Late for the Wedding (13 page)

Lavinia and Tobias, however, were not so certain. There were rumors in certain quarters of the underworld that the clandestine operations of the Chamber were now under new management. And the only person around who appeared to be capable of running such an extensive enterprise was Joan.

Lavinia had no intention of asking Joan if the gossip was true. It was, she reflected, one of those questions one did not ask if one could avoid it.

On the other hand, it was difficult not to notice that, now that she had emerged from mourning, Joan exhibited a decided preference for a particular shade of blue. Her fashionable gowns and many of the gemstones she wore could best be described as
azure
in color.

Azure
had been Fielding Dove’s secret title during the years when he controlled the Blue Chamber.

“Mrs. Lake, madam.” The butler glanced at the silver tea tray. “Shall I fetch another cup?”

“That won’t be necessary, thank you, Pugh,” Joan said quietly. “Maryanne declined to take any while she was here. Mrs. Lake can use her cup.”

“Yes, madam.” Pugh bowed himself out of the drawing room and closed the door.

“Please be seated, Lavinia.” Joan’s smile was warm but tinged with a wan, unhappy quality. “I am delighted to see you, but I must admit this visit comes as a surprise. What happened in the country?”

“There were some complications.” Lavinia sank down onto one of the chairs and studied Joan’s drawn features with concern. “Are you feeling ill? I do not want to impose. Perhaps it would be best if I came back later?”

“No, this is an excellent time.” Joan seated herself on the sofa and reached for the teapot on the heavily worked silver tray. “I have just concluded a most unpleasant conversation with my daughter, and I am badly in need of a distraction.”

“I see.” Lavinia took the cup and saucer Joan handed to her. “Well, as it happens, I have one for you.”

“Excellent.” Joan picked up her own cup and looked at Lavinia with a determined anticipation. “May I assume that Lake and March has taken on a new case and that it is connected to the rather sudden death of Lord Fullerton?”

Lavinia smiled. “I never cease to be astonished by the manner in which you are always conversant with the latest news.”

“I daresay that word of Fullerton’s fall from Beaumont’s roof reached London before you did. And the fact that Vale got his carriage back somewhat sooner than planned told us both that you and Mr. March were likely involved in the matter.”

“Yes, of course.”

Joan gave her a sympathetic smile. “I am so sorry that your visit to the country was cut short.” She paused delicately. “I don’t suppose that you and Mr. March had much opportunity to, mmm, enjoy some private moments communing with nature before the disaster occurred?”

“Fullerton managed to plummet straight past my window in the course of one of the few private moments Mr. March and I were able to share.” Lavinia shuddered at the memory and took a breath. “He screamed, Joan.”

“I presume you do not refer to Mr. March.”

“I cannot envision Tobias screaming at the sight of the gates of hell, let alone in surprise at a body falling past a window. No, it was Fullerton who shrieked, and it was a most bloodcurdling sound, I assure you.”

“I can well imagine.” Joan sipped her tea and lowered her cup. “And you immediately suspected murder most foul.”

“It was impossible to avoid that conclusion. In any event, we found proof shortly thereafter.”

She gave Joan a quick summary of events. When she concluded her tale, Joan studied her with an expression of grave concern.

“This is not merely another case, is it?” she asked.

“No.” Lavinia set her cup down with great care. “I will be honest with you. Tobias thinks that the business with the memento-mori ring implies that this new murderer has issued a challenge, that he or she is playing out some deadly game. But I fear that the villain’s real goal may be revenge.”

“Against Mrs. Gray or Mr. March?”

Lavinia shrugged. “Perhaps both. But in truth, I am most anxious about Tobias’s safety.”

Joan raised her brows. “I collect that you are not overly fond of your new client?”

“Mrs. Gray is very beautiful. She is also a woman of the world. My intuition tells me that she would not scruple to use her wiles to manipulate a man if she thought the tactic would prove effective.”

Joan’s mouth curved upward at the corners. “I very much doubt that such a strategy would work with Mr. March. It has been my observation that he and Vale have a great deal in common. One of the attributes they share is a remarkable degree of sound judgment. Neither would be easily deceived by a beautiful face or an alluring manner.”

