Gerrard was aware of the increasingly narrow-eyed glances Sir Vincent threw his way.
He ignored them, but kept a mental eye on Sir Vincent while over the heads he tracked the progress of the rest of their party. While crossing the room, Lord Tregonning had paused beside various groups to acknowledge the interest his presence evoked; his attitude, that of a gentleman expecting to be pleasantly entertained without any concern clouding his mind, caused those he spoke with, once he’d moved on, to look at Jacqueline-Gerrard hoped with new eyes.
His lordship had set a steady course for Sir Godfrey, eventually engaging the magistrate; Millicent and Barnaby had swept up in support. Gerrard knew their strategy. Lord Tregonning had introduced Barnaby and his findings, then left it to Barnaby to explain. Barnaby was still explaining. Sir Godfrey seemed to be making heavy weather of absorbing Barnaby’s deductions.
Lord Tregonning excused himself and made his slow, regal way to the cardroom; there, he’d engage the older gentlemen like himself, expressing his shock at the discovery of Thomas’s body and his views on the person responsible, slaying any thought that he entertained the notion that Jacqueline had been in any way involved.
Barnaby and Millicent remained talking, low-voiced and serious, with Sir Godfrey. Then Millicent looked up, clearly exasperated. She pointed to a door, linked her arm in Sir Godfrey’s, and all but forcibly towed him off to the library, there, Gerrard guessed, to lecture him at length and make sure he understood the Tregonnings’ stance. Barnaby followed, quietly determined. Gerrard had every confidence the pair would succeed in clarifying Sir Godfrey’s mind.
“Ah, my dear Jacqueline.”
Jordan Fritham’s arrogant drawl recalled Gerrard to nearer events.
Jacqueline smiled and gave Jordan her hand. “Jordan. Where’s Eleanor? I haven’t sighted her yet.”
“Oh, she’s over there somewhere, busily filling up her dance card.” With a nonchalant wave, Jordan dismissed his sister. “I thought I should come and do my part to fill yours.” Assured, he glanced idly over the crowd. “The cotillion, I think, if you please?”
Gerrard tensed; Sir Vincent openly bristled. Jordan’s attitude-tone, stance and clear assumption-was so ineffably superior it bordered on the rude. Yet Gerrard was prepared to wager the egotistical prick didn’t even realize; he was considering ways to puncture Jordan’s ego when Jacqueline spoke.
“I’m so sorry, Jordan, but you’re too late.” With a gentle smile, she held up her card. “My card’s already full.”
Stunned surprise filled Jordan’s face; Gerrard had to fight to keep his lips straight, especially when his eyes met Sir Vincent’s.
“Oh.” Jordan blinked; he seemed to be having trouble assimilating the blindingly obvious-that Jacqueline was a popular young lady who didn’t need his patronage to fill her evening with dance partners. He blinked again. “I see. Well, then, I’ll…leave you to it.”
With an abrupt bow, he swung around and walked away.
“Jacqueline, dear.” They turned to see Millicent sweeping down on them, resplendent in lilac bombazine. She smiled at the circle of attentive males, then announced, “Lady Tannahay and the Entwhistles have arrived, my dear, and they’d very much like to speak with you. And Mr. Debbington, too, of course.” She flashed a smile at the others. “I’m sure these gentlemen will excuse you.”
They did, with swift bows and intrigued expressions.
Taking Jacqueline’s hand, Gerrard laid it on his sleeve, covering it with his. He looked down at her, encouragement in his eyes. “Just be yourself-that’s all you need to do. Don’t be afraid to let what you feel show.”
He felt her fingers quiver beneath his; she drew in a breath, and stiffened her spine. Her attention was already fixed on their destination, a corner of the room where Lady Tannahay stood beside an older gentleman, tall, imposing, but with bowed shoulders, a smaller, rotund lady by his side. The lady wore dark gray, her gown severely cut.
Jacqueline held her head high; Gerrard’s whispered words echoed in her mind. What she felt for the Entwhistles, for Thomas…As they drew near, she concentrated on that, let her emotions well.
