Rebecca pursed her lips, setting down her teacup with a snap against the china saucer. “Well, why would he? What could she have done about it? She has no rights, and no access to money or property, even if it was hers before the marriage.”
Kendra nodded and said, “You make my point. Roberts might not like people knowing that he’d slept with Lady Dover—especially not his father-in-law, who was sleeping with her, too—but I don’t think that would be enough for him to murder her. If he did do it, it would be for another reason, something we haven’t considered yet.”
Sam suddenly understood what she was implying. “God’s teeth, you think Lady Frances murdered her because Lady Dover told her that she’d bedded her husband?”
“I think that would give her a pretty strong motivation, yes. And she has no alibi for the time Miss Cooper was murdered yesterday.”
“But she does have an alibi for the time Lady Dover was murdered,” Rebecca reminded Kendra. “In fact, she has the best alibi. She was hosting a ball. It’s not like being a guest, Miss Donovan. There, you might be able to slip away unnoticed for half an hour. But it would have been much more difficult for the hostess.”
“Aye, I don’t see how she could’ve pulled it off,” Sam agreed. His gaze went to the timeline on the slate board. “The murder had ter have happened between eight and eleven. Lady Frances’s ball began at nine . . . it just don’t seem likely. Seems ter me that this is another strike against Lord Weston. He wouldn’t like his mistress makin’ him out ter be a fool—assumin’ he knew.”
“He appeared surprised when he realized Mr. Roberts’s snuffbox had been found at the cottage,” said Aldridge. “Although I will allow that could have been an act.”
Alec reached over for the teapot, replenishing his cup. “The man I spoke with earlier said Weston has a vile temper when provoked.”
“This would’ve provoked him, I’d think,” murmured Sam.
Alec continued, “He also told me that Viscount has lost his fortune at the gaming tables. Yet when pressed, he still believed that Lord Weston was the one who murdered Cordelia.”
Kendra looked at Sam. “Have you made any progress on finding what was stolen from Lady Dover’s house?”
He frowned, a little puzzled by her insistence on the subject. He wanted to find the thieves, certainly, but that was a matter of principle. “Nay. And if’n you don’t mind me askin’, what does it matter, Miss? The housebreaking was done after the murder. How could it help in findin’ the murderer?”
“I still want to know if the Weston family necklace is among the stolen items or if Lady Dover was wearing it that night.”
“She wasn’t wearing it. The only thing she’d been wearing was a fancy comb . . .” The explanation was so simple that Sam was annoyed with himself for not thinking of it before. “If it’s not with the stolen goods, then the killer took it.”
Kendra nodded. “And there are only a handful of people who would have felt compelled to take the necklace after they’d murdered her.”
“The entire Weston family,” Aldridge offered.
Kendra smiled. “Yes.”
“But we are already focused on them.” Rebecca frowned, puzzled. “How does this help?”
“We only have theory and conjecture. This would be something more concrete. It also has the potential to eliminate both sons-in-law from the pool of suspects.”
“Why would it eliminate them?” asked Alec.
Kendra shrugged. “What’s in it for them?”
Rebecca said, “The necklace would never go to their wives. It would go to Dawson, to give to his wife when he marries. That certainly takes away the motivation to steal the necklace.”
“But if it’s just lying there, they’d leave it? Seems like an expensive trinket ter leave behind,” said the Bow Street Runner.
Kendra looked at Alec. “That’s a point to pursue—the finances of Mr. Roberts and Mr. Sedwick. But again, Lady Dover’s death wasn’t a robbery. If the necklace was stolen by the killer, it’s because he or she has a personal connection to it. If Roberts or Sedwick stole it, what then? It’s not like they could return it to the family without having the Westons wonder how the necklace had come into their hands.”
“And if they are badly dipped and stole the necklace—secondary to the murder—they’d have to fence it,” Alec pointed out.
“I’ll have me men on the lookout—assumin’, that is, it’s not in with the rest of Lady Dover’s stolen goods.”
“You realize there is actually a very simple way to find out if Lady Dover wore the necklace that night,” Rebecca said, and shook her head when she looked around the table at their perplexed faces. “Miss Marat, of course. Lady Dover’s lady’s maid helped dress her before they left. She would know.”
38
You want to know if Lady Dover wore a necklace the night she was killed?”
Miss Marat sat across from Kendra and Rebecca in the drawing room. Kendra realized she was tapping her foot with impatience and forced herself to stop. But, damn it, she felt like she was ready to jump out of her skin. They’d dispatched the note to Miss Marat two hours ago. It had taken that long for the footman to track down the lady’s maid and bring her back to the Duke’s residence.
Sam had left for Bow Street. The Duke had an appointment at the Royal Society, an organization advocating science and natural philosophy that Sir Isaac Newton himself had once governed. Alec had left to deal with correspondence at his own residence. Rebecca had stayed, occupying herself with a book while Kendra had updated the slate board, drank coffee, and paced. The nervous energy had forced Rebecca to depart for the more tranquil setting of the library until Harding announced Miss Marat’s arrival.
“You said that Lady Dover had paid particular attention on how she dressed that night.”
“She always paid attention, Lady Dover did. But, aye, she was set on wearing the blue frock.”
“It occurred to me that she might also have been particularly interested in wearing a certain necklace.”
The extra-long blond lashes fluttered. “Now that you mention it, Miss, she did seem to be in a peculiar excitement about the bauble.”
“Can you describe it to me?”
The maid scrunched her face in concentration. “It was pretty. There were sparklers—diamonds, that is—and pearls.”
“Can you be a little more precise?”
“How am Oi to do that, Miss?”
“How many strands of pearls?”
Miss Marat closed her eyes and counted her fingers. “Five, it were.” She opened her eyes and smiled at Kendra. “And Oi remember those diamonds. Funny they were, because they were pink. Her ladyship was fond of pink, she was.”
Kendra kept her expression neutral as she asked, “And the last time you saw this particular necklace?”
“Around Lady Dover’s neck, it was. Oi put it there myself.”