Kendra said, “We can’t talk about the details of the crime.”
Miss Marat gave her a strange look. The standard line probably did sound crazy in a time when civilians could stroll through crime scenes.
Kendra changed tactics. “Did you know Lady Dover was pregnant?”
Miss Marat’s fair eyelashes lowered, veiling her eyes for a second. Then she nodded. “Oi suspected. She didn’t confide in me about the child, but you can’t be a lady’s maid without knowing these things, if you take my meaning.”
Kendra thought of the intimate duties of a lady’s maid, and understood. It was the reason she didn’t want Miss Cooper invading her space. She was more comfortable with Molly.
“I know what you mean. How do you think Lady Dover felt about the pregnancy?”
“Oi don’t know. She didn’t seem any different, really, which was odd, since she wasn’t married and her husband was long dead. It would’ve set a lot of tongues waggin’, Oi can tell you that. Maybe that was why Lord Dover was so angry.”
“Do you think he knew about the child?”
Miss Marat gave a shrug. “Secrets of that sort come out eventually, don’t they?”
“Yes, they do.” Kendra stood up. “Thank you, Miss Marat. You’ve been very helpful.”
“Oi have?”
“Absolutely. But if you think of anything else, please let us know.”
Aldridge fished in his pocket for a silver case. He opened it and gave her his calling card. “Here—this way you won’t forget.”
Miss Marat stared at the card for a moment, then she lifted her gaze to the aristocrat. She grinned suddenly. “Oi ain’t likely to forget, Your Grace. Even working for Lady Dover, it ain’t every day a girl from Twickenham gets to talk to a Duke.”
10
Standing in front of the slate board a short time later, Kendra mused, “Why would Lady Dover need another residence in London?”
Aldridge eyed her. Sam Kelly had left to hunt down Lady Dover’s former coachman/senior footman, while they’d retreated to his study.
“We already addressed this, my dear,” the Duke said. “Lady Dover required more privacy. Clearly it was a rendezvous point for her and her lover.”
“But she’s a widow. I thought the rules in this era were more relaxed for married women and widows.”
“Relaxed, but not dispensed with,” he responded, absently picking up his pipe. “She would have been ostracized from the Polite World if rumors circulated that gentlemen callers were staying overnight in her home.”
“What about the gentlemen? Would they have been ostracized, too?”
He apparently heard the critical note in her voice, as his tone was distinctly apologetic. “Miss Donovan—”
“Never mind.” She cut him off with a wave of her hand. “What about the separate residence? She entertained Alec in her home. And even if he didn’t spend the night, I doubt they were playing chess.”
“Yes, well . . .” Aldridge’s lips twitched at her dry innuendo. “There is another possibility. Gentlemen of the Ton have been known to set up separate residences for their mistresses in Town.”
Kendra jiggled the slate as she thought about it. “So you don’t think Lady Dover set up the residence, but her lover?”
“It’s a possibility.”
“Then why didn’t she meet him there? Why go through the trouble of sending the servants away? It seems pretty inconvenient.”
“Only for the servants. And I rather doubt Lady Dover was the kind of woman who spent too much time thinking about the convenience of her staff. Still, you make a good point, Miss Donovan. Why rendezvous with him at her home when there was a more private house at their disposal?”
“Home-court advantage? Maybe she thought it gave her some semblance of control. Holding the meeting on her own turf makes a more powerful statement.”
“Rather dramatic.”
Kendra had to smile. “Please. This is a woman who burned her gowns after she was finished mourning her dead husband. Dramatic, I think, is what Lady Dover did.” She paused and gave him a look. “You know that Lord Dover lied to us, right?”
“I am cognizant of the fact that he failed to mention that he’d visited his stepmother a week ago.”
“Not only visited—they had an argument loud enough to draw the attention of the staff. He hated her. She’d been an embarrassment since the day his father married her. And if he learned she was pregnant . . .”
“He would have been displeased.”
“Yeah, as in royally pissed.”
That improper and bizarre comment drew a laugh from him. “I’m assuming you are not referring to urination by a member of the royal family.”
“No.” She gave him a quick smile, but the smile faded quickly. “Lord Dover had motive—his family’s reputation. Sort of like your sister being terrified that I’m going to be a stain on your family tree.”
He sidestepped the reference. “By all accounts their dislike was mutual. I cannot credit that Lady Dover would have dismissed her staff for an assignation with him.”
“No,” Kendra admitted, and scowled. “I can’t see her doing that, either. But we may be coalescing two different scenarios. The person she was meeting and the killer. They may not be one and the same; she may not have invited the killer inside. Lord Dover is familiar with the house. He may even have a key, which is why the locks were not tampered with.”
There was the lightest of knocks on the door, and then Harding stepped into the room. “Your Grace, ma’am. Lady Atwood instructed me to inform you that a light meal will be served shortly en famille. Lord Sutcliffe is expected to join you.”
“Thank you, Harding.” Aldridge nodded at the butler, who bowed and retreated.
With a sigh, he pushed himself to his feet, his gaze traveling to the slate board, which held only one name in the suspect column. “I sincerely hope Lady St. James lives up to her reputation. We could use another name besides Lord Dover’s on the slate board.”
“I agree, Your Grace.” Kendra tossed the piece of slate on the desk and sighed. “Otherwise, this will be a nightmare.”
He eyed her with some surprise. “We’ve only just begun our inquiries, Miss Donovan. Do not be discouraged. I’m confident we will save Alec before he is brought before the House of Lords.”
“I wasn’t talking about the investigation, sir. I was actually referring to spending the afternoon with your sister.”
Kendra was only half joking. The prospect of spending any time with the Duke’s sister was enough to twist her stomach into painful knots. Her mood wasn’t helped when she found Miss Cooper already inside her bedchamber, shuffling through the clothes hanging on hooks inside the giant wardrobe. She closed the bedroom door behind her more sharply than she’d intended. It was irrational, she knew, for her to feel like her space was being invaded.