She had too many unanswered questions in her head. Rather than getting to the bottom of her daughter’s potential indiscretions, she was now faced with the possibility that Octavia Dymchurch herself was involved in a murder. She decided that the sensible thing to do would be to tell Theodore about Mrs Dymchurch and leave him to solve the murder, while she sought to uncover the truth about Charlotte.
Before she got to the door, however, she stopped in her tracks. She spotted another woman that she had not expected to find here; but of course, the guest list was entirely at Mrs Bolton’s discretion, not Lady Purfleet, no matter what she thought.
Mrs Manning caught Adelia’s eye instantly. She had been sitting with another woman, quietly and unobtrusively, but when she saw Adelia she broke into smiles and rose to her feet. They took one another’s hands and cooed greetings at one another in the usual fashion. Pleasantries over with, Adelia joined Mrs Manning as her companion vacated her seat and excused herself.
“I am glad to meet you here,” Adelia said. “I had meant to call as I missed you at Lady Purfleet’s last engagement. She said that you had had a better offer.”
“Did she? How carefully she phrased it,” said Mrs Manning with a throaty laugh but no real humour on her face. Indeed, she looked almost bitter in the downturned twist of her mouth.
“I may be misremembering her words. Her meaning, however, was rather clear. You had displeased her in some way, and the more I learn about her, I wonder exactly where the fault lies. I am inclined to favour your explanation, if you feel able to give it.”
Mrs Manning sat back in the chair, held stiffly straight by her corset. She had an air of insouciant lounging, nonetheless, and an attitude of wearied confidence, almost a masculine demeanour to her pose. Almost to herself, she said, “Seems like she’s losing her grip.” Then she blinked and brought her attention back to Adelia. “The fault lies with her, of course. Can you see her over there? She’s glaring at us both, quite openly – you may as well look back at her as she is not even trying to hide her malevolence.”
Adelia could not resist glancing across the room and it was just as Mrs Manning had said. Lady Purfleet was standing in a group of men and women, and while the conversation flowed around her, she was standing quite still and her high head was above many of the others of lesser height. And she was staring at Mrs Manning with fury on her face.
“Goodness,” said Adelia. “She looks positively warlike.”
“Doesn’t she just? But she has little jurisdiction here. I see she’s chased poor Mrs Dymchurch away.”
“She has. Was that also not Mrs Dymchurch’s fault? What do you think about it all?”
Mrs Manning snorted. “Oh, the things that have been said about Mrs Dymchurch are entirely true, believe me. The woman really was running around with Digby Nettles behind her husband’s back.”
“I see.”
“But she was no common harlot. She was careful, clever and discreet. She had only one lover: him. Why, who among us has not indulged in a little dalliance, here and there?”
“I have not.”
“Really?” Mrs Manning gazed at Adelia for a long moment, as if trying to see into her soul. Adelia kept her face impassive. Eventually, Mrs Manning said, “Well, then. I admire you but I do not understand you; perhaps, if you’ll forgive me, there is a generational thing here.”
“I do not think it’s generational but in fact a matter of the smaller divisions of society,” Adelia said. “This is not my usual sort of gathering and not my usual sort of people.”
“That is true. But you are frank enough to find good company here, should you wish it.”
“I doubt I’ll be enjoying this sort of thing again.”
“Then why are you here?”
“I want to find out all about...” she faltered. She had just resolved to sort Charlotte out, but now she was being drawn back into the investigation once more. Well, it was a chance she had to take. “I want to find out about the art world, and fraud, and theft, and Mr Nettles. And you might be able to help me.”
Mrs Manning frowned. “Oh, you have heard about what happened with my husband, then? That was all her fault, you know. It’s why she doesn’t want me here tonight. Look at her now, speaking with Mrs Bolton, as if she wants to get me thrown out!” Suddenly she leaned forward and grabbed Adelia’s wrist, speaking hurriedly and in a low voice. “It was her. My husband did not care one way or the other about that painting. He did not rate the artist particularly highly and thought that Dulwich had better things to spend its money on. But she put pressure on him to persuade the board to buy the painting. She knew all about it. She wanted it. And then what happened?”
“It was swapped for a fake.”
“Exactly,” Mrs Manning hissed. “You understand! And suddenly the blame falls upon my husband and Mr Hargreaves for insisting the painting was bought. No mention of her part in it all!”
“Hush – here she comes.”
But Lady Purfleet was not coming towards them. She swept past them all and out of the room, and as soon as she had gone, laughter and chattered filled the air again.
“Ha!” said Mrs Manning in triumph. “See how her crown is slipping now!”
“Is she as corrupt as all that?”
“Oh, I doubt you could call her corrupt. No, I am not saying that at all. It’s just that she likes power and control and meddling and manipulating, and people are starting to get tired of it, that’s all.”
“Let me be direct with you. Are you aware of any suspicion around Mr Nettles’ death?”
“Good heavens – no! That would profit no one.”
“It is nothing but a matter of profit then?”
“In
