“Why was she not accused and tried?”
Monroe took another sip of his brandy. “Evidence too thin, the coroner said. No proof he was murdered at all, and none that she was in that forest. Then it turned out he left nothing, was in debt, so any motive fell apart, since I had never found that lover. But I’m telling you that she did it, as sure as I’m sitting here drinking your very fine brandy. Telling you unofficially, of course, and only due to our common profession. I know all about criminal libel and am making no actual accusations.”
“I thank you for all of this. I know it was imparted with the best intentions. Tell me, do you often work out of London?” Chase managed to keep an even tone, despite his silent cursing.
“Never do. I’m here on a family problem. For all the good it will do. Normally I am in the Midlands and such, and the northern cities. Liverpool at times. Manchester. Business inquiries. Financiers and industrial men. It’s more interesting than domestic matters, and for all their ruthlessness, cleaner. They aren’t gentlemen for all their money, but at least you don’t feel like you are pawing through someone’s underclothes.” He began to sip again, then stopped as if a thought had dawned. “One inquiry touched on your family, now that I remember. The last duke.”
“How interesting. You must tell me about it, if it would not be an indiscretion.” Chase rose and retrieved the decanter while he spoke. He refilled Mr. Monroe’s glass, to the man’s surprise and delight.
“I can tell you a bit, since we are colleagues of a sort, I suppose.” He enjoyed the brandy a moment before continuing. “Was up near Manchester. There’s a canal up there and them that own it were thinking of widening it. Only one of the partners would not agree. He said doing so would only benefit factories owned by two other partners, and not bring in enough to pay for the work or show a profit. Well, those two were angry, and one of them had me doing a few inquiries into the partner who stood in the way. Looking for secrets or such. Something that would be embarrassing if it came out. Was the late duke I was trying to learn about. He was the stubborn partner.”
The rogues had wanted to blackmail Uncle Frederick. “Did you learn anything of use?”
“Nah. First, it is hard to do inquiries on a duke. Then, I learned that he didn’t much care what was said about him, so what little I did find would not embarrass him. A taste for whores, for example. Common enough, but there’s those who would be mortified if the whole world knew. Was clear he didn’t hide it at all. I guess being a duke makes it all different.”
“Mostly.”
“I did learn that he would show up wearing costumes. Like he had attended a masquerade. Only he hadn’t. Took me a week to learn that. Wormed it out of a housemaid in his London home that he had a whole wardrobe of such things, and at times wore them in his house too, for no good reason. Even when he was alone.” Flush-faced now, he leaned in confidentially. “I confess I wondered if maybe he was a little mad, when I heard that.”
“Not mad. Only unusual.”
Those balls had taken permanent residence on Monroe’s cheeks above his big smile. He chortled, and firmly put down his glass. “Enough of that, and I thank you. Now I should return to my sister’s house and have some dinner. I am glad you received me, sir. I hope I have done you a good turn, as was my intention.”
“You have. I look forward to returning the favor.” Chase still expected a request for payment of some sort. When it did not come, he felt very cynical.
He accompanied his guest to the door. As the man started down the stairs, Chase asked a final question. “Who had you investigate the last duke?”
Monroe paused. “Well, now, I shouldn’t say.”
“I understand.”
Monroe stood there a minute, then came back to the door. “Excuse me. I’ve remembered that I need to write a quick letter to post when I leave. Do you mind?”
“Not at all. Make use of the writing desk.”
Monroe entered the sitting room, went to a writing desk, and used the pen on a piece of paper that he blotted, folded, and slipped into his frock coat. As he returned to the door, the paper fluttered to the floor.
With an innocent farewell, he went down to the street.
Chase picked up the paper that had “accidentally” been dropped. He read it, then tucked it away in the writing desk.
He looked out the window and watched Monroe walk down the street. Jaw tight, he barely managed to contain his anger with himself.
He had been negligent. With his mission, with his duty—hell, with his honor. He should have made hard inquiries into this mystery woman who inherited so much of the duke’s money. Instead he had engaged in a flirtation with her, and become entangled. He had allowed desire to interfere with learning even the most basic information about her past in a timely manner.
Small wonder Minerva was so cautious with him, and so interested in the duke’s death. Not only her inheritance put her high on the list, but so did her past. If anyone learned she was once suspected of murder—
I know you did not kill him. Hell, right now he didn’t know anything at all.
* * *
Minerva gazed in her looking glass one last time. Huge dark eyes gazed back.
The duke’s invitation to dinner had arrived last week, and she had swallowed any trepidation until this evening. The only solace she found now was knowing Chase would be there, and she would not face this alone. She looked forward to seeing him too. They had been four days apart, as his inquiries kept him busy.
She pretended not to be nervous, but by the time she picked up her reticule she was in a state. Beth stood back and examined her. “That dress is very flattering, and the equal of anything worn by the other ladies that will be there, I’m sure.”
Minerva wore the primrose silk dinner dress that had mysteriously arrived at her house. Upon her writing to Madame Tissot saying there had been a mistake, the modiste had merely written back that her shop did not make mistakes.
Other ladies. Of course there would be some. She had not thought about that, however. Now she wondered how many and who they would be.
Beth pinched her cheeks. “You need a bit of color, that’s all. Get your wits about you now. You are the ladies’ equal too. More than their equal. I doubt a one of them will have done as much as you have in life, or enjoy the freedom you do every day. Who knows, maybe if they learn of your inquiries, we will get clients we can charge very high fees to.”
“Beth, you know just what to say. I will find a way to make sure they do learn of my inquiries. This is a wonderful opportunity, and I intend to do more than eat an incredibly fine meal.”
“Don’t be slighting the eating part. It will probably be the best food you swallow in your entire life. I’ll be wanting all the particulars tomorrow. Every sauce, every savory, every joint—” She sighed. “I can taste it now.”
Minerva went below to wait for the carriage. It would not do to keep a duke waiting. When she heard it in front of her door, she collected herself and stepped out.
Jeremy waited to play footman. So did Elise, to gawk. Her arrival interrupted their conversation and laughter. Jeremy snapped to attention to perform his duties. Elise watched with wide eyes.
She was so distracted by them that she was at the carriage door before she realized how nice a conveyance it was. Not as large as a typical hired coach, it sported green paint and polished brass and the coachman wore a very neat coat and hat. Inside plump cushions in deep red waited.