What Rumours Don't Say (8 page)

Reluctantly, the old woman handed the bottle to Axelle, who held it up to the light, frowning at the greenish liquid that was inside.

“What is this for?” Axelle asked.

“Mrs. Owens here has a daughter who is with child,” Mrs. Chapman explained in a whisper. “But unfortunately, the poor girl is sickly and I fear she will die if she goes through with carrying the child.”

“So this concoction is to make her lose the babe?” Axelle asked with an expression of puzzlement and horror.

“Yes, my lady,” Mrs. Chapman said. “But please, do not tell his lordship I gave you this knowledge. He will certainly be displeased.”

“Indeed,” Axelle agreed. She handed the bottle back to Mrs. Owens. “Is there any other concoction of this color?”

“There are plenty, my lady,” Mrs. Chapman answered.

Axelle frowned. She was about to ask a few more questions when they were interrupted once more, this time by a groom from the Ravenhall stables whom Axelle recognized.

“His lordship wishes to see you, my lady,” the groom said. “I believe he is preparing for another trip to London.”

“Then I must go to him,” Axelle answered. She turned to Mrs. Chapman. “Good day, Mrs. Chapman.”

“Good day, my lady.”

Quickly, Axelle went to her horse and followed the groom back to the Manor, knowing full well that Reeve did not like to be kept waiting. She found him at the stables in his riding habit, seemingly preparing for a journey just as the groom had said.

“I was not aware you were going somewhere, my lord,” she said as she dismounted.

“I have received a letter from the investigator,” he told her. “And I am going there to do further investigation myself.”

“Oh,” Axelle said. “In that case, I shall go with you, my lord.”

He regarded her with confusion. “Pray, tell me why that is necessary.”

“Because I wish to return to London?” she said. “And perhaps because I am confident I can aid you in your investigation.”

He sighed, somehow having guessed that. “I thought I had made it plain I do not want you to have any part in this investigation.”

“You have told me, my lord, not to look for a killer alone. In this case, I am searching for the killer with you.”

He frowned.

“Besides, my lord, I might be able to stumble upon some things that only a woman can,” Axelle added.

“That, my dear Axelle, is exactly what I feared.”

“You are right, my lord, I do seem to have a penchant for getting into trouble,” she admitted.

Reeve raised an eyebrow at the admission.

“If I stayed here, who knows what trouble I could get into?”

His frowned deepened at that. “It seems I have forgotten that I have a difficult wife.”

She ignored that. “On the other hand, my lord, if you bring me to London, I give you my word that I shall stay out of trouble and conduct myself properly, being as discreet as I can in my inquiries.”

“You will not make any inquiries alone,” he said.

“If that is what you wish, my lord,” she said.

He sighed again, defeated. “Very well, but I am warning you, my lady, I will send you back home and lock you up if needed the moment I sense danger.”

She frowned but did not protest. “Very well, my lord.”

“And do not keep your hopes up,” he added. “It is unlikely that we shall uncover the person who committed a crime nine years ago.”

Axelle nodded. Still, she could not help but feel excited about their journey.

Six

 Axelle suddenly felt very bored.

 Stifling a yawn from behind her jewelled fan, she looked around the ballroom of the Viscount of Stonevale, her gaze sweeping across the crowd of women in colorful silk gowns cut in the latest fashion, not unlike the pale green gown she currently wore which hung past her shoulders and matched the color of her eyes, and men in handsomely tailored shirts, vests and breeches.

Briefly, she was reminded of her wedding, the same crowd she saw now very much like the crowd that had been present then. Unlike that time, though, when they had showered her with warm smiles and words of adulation and congratulations, now, many of them ignored her, some even raising an eyebrow at her or even casting a derisive glance in her direction, letting her know what they truly thought of her – a woman undeserving of bearing the title of the new Countess of Ravenhall, along with the wealth and prestige that came with it, a title which she managed to obtain only as a result of unfortunate circumstances.

If only her husband was standing at her side, she doubted that she would receive the same scrutiny, but as it was, she was all by herself beside the refreshments table, Lord Barton being engaged in a game of cards and Lady Barton keenly watching Katherine as she danced with the Viscount’s brother, her expression making it plain that she approved of them and was hoping for an offer of marriage from him.

Axelle sighed. While she appreciated the fact that Lady Barton no longer had reason to fawn over her and unceasingly torment her about the subject of marriage, she felt a little sorry for Katherine, knowing that she now had to endure the same treatment to an even higher degree. She had heard, after all, that while Lady Barton had been happy for her marriage, she had been more scrupulous with Katherine afterwards and keener on having her married off to a noble even more respectable than the Earl of Ravenhall. That, no doubt, made Katherine detest her even more than she already did in the past, which was why the younger woman had not spoken to her since she arrived yesterday.

As for her husband, he was nowhere in sight, though she knew exactly where he was. He was currently at the study of the Viscount of Stonevale, in fact, having learned that the Viscount’s father had taken his own life after his finances had fallen apart nine years ago, around the same month before Reeve had married Anne. There were rumours, as well, that the Viscount had poisoned one of his mistresses after learning that she had an affair with another man, although that had never been confirmed.

With luck, Reeve would be able to find something that could prove the former Viscount of Stonevale’s financial failing had something to do with him, which would then give his son motive to kill Anne to exact revenge, and give them cause to pursue their investigation. Axelle, however, was not counting on it, simply because, from having danced with the Viscount of Stonevale earlier, she had gained the impression that he did not think highly of his father, nor did he seem the kind of man to hold grudges.

Of course, she could be wrong, Axelle thought. Then again, her intuition seldom failed.

