“No, certainly not.”
They stood in an awkward silence until the carriage arrived. Aldridge waited until the coachman flicked his whip, and the horses began trotting down the drive. The afternoon was sliding fast into evening and there was a chill in the air, but Kendra thought they were dealing with another chill that came from horror.
“My God,” the Duke breathed. “I had no idea. Lady Anne is quite mad.”
35
The sun was sinking rapidly to the horizon when they gathered again in the study. As Alec poured drinks, two footmen arrived to silently bring in wood and light a fire in the hearth, as well as lighting the candles and wall sconces.
Rebecca waited until the servants had departed before she revealed, “Harris was not at home.”
Kendra accepted a glass of claret from Alec. “Not at home, literally? Or not at home to you?”
Rebecca gave her an astonished look. “My dear Miss Donovan, Sutcliffe is a marquis. I am the daughter of an earl. Mr. Harris is the youngest son of an earl. A vicar. He would hardly have not been at home to us if he were at home!”
Aldridge chuckled as he took a sip of his brandy. “I believe Miss Donovan is jesting, my dear. I explained to her the calling card etiquette during our visit to Tinley Park.”
The aristocrat raised her brows. “You do not have calling cards in America?”
Again Kendra thought of her FBI badge. “My calling card was a little different. Where was Mr. Harris?”
“Out in the woods riding. Mr. Kelly, would you like a glass of claret, brandy, or whiskey?” Alec glanced at the Runner.
“Oh. Whiskey, thank you, sir.”
“We shall have to interview him another time,” Alec continued, passing a stout glass with a generous four fingers to Sam. “However, I am happy to report that we can eliminate Squire Wilding from our hunt.”
“Yes.” Rebecca sipped her claret. “The poor man is suffering most dreadfully from the unwalkable disease. Podagra,” she added when she saw Kendra frown.
“Podagra? Foot pain?” Kendra translated the Greek phrase.
“Gout, Miss Donovan,” the Duke added. “The disease of kings. The good Squire has a prodigious fondness for food—red meat in particular, if I recall. Which, I have been told, exasperates the illness.”
“His big toe has swelled up almost to the size of a cricket ball,” Rebecca informed everyone. “It’s quite remarkable. He was in a chair with his foot raised on a stool with pillows. He can scarcely stand upright without two servants to carry him about.”
“The Squire’s misfortune is fortunate for us, then,” Aldridge glanced at Sam. “What of you, Mr. Kelly? Do you have similarly good news to report?”
“Regrettably, no. Mr. Hawkings saw Lord Gabriel and Captain Harcourt at the beginning of the first cockfight, but couldn’t swear they were around after. It was a crush, with more than two hundred men. They could’ve left.”
Alec’s mouth tightened. “I shall speak to my brother again.”
Kendra shook her head. “I don’t think that would be wise.”
“He is my brother, Miss Donovan.”
“Which is precisely why you shouldn’t speak to him. You’re too emotionally invested. You don’t want him to be guilty. You may hear only what you want to hear.”
“Don’t be stupid. I am not deaf, woman.”
“No, you’re human,” she snapped.
Aldridge raised his hand to curtail any argument. “Miss Donovan and I will speak with Gabriel tomorrow, Alec.”
Kendra could see that Alec didn’t like that idea, but he said nothing. After a moment, Sam cleared his throat. “I also learned that Lord Gabriel’s companion, Captain Harcourt, has a hunting lodge in the area, and he’s in dun territory.”
That surprised the Duke. “I knew he had a hunting lodge hereabouts, but I had no idea about his financial situation. My sister must be unaware of it, as well. She is not in the habit of inviting fortune hunters to her soirees.”
Rebecca looked thoughtful. “Mary told me that he was on the pursuit for a wife. Now I realize he must be looking for an heiress.”
“Mayhap you should ask your maid who killed the girl,” Alec muttered. “’Twould save us all time.”
Rebecca ignored him, looking at Kendra and the Duke. “And what of your inquiry? Were you able to eliminate Morland from the list of suspects?”
Aldridge frowned down into his brandy glass. “Alas, no. Morland was very reasonably in bed during the night of the murder. However, we did discover something distressing. Lady Anne is quite ill. Her mind has shattered.”
Rebecca’s eyes widened. “Good heavens.”
“We shall not speak of it beyond this room,” Aldridge instructed. “We may be forced to inquire into these gentlemen’s lives, but we must be circumspect in the information that we uncover. They deserve that much consideration.”