“Why is she coming?” Vi asked.
“No one has an alternative set up where you are pretending to volunteer at an orphanage, complete with a woman who tells your father how helpful you are, if you don’t have something to hide. She’s coming because I told her to come, or I would reveal the lie.”
Violet frowned at Smith and then asked, “Who do you think killed Meyers?”
“I’d have placed my bet on the old woman, but it doesn’t quite add up. It could be because we don’t know why she was looking for Jason Meyers, or it could be because there was another motivating factor that we aren’t aware of.”
“I don’t see how she had any true affection for him given what we’ve learned,” Violet said. “You’ve talked to her. That trio of siblings weren’t worthy of the disdain they received from their grandmother.”
“You only talked to them for a few minutes, Vi. Don’t jump to conclusions based off of that.”
“You think that trio of siblings who can’t talk about their puppy loves without blushing somehow snuck into their grandmother’s house, knew where to find the knife, stabbed their cousin, snuck back out of the house, and then returned to the theater to watch that silent picture?”
Smith grinned at her. “Maybe if it were my siblings.”
Vi stared, mouth open. “There are more of you?”
He shrugged and lifted a brow, not answering.
Vi turned to Beatrice. “Are there more of him? Perhaps three that ride horses?”
Beatrice laughed. “You mean his sisters, War, Pestilence, and Death?”
“Does that mean that Smith is conquest?” Rita demanded. She turned her gaze to look at him, smirked, and then said, “I can see that. I want another G&T.”
“Oooh, me too,” Lila called. She had propped her feet up on the table in front of her, folded her arms over her chest, and watched the others through half-open eyes.
“Lila,” Kate started, but Lila waved her off before Kate could finish the scolding.
“It’s a day of indulgences,” Lila said firmly and then hiccupped again. “The largest problem I have with this day is that I’m not wearing pajamas and a robe.”
“You can soon,” Kate countered, “when you need to sleep off all of that gin.”
Lila grinned, hiccupped, and said, “That does sound lovely. I definitely need another G&T.”
Rita returned with a drink for them both just as the doorbell rang. She took a seat and leaned back. “Who is this again?”
“The heiress who apparently everyone wants to marry.” Smith glanced at Beatrice. “I believe it’s the money.”
There was a knock on the door and Hargreaves showed the woman in and said, “I’ll bring in fresh tea, ma’am.”
“We need coffee too,” Kate said, turning emphatic eyes towards Lila, who was swirling her G&T and then grinning widely at Hargreaves, shooting him a lazy wink.
“Ah, of course,” Hargreaves answered smoothly. “May I present Miss Sinclair.”
Hargreaves stepped back and left the room. Miss Sinclair’s gaze landed on Vi, moved to Smith and then she scowled.
“She doesn’t like you,” Lila told Smith too loudly.
“We’re sorry,” Kate cut in, still looking after the rest of them. “She’s a little intoxicated.”
“I am not,” Lila called.
“Neither am I,” Rita seconded.
Miss Sinclair looked from person to person and then took the seat Violet invited her to. The poor woman had a flush on her cheeks, and Vi wasn’t sure if it was because of anger, embarrassment, or disgust.
“Tea?” Vi offered. “Cake?”
“No,” Miss Sinclair snapped. She cleared her throat. “Mr. Smith insisted I come. I wouldn’t have without his…unique pressure.”
“Blackmail is ugly,” Lila said and then laughed, “but effective.”
“I am not here to be insulted.” Miss Sinclair looked between them. “Except for that fiend, the rest of us are modern women who understand that not everyone appreciates the independence that is our due. My…choices…are of no concern to anyone but myself.”
“None of us disagree with your decision to take some measure of freedom for yourself,” Vi assured her. “Not even Smith. But there has been a murder.” Violet cut Miss Sinclair a piece of cake just to give the poor woman something to do with her hands. “Your name was linked to Mr. Meyers, and now he is dead.”
Miss Sinclair took the cake, placed it carefully on her knee, and waited. There was something of a challenge in her gaze and a firm look in her eyes. This wasn’t a woman who would just volunteer information.
Vi tried. “Your father was concerned that you would marry Mr. Meyers?”
When Miss Sinclair simply lifted a brow, Smith cleared his throat. The implicit threat of the noise surprised Vi. Not that Smith was being threatening, of course, but that he was able to convey it with such a simple noise.
Miss Sinclair paused, her objections as clear as her internal calculations. “I don’t appreciate sharing my secrets.”
“You don’t have an alibi the night Mr. Meyers was killed, Miss Sinclair. You were supposed to be spending the evening with the Watkins siblings among others, but you weren’t.” Before Miss Sinclair could reveal her anger, Vi added, “However, none of us care about your secrets. I promise you as long as they don’t have anything to do with the murder, we will keep them to ourselves.”
“Even if they’re scandalous?”
Lila snorted. “Smith is our friend. We won’t be shocked.”
Miss Sinclair surprised them all with a hint of humor and then pressed her lips together. Her dislike of revealing her secret was clear, but she slowly said, “I have a lover.”
“Were you with him when Mr. Meyers died?”
Miss Sinclair breathed in slowly and held her breath. That calculation was running through her mind again, and she wasn’t convinced the revelation was worth the potential consequence.
“Miss Sinclair,” Vi said, “we are not Scotland Yard. We don’t owe anything to your
