Flannery inherits the club.”
So both men would gain from the widow’s death. If Damian were betting on the guilty, he’d place his odds on Flannery. He had means, motive, the wherewithal to kill a person with his bare hands.
“I know what you’re thinking,” she said, staring him in the eye. He didn’t doubt it. She had a knack for reading his mind. “Mr Flannery is not responsible for the crimes committed against me. My father trusted him, as do I.”
Truly? So why did her actions imply otherwise?
“Then why seek me out when Flannery is the perfect person to act as your protector?” There wasn’t a man in the ton who would cross the Irishman, nor a man in the rookeries based on what Damian had heard. Or were they just fairy stories, too?
“Because Mr Flannery cannot move about in society. Because I do not want anyone to know I am associated with the club.” She paused, a pink blush staining her cheeks. “Because if I told you the real reason I sought you out, where would the fun be in that?”
Curiosity burned in his chest.
“If it is fun you want, Widow, you’ve hired the right man.”
A chuckle escaped her luscious lips. “I did not hire you, Mr Wycliff, but I own your debt until it is repaid.”
He pasted an arrogant smile, but it occurred to him that the owner of The Silver Serpent must hold many men’s vowels. That this task to find the rogue responsible for the attacks might prove impossible.
The carriage rattled to a halt, dragging him from his reverie.
Damian peered out into the night and noted they had arrived in Bedford Street.
“Would you like me to escort you inside?” he said, not because it was part of his role as enquiry agent and protector. Not because he had a reputation for being a man who could seduce most women into bed. But because he cared about her welfare more than he dared to admit. “Perhaps we could both use a drink to lighten the mood.”
A nervous smile played on her lips, similar to the one he’d witnessed on the night in the lodging-house when she had asked to share a bed. “I do not wish to keep you from an evening filled with frivolity.”
“At least permit me to check the house for intruders.”
She shook her head. “There is no need. The locksmith changed the locks, and I dismissed the two staff hired from Mr Truman’s registry.”
An uncomfortable sense of trepidation almost made him insist, but he was not a man who pleaded or begged. “Then shall we continue our conversation tomorrow? I should like to hear of the complicated events that prevented Flannery from collecting you from the seminary.”
Her breathing suddenly came a little quicker, and she drew in a deep breath. “Can we not focus our efforts on persuading Joshua to confess? Perhaps I should hire a runner to track his movements. Equally, Jemima despises me to the depths of her soul. Perhaps she knows more about the situation than we think.”
Damian narrowed his gaze. What was she hiding?
“Yes, we will do all you said, but the Steele siblings are not our only suspects.”
“Mr Flannery is not a suspect.”
“He is a suspect with as much to gain as Joshua Steele,” Damian argued.
“No.”
“No?”
“My father treated him like a brother.”
“Jealousy and rivalry see brothers striking their kin with the speed of a rearing cobra.” The flaw i