Page 119 of The Marriage Method

Miles accompanied Nell upstairs to their bedchamber in brooding silence. The lamps had been lit for them and the bed turned down. A fire was kindled in the hearth, bathing the room in a flickering glow.

Nell turned to face him the instant he shut and locked the door. “Bricket Lodge,” she said.

Miles regarded her with a frown.

Nell was undeterred. He obviously understood what she was referencing. They’d exchanged a significant look when Lady Upshott had mentioned the place during tea.

“Mr. Cowgill was there earlier this year,” she reminded him. “What if he encountered Lord Amstead’s former housekeeper, Mrs. Virtue, during his stay? What if, in the course of attempting to glean some gossip for his society column, he heard something damaging about the Fawn-Purvis family?”

“I suspect he did,” Miles said.

“Which would explain why Lord Amstead got rid of all of the servants. He didn’t want them sharing whatever it is they knew.” Folding her arms, Nell walked to the fireplace. “If his lordship has something to hide—” She broke off, coming to a halt on the hearthrug. “And that’s another thing. What do you suppose happened with his sister, Jane?”

Miles slowly crossed the room to join her in front of the fire. The shadows from the flames danced over his solemn countenance. “A scandal of some sort. I shall find out more tomorrow. If Amstead won’t discuss it, you can be certain that one of his sporting friends will.”

“And at least one of the ladies,” Nell said. “Lady Upshott seems the most likely to traffic in gossip. She’s well enough acquainted with the family to know the names of the old butler and housekeeper. Doubtless she knows about the sister, too.”

“You can question her and the others tomorrow when I go out shooting with the men. I’ll talk to Radford if I can get him alone long enough. As for Amstead—”

“Amstead, exactly,” Nell repeated the name with dramatic emphasis. “Amstead.”

Miles’s brow creased.

“That’s what he’s called now,” Nell explained. “Not Mr. Fawn-Purvis. The moment he ascended to the title, he became Baron Amstead. Lord Amstead. Or just Amstead, as his friends call him. Do you see? It only came to me this evening during all those hours in the wretched man’s company. Mr. Cowgill’s notebook didn’t mention Amstead at all. It mentioned Fawn-Purvis and Innes.”

Understanding registered on Miles’s face. Astonishment followed with it. “By God, you’re right.”

In her excitement, Nell instinctively moved closer to him. She sank her voice. “What if he wasn’t referencing the baron? What if it was another family member entirely?”

“Jane Fawn-Purvis?” Miles suggested.

“It must be,” Nell said. “Something about her and Innes.”

“You think they were—?”

“No.” Nell wrinkled her nose at the thought. “Heavens, no. According to the peerage, Jane is a girl in her twenties. While Innes must be past fifty at least.”

“It’s not unheard of.”

“Possibly not. But really, Miles. Innes? He’s no Sir Galahad.”

“Not to you, perhaps.”

“Or to any young girl, I should think. Even if he was…what has that to do with Whitechapel and five thousand pounds? And if he did debauch Amstead’s sister, why is he still here? Why wasn’t he dismissed along with the rest of the servants?”

“We’ll find out soon enough,” Miles said. “If not from our efforts tomorrow, then from Mrs. Virtue herself.”

Nell’s eyes widened. “You propose that we visit Bricket Lodge? But how? We can’t ask Lord Amstead’s coachman to drive us there.”

“No. But we can borrow a gig and drive there ourselves.”

“On what pretense?”

“The most obvious one.”

She looked at him blankly.

Miles remained unsmiling. “That I require time alone with my wife.”