Page 33 of A Murder at Kew Gardens

“Claire never volunteered that?”

"No. And I neglected to ask."

"She had just admitted she had been blackmailed for months. Under the circumstances, I doubt either of us would think clearly under similar circumstances.”

"No," she agreed softly. "Claire was quite undone. She blamed herself for Cosmos being suspected of Crane’s murder.”

“She had nothing to do with it. Somebody else committed that murder. Your brother certainly didn’t.”

She gazed at me with wonder. “You believe him innocent then?”

“Of course, I do. His emotions might have run away with him at the Argosy, but he would never commit murder, especially with the pistol his father gave him. Clearly, he treasured it.”

For a moment, her countenance failed her. “Oh, Steele.”

I barely stopped myself from reaching out to her. “Take heart, Rosalynd. We will find the murderer.”

“Will we?” She brushed a hand across her brow. “I’m not sleeping. All I do is toss and turn. I wish…” She never finished the thought. Instead, she shook her head, and she was Rosalynd once more. "I should speak with Claire. See what she has to say.”

I nodded. “That would be the best approach. Now that she has had time to think, she might remember something. Sometimes the most important detail is the one a person believes too insignificant to mention."

"Or too painful."

"Yes."

She met my gaze. "I'll visit her this afternoon."

For a few moments neither of us spoke. The silence was not uncomfortable. It rarely had been.

“Has Finch discovered anything?” she asked.

Yes, he has. But it’s nothing I can share with you. “Not yet. He’s put two men on the enquiry. I expect his report soon.”

Outside, a costermonger called his wares somewhere in Grosvenor Square. The sound drifted faintly through the closed window before fading into the ordinary business of London.

I rose and said goodbye. Best leave before I gave away the game.

Chapter

Thirteen

A Second Thread

No sooner had the door to the morning room closed behind Steele than I set out for the stairs. Claire needed visiting, which meant that I needed to change into a suitable gown. A half hour later, I made my way down in a dark blue walking dress, along with a simple hat.

Honeycutt appeared in the hall almost at once.

“Venturing out, my lady?”

“Yes.”

“Shall I have the carriage brought round?”

“No.” The Rosehaven carriage carried the family crest upon its doors. It would announce my movements to the whole of Mayfair. There were afternoons when that was useful. Today was not one of them. “I should like a hansom instead.”

“As you wish.” His tone conveyed his opinion of hansoms with great economy. Ladies of my position did not rattle about London unescorted in hired cabs. Ladies of my position did a great many things, proper or otherwise, provided no one watched them do it.

A few moments later he opened the front door for me. A hansom was already at the curb.