As welcomes went, Croyden’s was sorely lacking.
“I’ve come to ask you some questions about your late uncle, Croyden.” Val didn’t bother waiting for the other man to invite him to sit before dropping into an armchair. The fireplace nearby was more decorous than the one downstairs, Val noted.
Eversham, following Val’s lead, took the chair opposite.
“What about my uncle?” the earl said curtly, not bothering to look up from his papers. “He was a drunkard and a rake. And he’s long dead, so I don’t know what you could possibly wish to ask.”
“I’m more interested in his daughter,” Val said, matching the earl’s tone. “Do you know anything about her?”
Croyden finally looked up. “That slut? It should surprise no one that my uncle’s only child grew up to strut on the stage. Her maternal grandmother went to the trouble to place her with a very respectable family, but blood will out.”
“But doesn’t that same blood run in your veins?” Eversham asked thoughtfully. “I should think you’d be a bit more understanding, given the circumstances.”
“My father was the only morally upright member of that family. And I was lucky enough to follow in his footsteps. But Miss Effie Warrington takes after her lowborn mother and my rakehell uncle. For all that he was of noble birth, he never much cared for mixing with people of his own class. A disappointment to his family, make no mistake about that. We would never condescend to such low company; I can assure you.”
If the rest of Croyden’s family shared his winning personality, Val thought, then he could hardly blame the man’s uncle for eschewing them for more pleasant companions.
“Can you tell us if your uncle left Miss Warrington any sort of inheritance in his will?” he asked the earl, watching carefully to see how he reacted.
Croyden’s dark eyes narrowed. “Yes, as it happens. She came to me some weeks ago to ask about it. Of course, I sent her to my solicitor who handles all those matters for me.”
“Why wasn’t she contacted at the time of your uncle’s death?” Eversham asked, his tone much as Val would imagine it if he were questioning a Billingsgate gangster.
“That had nothing to do with me,” Croyden said dismissively. “I had no hand in the way the estate was dispersed. That was up to the solicitors and the trustees.”
“What else did you discuss with Miss Warrington?” Val asked. He didn’t like to admit it, but Croyden was likely correct about contacting the heirs being the duty of the solicitors. Even if he wasn’t responsible for her disappearance, then perhaps whatever else he’d told her might give them a clue to her disappearance.
“I gave her the name of her mother.” The earl had abandoned all pretense of paying attention to the papers before him now, glaring at them in agitation. “She was a local girl in the village who died giving birth to her. Then I sent her on her way.”
“What of Miss Warrington’s maternal grandparents?” Val asked.
“Long dead. They were heartbroken, apparently, by their daughter’s fall from grace and passed not long after her.”
“So, you’re her only living family,” Eversham said. “I should think a man like you, who seems to pride himself on correct behavior, would have been more welcoming.”
Croyden snorted with derision. “I am not her family. She is the illegitimate child of my late uncle. We have no connection. What’s more, by treading the boards, she’s made herself unfit for any sort of aristocratic company. Unless, of course, it’s some noble protector who pays for her favors.”
Val stretched his legs out before him, masking his disgust at the other man’s snobbish sentiments but giving no indication that he planned on leaving. “Are you aware that Miss Warrington was abducted from her own carriage last week?”
He watched the man’s expression very closely to gauge his reaction. But if anything, the earl’s face grew more offended. “Why should I know anything about it? If the silly bitch got on the wrong side of one of her protectors, it’s nothing to do with me.”
Val glanced at Eversham to see what he thought of the man’s story but interpreting the detective’s expression was impossible.
Getting to his feet, Val stepped over to the table where Croyden had spread out his documents. It was difficult to tell without a closer examination, but he thought they looked like legal papers. “Thank you for your assistance. I will ask that if you see Miss Warrington again, you get in touch with me. You may not give a hang what happens to her, but she has friends who don’t wish her to be harmed.”
“I didn’t say I wished harm on her,” the other man said pettishly. “I simply don’t wish her to associate with my family.”
“Yes, that makes all the difference,” Eversham agreed with mock seriousness.
Val and Eversham didn’t speak until they’d retrieved their hats and coats from the decrepit butler and stepped outside.
“I hope that entire house is filled with filthy carvings.” Val cursed. “What a miserable bastard.”
“He’s not the worst I’ve met,” Eversham said, “but he’s certainly near the top of the list. I can’t imagine Miss Warrington would have chosen to see him again willingly if he was as charming to her as he was to us.”
“Nor I.” Val stepped out into the street. “And despite his protestations, I can’t say I believed him overly much. He might have sent her to his solicitor, but did you see how he paused before when I asked about her abduction? He definitely knows something.”
Eversham scowled. “Agreed. I think we need to find this solicitor of his.”
“I promised Caro we’d meet her at your house to tell her and Kate what we learned,” Val said, hoping his tone was casual enough not to raise Eversham’s brows too much. He was a newlywed, after all. He was entitled to indulge his wife as much as he wished.
To his surprise, however, the other man didn’t comment. Only agreed and turned to wave down a hansom cab.
“Aren’t you going to mention something about my being wound round Caro’s little finger?” Val demanded, unable to move beyond his suspicion that the detective was mocking him somehow. Eversham had greatly enjoyed seeing his discomfort after he’d issued that fateful theatre invitation to Caro’s parents, after all.
“My dear fellow.” Eversham clapped him on the shoulder as they waited for the cab to roll to a stop before them. “I know all too well what hell there would be to pay if either one of us was to go off on our own without reporting back to our wives. You might be new to this marriage business, but I am not. I have no wish to spend my night sleeping in the best guest bedchamber.”
“You make a good point,” Val admitted, though he doubted Caro would ever refuse him her bed for such a small mistake. Would she?
He wouldn’t take the chance. After giving the cabbie their intended destination, he added, “An extra pound if you get us there in half the time.”
Chapter Twenty-Two
Caro used her walk to Kate’s house to expend some of her nervous energy.
It really was too unfair that she’d been unable to call upon Lord Croyden with the men, but she had to admit that Val’s reasoning was sound. A man like that would never let down his guard with a woman present.