“ ’Course I would. I notice everything what goes on in this garden.” He leaned closer to me, using the rake for balance. “Can I offer you some nice pole beans, Mrs. Holloway? Just out, sweet as can be.”
I backed up a step. “That would be lovely, thank you. Perhaps you can gather them while I have a word with Mrs. Gamble.”
“Aye, that I’ll do.” Symes touched his hat, gave me another large smile, and walked toward the hothouse, whistling.
I entered the house through the back stairs, but I bypassed the kitchen to climb to the main floor. The servants’ staircase was dark and enclosed, the walls not well finished. Hatches for maintaining the bellpull system and other things were set haphazardly here and there.
As I emerged into the front hall, I stopped a passing maid, who faced me with her duster as though she’d battle me with it.
“Will you tell Lady Cynthia that Mrs. Holloway is here, please? I’ll wait.”
“You should be in the kitchen, missus,” the maid said coldly. “But I’ll go up.”
She turned away and ascended the stairs. I saw what Inspector McGregor meant about being treated as though he were dung on their shoes.
Cynthia skimmed down the stairs a few moments later, her smile canceling the irritation of Harriet and the sourness of the maid. “Glad to see you, Mrs. H. There are storms a-brewing.”
“What sort of storms?” I asked in hushed tones.
Cynthia drew me aside. She wore a light gray frock, slim fitting and simple—I saw Miss Townsend’s influence in the design. “Good old George is threatening to turn everyone out. Says it’s his house now, and Lady Covington and her brood must go. He blames them for his sister’s death. Not that he gave much thought to her when she was alive, Jonathan tells me.”
“Can he do that?” I glanced at the high-ceilinged, hushed, and empty hall. The house exuded all the luxury money could buy, and yet, so much coldness lived here.
“He can, since this house is part of the entail. But whether Lady Covington will stand for it is another matter. Dear George could have his solicitor force them out, but then he’d have to deal with public opinion. Lady Covington is much loved. If George casts a mother and children into the street—even with the children grown—the newspapers will vilify him.” She finished with relish, her blue eyes dancing.
Thinking of Lady Covington’s formidable character, I doubted George would prevail. “Will you ask if Lady Covington will see me?”
“I’m certain she’ll be delighted. Come with me.” Cynthia hooked her arm through mine and strode with me toward the closed double doors of the drawing room.
She opened one door to usher me inside, interrupting a furious and low-voiced conversation between Lady Covington and Jepson, her lady’s maid. Jepson jerked around and glared daggers at me.
Lady Covington rose. Her mourning black made her face wan, the gray in her hair more prominent. She was a woman grown haggard by worry and guilt.
“Good morning, Mrs. Holloway. I was about to send for you.”
Cynthia led me forward, but Jepson stood firmly between us and her ladyship.
Lady Covington sighed. “Jepson is trying to convince me to leave London. I am to go anywhere, she insists; the Continent perhaps. She believes I will be the next victim.”
“A jolly good idea.” Cynthia made a decided nod. “Find someplace with sunshine and put all this behind you.”
I had to agree, but I didn’t trust Jepson. If Lady Covington holed up somewhere in Southern France alone with Jepson, would she survive the retreat?
“She wishes me to go without Harriet and Jonathan.” Lady Covington’s lips tightened. “A thing I cannot do. They need me.”
“If they put a dollop of poison into your breakfast tea, it won’t matter, will it?” Jepson demanded.
“I will not flee, and I will not hide. The solution is to find out who is doing this and stop them. Do you not agree, Mrs. Holloway?”
“I do,” I had to say. “May I speak openly, your ladyship?”
Lady Covington waved a thin hand at me. Though she resumed her chair, she remained upright on it, her back ramrod straight. “You may leave us, Jepson.”
“Not likely.” Jepson firmed her jaw and faced me. “If she stays, I do. I don’t trust this cook.”
“It doesn’t matter,” Lady Covington said wearily. “What did you wish to say, Mrs. Holloway?”
I began as delicately as I could. “That as long as your children are fully dependent on you, and his lordship fears to make a decision without you, you might be in danger. If your family felt more freedom to decide their own fate—”
Lady Covington cut me off with a snort. “If you are ever gifted with children, Mrs. Holloway, and you too, Cynthia, you will understand. I wish my children’s lives to be comfortable and prosperous, believe me. But if I loosen the reins on Harriet, she will throw herself at a poor nobody who will take her to live in wretched rooms in some run-down house. How do you believe she will fare? Within a year, she will be back here, her marriage in ruins, and no more prospects for a better one. I love Jonathan dearly—he is a good boy—but I am not a fool. He gives money away, helping his friends mostly, but his generosity will be his downfall.”
Jepson stared at her in disbelief. “Helping his friends? I beg your pardon, my lady, for speaking out of turn, but he gambles that money away. In the clubs and at the racing meets.”
“Gossip.” Lady Covington’s voice turned hard. “I thought you of all people would know better than to listen to it, Jepson. His friends are softheaded with money and get themselves into trouble, time and again. Jonathan is too kind to them.”
I recalled the cook’s assessment of Jonathan and rather agreed with Jepson. I loved Grace dearly, but I hoped I would not be so blinded if she suddenly turned into a reckless young woman who got herself into gambling scrapes.
“As for George.” Lady Covington looked exasperated. “Giving him his head would be the worst thing I could do. He has no idea how to run a business. Thank heavens there are a few others on the board with sense. Even Mr. Amos, the secretary Harriet is potty about, is far wiser than George.”
“Perhaps Mr. Amos should be given more to do,” I suggested gently. “If he is an intelligent young man, if he had more say in the company . . . I have no idea how railways are run, but he might go far if you let him.”
“Excellent idea,” Cynthia agreed. “If you’re not careful, Harriet will elope with this fellow. Nothing makes a gentleman more enticing than a parent telling her he’s unsuitable.” She spoke with the great confidence of one who’d never, ever fall for an unsuitable gentleman.