Gerrard halted before Sir Harvey and Madeline, Lady Entwhistle. Jacqueline’s eyes locked with her ladyship’s; she was distantly aware of Millicent introducing Gerrard to Sir Harvey, but Lady Entwhistle searched her eyes-in her ladyship’s face she saw understanding, compassion, and the same sense of loss she herself still felt.
“My dear.” With a wavering smile, Lady Entwhistle reached for her hands.
Jacqueline surrendered them readily, returning the light pressure of her ladyship’s fingers.
“I know you share our loss, my dear-that you’ve grieved for Thomas as have we. He was a dear, dear boy and we miss him every day, but you…” Lady Entwhistle struggled to find a smile and squeezed Jacqueline’s hands. “While finding his body is a shock, I hope you can now leave poor Thomas to rest, and go on with your life. We were very happy when he chose you, but we wouldn’t wish his death to ruin your life. I had no idea until Elsie spoke with us that some had even considered…But with what I hear these gentlemen”-her ladyship’s gaze shifted briefly to Gerrard and she smiled faintly-“have learned, the situation should be plain to all.”
Lady Entwhistle drew in a steadying breath, and smiled more definitely at Jacqueline. Then she impulsively drew her closer and touched cheeks. “My dear,” she murmured, “I do hope you’ll put all this behind you and go on. I know Thomas would have wanted that.”
Jacqueline drew back; ignoring the tears in her eyes, she smiled at Lady Entwhistle. “Thank you.” Their gazes held. Nothing more needed to be said.
“Ahem.” Sir Harvey cleared his throat. He nodded at Jacqueline. “Good to see you looking so well, m’dear.” He looked at his wife. “I’ve just been talking to Debbington here.”
Gerrard shook hands with Lady Entwhistle, then Sir Harvey continued, “He tells me his friend, Mr. Adair, can explain the details better-ah, here he is now.”
Barnaby, whom Gerrard had beckoned to join them, came up and was introduced to the Entwhistles. Sir Harvey and Lady Entwhistle decided to retire to the library to hear all Barnaby could tell them.
With Gerrard, Jacqueline took her leave of them. As she turned back to the room, Elsie Tannahay caught her eye. “Come walk with me for a little, my dear. It’ll save you from the overly interested, at least until the dancing starts.”
Gerrard offered Lady Tannahay his arm; with a gracious smile, she took it. He offered his other arm to Jacqueline.
Millicent waved them on. “I’m off to talk to that reprobate Godfrey. I want to keep my eye on him.”
They parted. As they strolled down the room, Lady Tannahay relentlessly claimed Jacqueline’s attention, chatting about inconsequential matters; her position in local society ensured that no one attempted to interrupt, but everyone was watching.
Many had witnessed the scene earlier, and had understood the implications; they were now busily explaining to those who hadn’t seen.
Lady Tannahay directed them onto the terrace; they admired the lights strung through the trees. On hearing it was in part Gerrard’s work, Lady Tannahay complimented him on the effect. “Quite a magical creation.”
Music drifted out from the ballroom, summoning the dancers. Accompanying them back inside, Lady Tannahay halted and smiled. “Well, we’ve done our part for the evening’s entertainment-Gertie Trewarren should be thoroughly grateful. Now we can give ourselves over to amusement-enjoy the rest of your evening, my dears.”
With a gracious nod, she moved away.
Roger Myles pushed through the crowd; grinning, he bowed before Jacqueline. “My dance, fairest one.”
Jacqueline laughed, and gave him her hand.
Gerrard squeezed the hand that lay on his sleeve and leaned closer to whisper, “Come back to me here at the end of the dance.”
She cast him a glance, but nodded. He let her go, and watched Roger gaily claim her attention.
Deciding such light relief was precisely what she needed-what would most effectively lighten her mood-he retreated to the side of the room. All was going as planned, and Lady Tannahay had turned up trumps for them. Noting the many ladies and gentlemen who glanced appraisingly at Jacqueline, he felt confident their strategy was working; after tonight, no one would credit any tale of Jacqueline being involved in Thomas’s death.
Barnaby rolled up while the dancers were still whirling. “Sir Harvey’s a shrewd one-he grasped all I had to say immediately. Like Jacqueline, they’ve already mourned Thomas. They have other children, and want to see this put
