“You want an explanation about what you think you saw that night,” Charlotte said. She didn’t fidget with her fingers or jiggle her foot. In fact it was obvious that she was making a great effort to remain still. That told Adelia the speech was well-rehearsed. “You saw a man talking with me. I denied it at the time, and I am sorry about that. But, more importantly, you think you saw a man who wore a garment that you associated with the person seen on the steps of Digby Nettles’ house the night he was killed. But as has become obvious, the most plausible suspect in the case is Octavia Dymchurch and she acted out of some fit of jealousy at being a spurned lover. Therefore, there is no connection.”
“About Mrs Dymchurch,” said Adelia. “I told you she was a murderer but I may have exaggerated. She is only a suspect and nothing is proven.”
“She is the main suspect. The only real suspect. It was not Mr Wiseman nor was Mariana da Costa anything to do with it. You told me she was the murderer – why would you exaggerate? Unless, mama, you were deliberately not telling me the truth then. In which case, who owes whom an apology?”
“I did say she was the murderer and I think she could be so it was not a lie.” Adelia had to force herself to answer in a calm manner. Charlotte was infuriating. “But we must also think of Lady Purfleet...”
“She is unlikely to be the perpetrator in spite of what Mr Wiseman has said, and you yourself believe. She is involved in other things but not this. However, I accept there are questions to be answered and no doubt when Octavia comes to dinner tomorrow, you will finally get your answers and we can all move on from this.”
Adelia nodded. “I hope so, yes.”
“Robert has already decided we are to drop the matter and I must support him in that.”
“Must you?”
Charlotte looked horrified. “Of course. As you support papa in all things.”
Adelia laughed. “You are stupid if you think that. Look again. But enough of that. Let me check; are you still sure you want to have this ... this potential murderess under your roof?”
Charlotte rolled her eyes. “Mama. Is she, isn’t she? I don’t know any more. I’m doing this for you and your stubbornness and she is no threat to any of us, is she? In fact...”
“What? Oh, Charlotte!”
“Mama! I cannot lie to you.” Charlotte’s haughty demeanour waved and then dropped. She grinned, in the most natural way she had done for some time. Adelia realised how much of an act her daughter had been maintaining not just in public, where it was expected, but also in private. “Isn’t the whole thing just slightly thrilling? In many years’ time, this would be an awfully exciting tale to tell my children and grandchildren. I shall shock them completely.”
“Speaking of children...”
“We were not speaking of children. We were speaking of this friend of mine. The person in the cloak.”
“Ah yes. Please do go on.” Adelia felt as if she were the child being remonstrated with by an adult, as if she were the one instigating the whirlwind changes of topic. She ate more cake to compensate.
“You did see me speaking with a man, as I said. We conversed on the street and we spoke at the back door of the house. You saw what you saw. You were not deceived by your eyes. I apologise that I panicked in the heat of the moment.”
“Oh, Charlotte.”
“You need not sound so disappointed! You should be relieved that you were not imagining things and I am sorry that you might have doubted yourself. Anyway, there is nothing to any of this. Robert knows him too and he’s perfectly respectable. Well, no, he’s not, not exactly. Look, mama, isn’t it obvious?” She paused. With another heavy sigh, her lightness now gone in a whiplash flash, she said, “That man was Lord H, our secret artist.”
“Charlotte! You should have told me straight away and that would have absolved you of all this suspicion.”
Charlotte laughed with no humour, a dry and mocking one. “Really, mama? Would it have?”
Adelia thought about it for a little longer. “Actually, no, you are quite right. I am still suspicious. Why is he sneaking around like this? Why can you not tell me who he is? I shan’t breathe a word to a single soul. What is it to me? And what was he doing on the steps of Mr Nettles’ house? Oh! Oh, Charlotte, no, say it is not true!” A new revelation came to her then.
“Say what?”
“He is the murderer, isn’t he? It is not Octavia at all. He did it, and he is a close friend of yours, and you are protecting him! And that is why you and Robert are now so keen that we drop the investigation. Oh, Charlotte, whatever are we to do?”
Charlotte burst out laughing in a genuine way this time. “No, mama, that is a fine story indeed but utterly wrong.”
“Have you proof?”
“Well, no, but we know him rather well.”
“That means nothing. We must tell your father at once.” Adelia leaped to her feet.
“Mama, sit down! You can tell papa nothing of this.”
“Why?”
“It’s difficult.”
“The longer that secrets are held, the more difficult it becomes. Take it from me.” Adelia swept out of the room, and ignored Charlotte’s pleas from behind.
SHE WAS ACCOSTED BY a maid who bobbed and curtseyed in an awkward way. “Are you At Home, my lady?”
“It is not my house, so no. Has someone called for me?”
“Two ladies, my lady. No, I mean, one lady and one other lady. Separately. One went away when she was asked to wait and the other