“I am aware of that, but the thing is, Tobias feels some responsibility for what happened in the past. He blames himself for having set Zachary Elland on the path that eventually led to his undertaking a career as a professional murderer.”

“That is absurd.”

“Yes, of course it is.” Lavinia spread her hands, relieved to be able to confide her deepest fears about the case. “I explained that to him in no uncertain terms.”

“Yes, I’m sure you did. You are seldom reluctant to give Mr. March the benefit of your opinion. But in this matter, I collect that he was unwilling to accept your view?”

“Unfortunately, when it comes to taking responsibility for events in which he was involved, Tobias is inclined to err on the side of assuming that he should have been in complete control of matters.”

Joan nodded sagely. “That is a fault that I have observed in Vale as well. In my experience, men of their sort frequently blame themselves when things go wrong, even if there was nothing they could have done to alter the course of events. Fielding had the same habit. I suspect that inclination is a character trait that goes hand in hand with great strength of will and purpose.”

“Tobias also blames himself for not realizing sooner that Elland had become a professional murderer.”

“It is often most difficult to see evil in those whom we believe we know well.”

“Very true,” Lavinia said. “Well, that is the whole of the tale, or at least as much as we know at this point. As you can see, the only way out of this tangle is to find the killer.”

“And to that end, you seek to discover who benefited most from Fullerton’s death.”

“I came to you for advice on the subject because you have excellent connections in Society.”

“Let me think a moment. There is no doubt that Fullerton’s nephew will benefit directly. But as I recall, the young man is quite wealthy in his own right and about to marry an heiress. He will also acquire a more elevated title when his father dies. I see no strong motive in that quarter.”

“I agree.” Lavinia was reluctant to let go of that theory, but she had to admit it did not hold much promise. “Can you think of anything else that will be significantly changed because of Fullerton’s death?”

Joan tapped her fingertip against the side of her cup. “Obviously Lord Fullerton will no longer be going through with his wedding plans, which means that the Panfield girl will be back on the marriage mart next Season. I can only imagine that her mama and papa are feeling quite downcast at the moment. It is common knowledge that Panfield is fishing for a title for his daughter.”

Lavinia contemplated that angle for a moment. “What about the girl herself? Was she equally enthusiastic about the marriage to Fullerton?”

“I have no idea how she felt about the situation. She is quite young and of course had very little to say in the matter. But I cannot imagine that a fat, aging baron was the romantic hero of her dreams.”

“Hmm.”

Joan looked amused. “I think you can forget the notion that the girl could have arranged such a drastic means of ridding herself of an unwelcome fiancé. I doubt very much that an innocent young lady just out of the schoolroom could have secured the services of a professional murderer, let alone found a way to pay him.”

“I take your point,” Lavinia said. “Well, then, what about the
true
romantic hero of her dreams?”

“I beg your pardon?”

“Is there perhaps some young gentleman who is passionately in love with Miss Panfield and who might have concocted a scheme to get Fullerton out of his way?”

Joan considered for a moment. “Not that I am aware of, but I admit that I have not paid much attention.”

They drank tea together in a companionable silence for a while.

“I wonder what sort of temperament is required to make a person contemplate hiring a murderer,” Lavinia said finally.

“Presumably one with a great capacity for overwhelming greed or ambition.”

“Or perhaps one that is capable of harboring a deep rage,” Lavinia said slowly. “Can you think of anyone who would have had a reason to hate Fullerton so intensely?”

“Not offhand, although I suppose any man of his age might have acquired some enemies along the way.” Joan looked intrigued. “Do you want me to make some inquiries in that direction?”

“I would be very grateful if you would do that. There is no time to waste and we must pursue every avenue. This entire affair is so extremely muddled. We do not even know if Fullerton is the killer’s first victim.”

Joan’s cup paused halfway to her lips. Her eyes narrowed faintly. “Do you have reason to suspect that there may have been others?”

“It’s possible. We simply do not know.” Restless and frustrated, Lavinia rose and went to examine the large golden chrysanthemums in the nearest vase. “Can you think of any other recent unexpected or unexplained deaths in Society?”