If not the Viscount of Stonevale, then who could have killed Anne?

She was still trying to think of an answer when her thoughts were suddenly interrupted by Lady Merryweather, a widow who was several years older than her who had a reputed penchant for spreading gossip, and none too discreetly.

“Why, look at you, dear,” Lady Merryweather said as she approached. “It seems being a wife suits you.”

“Good evening, Lady Merryweather.” Axelle lowered her fan and mustered a smile. Inwardly, she frowned, though, hoping that the other woman would not take much of her time.

“Tell me…” Lady Merryweather moved closer to her and whispered behind her fan. “Are you already expecting?”

Axelle did her best to suppress a look of horror at the remark. “It is very kind of you, my lady, to show concern for me and wish for an heir for Ravenhall but I do not believe I am expecting just yet.”

“Ah, but he has been frequenting your bedchamber, hasn’t he?” Lady Merryweather teased. “It is plain, after all, from that glisten in your eyes and that rosy glow of your skin, none of that pallor you used to have, that he has been spending time with you.”

At that moment, she was tempted to come up with an excuse just so she could escape the other woman but suddenly, an idea came to her. If Lady Merryweather was, in fact, knowledgeable about most of the things happening in the
ton
, and Axelle had a feeling she was although she doubted the accuracy of her knowledge, there was a chance that Lady Merryweather might know something about Anne’s murder.

“Well, I suppose it is only natural considering the poor man has been without a wife for very long,” Axelle said. She leaned towards Lady Merryweather. “I have heard that he has not visited any brothels, either, seemingly having lost his taste for such women, which is fortunate for me, I suppose, although sometimes, I still find him deep in thought about his first wife. Perhaps if she had not been murdered, he might have forgotten about her more easily.”

“So I was right in thinking she had been murdered after all,” Lady Merryweather said.

“Do you suppose anyone from the
ton
might have murdered her?” Axelle asked hopefully.

Lady Merryweather paused to think. “Well, I do think that many men of the
ton
are capable of murder. It would make them feel more manly, in fact. Many, too, frequent the brothels or pick up women from the streets, though of course, they were wise enough not to marry them unlike the Earl had done. Even if they had known Anne, it would be unlikely that they would murder her. Strumpets are hardly given a second thought, after all. They just bring them to their beds and the next day, they are cast out.”

Axelle frowned but said nothing.

“Unless of course, they fancied her and wanted her for their own mistress,” Lady Merryweather added. “If she refused them, they would have considered that a blow to their honor and killed her, or perhaps, hired someone to kill her.”

“That is a possibility,” Axelle agreed.

“She might also have had a lover from the docks or perhaps another strumpet might have killed her out of envy.”

Axelle nodded. As much as she loathed Lady Merryweather’s penchant for gossip, she had to admit that the woman knew how to speculate.

“If you ask me, though, I would say Lady Ashton did it.”

“The Countess of Blackwood?” Axelle raised an eyebrow.

“You see, Lord Ashton and the former Earl of Ravenhall, Lord Colter, were good acquaintances. I heard Lord Ashton was even one of Lord Colter’s second in their younger days,” Lady Merryweather said. “Which was why it was only natural that Meredith, the daughter of Lord Ashton, was set to marry Lord Colter’s son, but of course, he married Anne, instead. I imagine Lady Ashton would have been very displeased.”

“Displeased enough to kill?” Axelle asked.

“Oh, dear, if you had a child, you would understand just how much a hatred a mother can feel for someone who has deprived her child of happiness,” Lady Merryweather answered. “Yes, I imagine she would have been displeased enough to kill.”

“She would go all the way to the countryside to kill Anne?”

“The Blackwood estate is near the Ravenhall estate, is it not?” Lady Merryweather asked a question of her own. “I have not been to the countryside much but I have heard that Lord Ashton and Lord Colter used to hunt together frequently when they were in the countryside, which means they must have lived close to each other.”

“I suppose so,” Axelle said. Until recently, she had not yet even known that the Westbury estate was next to the Ravenhall estate and so she could not confirm what Lady Merryweather knew.

“Besides, if you ask me, poisoning is not a man’s way of murder,” Lady Merryweather added. “A pistol or even a knife would suit a man more, I think.”

“Well, I thank you for imparting your knowledge with an ignorant woman such as I,” Axelle said, surprisingly sounding more genuinely grateful than she had intended.

Lady Merryweather smiled. “You are not such a bore, after all, as I thought you would be.”

Axelle did not know whether to frown or smile at that remark but she did not have time to make up her mind as she suddenly saw the Viscount of Stonevale ascending one of the side staircases. As far as Axelle knew, there were only two reasons men took that staircase – one was to rendezvous with a woman at one of the bedchambers and the other to check something at the study.

Fearful that it would be the latter, Axelle quickly excused herself and went after the Viscount, managing to catch him just as he reached the top of the staircase.

“Good evening, my lord,” she said to him.

He eyed her curiously. “Is something the matter, Lady Colter?”

“My lord, I…” She stopped, trying to think of something as quickly as she could. “I heard, my lord, that you have beautiful gardens and was wondering if I could see them from an upstairs balcony.”

As soon as she said the words, Axelle wanted to berate herself, thinking that she had just said something lame and she would not be surprised if the Viscount turned her away. He did not, however, instead smiling at her and stretching out his hand.

“Come, my lady,” he said. “It would be an honor.”

She smiled weakly as she took his hand, allowing him to lead her down a hall, past several rooms until they reached the balcony at the end.

Reluctantly, she leaned over the railing for a few seconds and then stepped back, looking at the Viscount who seemed to be watching her with amusement.