Page 54 of The Rum and The Fox

Chapter 23

To cutty eye - to look suspiciously, to look askance

- The 1811 Dictionary of the Vulgar Tongue, by Francis Grose

Ash swallowed, a taste that he now recognised as fear sour in his mouth. It had been bad enough on his own account, but now that Keziah was at risk, it was so much worse.

“Inspector,” he said, his tone anything but welcoming as the sharp eyed Mr Formby entered the foyer. That the man had heard raised voices beyond the door seemed obvious. Whether or not he had heard what they were saying, Ash could not tell.

“You’ve been out of town, your grace?” he said, looking Ash over with interest. “Anywhere nice?”

Ash restrained himself from the desire to give the man an almighty set down for impertinence. His father would have probably had him thrown out, though his grandfather would likely have done it himself with his bare hands, but Ash was neither of those men. Neither did he judge that aggravating the man was in his interests.

“Yes, as it happens,” Ash replied, drawing Keziah closer to his side. “May I present the Duchess of Chartley.”

The inspector gave Ash a sharp look before turning his gaze on Keziah. After a nudge from his constable, the man at least remembered to bow.

“Your grace,” he said, looking up with a grin that Ash could not entirely like. “Many congratulations.”

There was something in his tone, too, a rather caustic note that Keziah obviously heard as she stiffened beside him.

“Thank you, inspector,” she replied, every inch the duchess in her bearing.

Formby stood for a moment, rocking back on his heels.

“Well, if there is nothing else?” Ash said, seizing the opportunity, but sadly the inspector held up his hand.

“Actually, I would like a word with her grace, Lord Ashwicke,” he said, looking far too pleased with himself.

“I’m afraid that is out of the question,” Ash replied, squeezing Keziah’s hand and urging her to keep quiet. “My wife is fatigued after our journey and was about to retire. You will have to return another time.”

“I regret that this is of an urgent nature,” Mr Formby said, not looking like he regretted it at all and more like he was eager to set the cat among the pigeons.

“Then you may return tomorrow, sir,” Ash repeated, his expression hard now. But the inspector was not to be thwarted.

“You’re a fine shot, so I hear, Lady Ashwicke?”

Keziah’s grip on his hand tightened a little, but other than that, she showed no sign of being distressed by the question.

“Did she shoot him?” Hannah shrieked, running forward and clutching the inspector’s arm in a way that had the man taking a hasty step backwards.

“Of course she didn’t shoot Lord Todd,” Lady Margaret replied, with such a look of disgust that Ash could have kissed her in that moment, despite their differences. “She was here, bleeding over our sheets, you foolish girl.”

Hannah, who rarely had spirit enough to withstand a set down from her grandmother, was not to be so easily put in her place.

“How can you be sure?” she demanded, her pretty face flushed with anger and such malice in her eyes that Ash felt he hardly knew her at all. “She could have run here after she shot him. She could have faked her injuries, done it herself, fallen down the stairs, how do we know that he really beat her? Perhaps she has a lover who did it!”

Before Ash could consider his actions he had reached out and grasped hold of Hannah’s arms and given her a firm shake. “You will never, never again repeat such scurrilous lies,” he said, his voice pitched no louder than usual but sounding so utterly furious that Ash could hardly believe it was his. “Now go to your room and do not come out again until you are prepared to apologise to my wife.”

Hannah, who was staring at Ash with obvious surprise and no little indignation, went to open her mouth, but Lady Margaret spoke first.

“I should do as he says, child, or you may find yourself in a carriage heading north,” she said, her tone dry.

Hannah gaped at her, and then sent Ash a cautious look before settling her face into an expression of one who felt herself to have been ill-used by everybody, and ran up the stairs with an audible sob.

“You’ve ruined that girl, Anne,” Lady Margaret said, shaking her head. “Now inspector, if you’ve witnessed enough family drama for one day, perhaps you would do as you have been bid and return tomorrow when feelings are running a little less high. I’m sure Lady Ashwicke would consent to speak with you then, say, around eleven AM?”

Formby’s face darkened, and he shook his head. “I’m sorry, your grace, but I ain’t budging from this spot until I have the questions answered. So what’ll it be, Lady Ashwicke?”