Joan pursed her lips. “Apsley’s heart failed him in May, but given his ill health, no one was surprised. Lady Thornby was taken off by a fever last month, but she had been bedridden for nearly a year.”

She fell silent, thinking. Lavinia listened to the ticking of the tall clock.

“I confess that I did wonder a bit at the news of Lady Rowland’s death last month,” Joan said eventually. “The gossip is that she accidentally consumed too much of her bedtime tonic and died in her sleep. But those who were close to her said that she brewed the concoction herself and had taken it regularly for years without incident.”

Lavinia turned quickly. “Suicide?”

“I am strongly inclined to doubt it.”

“How can you be so sure?”

“The woman was a tyrant,” Joan said flatly. “She controlled the purse strings in the family, and she did not hesitate to use them to force the others to bend to her will. At the time of her death, she had an excellent reason to live.”

Lavinia felt her curiosity stir. “Why do you say that?”

“From all accounts, Lady Rowland was looking forward to the announcement of her eldest granddaughter’s engagement next month. She had agreed to settle a vast sum on the girl, provided her papa accepted an offer from Ferring’s oldest son. It was no secret that Lady Rowland was obsessed with seeing the marriage take place.”

“Why was that?”

“The
on-dit
is that in her youth, Lady Rowland conceived a great passion for Ferring’s father. Her parents forced her to marry Rowland instead, but the gossip is that she never got over her feelings for Ferring. Indeed, they are rumored to have had a long-standing affair after Ferring himself was married. He died a few years ago.”

“Do you believe that Lady Rowland was determined to live out her dreams through her eldest granddaughter?”

“That is what I was told. It is certainly no secret that after her own husband died, she used the Rowland fortune to buy the Ferring heir for her granddaughter.” Joan sipped tea and slowly lowered her cup, eyes faintly narrowed. “But I believe that has all changed now.”

“Why is that?”

“Maryanne mentioned just last week that she had heard there would be no engagement announcement after all. Something about the young lady’s papa having refused Ferring’s offer.”

Lavinia felt excitement leap. “What happened to change his mind?”

“I cannot say. At the time the subject was not of particular interest.” Joan paused. “But I could probably find out for you.”

“Yes, I think I would very much like to know the particulars.” Lavinia tapped the toe of her half boot on the thick carpet. “Who controls Lady Rowland’s fortune now?”

“Her son, the granddaughter’s papa.”

“Well, now,” Lavinia said to herself.

Joan gave her an inquiring look. “What are you thinking?”

“It occurs to me that in the wake of both Lord Fullerton’s and Lady Rowland’s deaths, wedding plans were drastically altered.”

Joan tilted her head slightly to the side, considering that conclusion. “Do you know, now that I study the question in that light, there may be a third death that fits the formula, that of a gentleman of some forty years named Newbold. He was found dead at the foot of his own staircase one morning a few weeks ago. Everyone assumed that he had had too much to drink and lost his balance on the top step.”

“What marriage plans were altered by his death?”

“His own.” Joan gave a tiny shudder. “He was quite a dreadful man who was known to seek out the brothels that would supply him with very young children.”

“Vile creature,” Lavinia whispered.

“Yes. But a very rich vile creature. As was the case with Fullerton, he had recently got engaged to a young lady. I wonder if the chit knows how very fortunate she is to have had her wedding date canceled.”

“Well,” Lavinia said again.

Joan frowned. “The thing is, Lavinia, as with the other two instances, no one involved appeared to be opposed to Newbold’s marriage plans. Indeed, all three of these proposed alliances were excellent matches in terms of money and social connections. In Society, those are the only things that matter. You know that as well as I do.”

“In most cases, perhaps, but not always. For example, I know that you were very concerned for Maryanne’s happiness when the plans were made for her marriage.”

“Yes, that is true.” Joan looked at the portrait of Fielding Dove that hung above the mantel, her expression unreadable. “Fielding was equally concerned. Our own marriage had been such a warm and happy alliance, you see.”

Lavinia realized that Joan was working hard to conceal some strong emotion. She did not know whether to ignore her friend’s mood or try to offer comfort. She and Joan were still in the process of forging a friendship. There were some boundaries she did not want to cross unless she was invited to do so.