Poppy watched as the magistrate tried to formulate a response to her question.
It was, of course, no surprise that the man would not believe her at first. He probably had family members of accused criminals approaching him with claims of innocence all the time. But in this case, her claim was true.
“I know you must be unwilling to think your sister capable of such a thing, Miss Delamere,” Sir Geoffrey began finally, after a pained look in Langham’s direction, “but I can assure you that we have investigated the matter fully. Now, please, do not overtax yourself with thoughts of such a macabre nature. What your sister needs from you now is—”
“I know she is innocent, Sir Geoffrey,” Poppy interrupted him, doing her best to keep a hold on her patience, “because Violet has a fear of heights. There is no possible way she would have voluntarily climbed the bell tower of St. Lucy’s. To murder her husband or to do anything else.” Really, why did so many men assume that a lady couldn’t possibly know something that they did not?
The magistrate lifted a hand as if to dismiss her. “Fear of heights is hardly proof of innocence, Miss Delamere. It’s entirely possible she was taken there against her will and pushed him off while defending herself. Either way she would still be responsible for his death.”
Before Poppy could object, Langham spoke up. “At this point, her presence with her husband at the top of the bell tower seems to be only conjecture on your part, Stannings. What is the evidence that she was even there?”
The viscount looked uncomfortable. “There are some details I simply cannot share with you, Langham. No matter how I might wish to.”
Turning to Poppy, he said with a sterner attitude, “I really wish that you would leave this matter in the hands of your fiancé and your stepfather, Miss Delamere. It is not the sort of thing a lady should—”
Poppy had had enough. “Sir Geoffrey, I am quite capable of talking about the guilt or innocence of a beloved sister without dissolving like a blancmange left in the rain. The duke has no objections to my hearing your report. Therefore, your own objections are immaterial. Now, please answer my question. What evidence do you have that my sister is guilty of this crime?”
The magistrate’s eyes flashed at her forceful tone, and Poppy was afraid for a moment that she’d gone too far. But she had come to Little Kidding to find out how she might help her sister, and if this man refused to give her even the most basic facts about the case against Violet, then she was sunk before she’d even begun to investigate.
Finally, after a baleful look in Langham’s direction, which the duke returned with merely a raised brow, Stannings said to her, “It was well known among those living in the Short household that Mr. and Mrs. Lovell’s marriage was not a happy one. Indeed, Lord Short himself told the constable that as soon as he learned Mr. Lovell had been found dead, he feared that Violet had finally taken matters into her own hands. He even said that he saw her following Lovell on foot that evening and heard her return later that night. Alone.”
Poppy’s fists clenched. She might have known her stepfather would be behind the accusation against Violet. She wouldn’t be surprised if Lord Short himself was the one responsible for his secretary’s death. Though she had no proof, of course. Not beyond her own distrust of the man.
“Thus far,” Stannings continued, his voice a little calmer now, “your sister has refused to offer any explanation for her husband’s death at all. All we have to go on is your stepfather’s accusation. And as he has an unblemished reputation in the neighborhood, I have no reason to doubt his account of the matter.”
At the description of Lord Short as upstanding, Poppy couldn’t hold back a bitter laugh. It would seem that he’d managed to fool the denizens of Little Kidding in the same way he’d done in so many communities before.
Misinterpreting her reaction, Stannings said with a little stiffness, “I understand you have been estranged from your family, Miss Delamere. Your father said you’d left them without a word a year or so before they moved to Little Kidding. I hope you will not allow an old wound to prevent you from seeing the truth about your sister. It will do her no good for you to offer false hope if she is indeed guilty of her husband’s murder.”
It was only the warm press of Langham’s hand on her shoulder—he’d come to stand behind her, clearly noting that she was nearing the end of her tether with Stannings’s condescension—that kept her from telling the magistrate just what she thought of his advice. He was not the first to be taken in by her stepfather’s smooth manners and congenial attitude. But it was crushing to see that the man who held her sister’s fate in his hands had failed to see Lord Short’s true nature.
“Stepfather,” Langham corrected the other man tersely. Poppy could hear the steel in his voice and drew such comfort from the fact that he was on her side that she could barely breathe. Without him, she’d never have been able to speak to Stannings at all, much less alone in the company of a man who had the power to make the magistrate listen. “And I would take what Lord Short says with a grain of salt. It is not my story to tell, but the man is not what he seems.”
She felt her gut clench at Langham’s hint about Lord Short’s scheming, but she was grateful that he hadn’t gone into detail. She needed to ensure that her sister and mother had somewhere safe to go before Lord Short was brought to justice and they were cast out upon the streets.
“But Miss Delamere has been away from her family for years,” Stannings argued. “Isn’t it possible her sister wanted to marry Lovell and wasn’t forced into it at all? Long separations can mean changes in personality. After all, Miss Delamere, wasn’t your sister only sixteen when you left? She might have become another person entirely while you were gone.”
“I admit that I may not know her as well as I once did,” Poppy said sharply, “but I can tell you this—there is no way that my sister, then or now, would have willingly married a man twice her age. Especially not Mr. Lovell. She dreamt of a match with a handsome young man with, oh, a castle and an estate with rolling hills and a fine carriage. What she did not envision was marriage to a man who took every opportunity to ogle us and was rude to the servants. He was an unpleasant man, and I cannot imagine he changed overly much in the time since I’d left.”
“That’s just girlish notions,” Stannings protested. “I met the man on several occasions, and though he did seem a bit brusque, he was perfectly polite. Certainly, he didn’t deserve to be murdered.”
“She didn’t say he deserved to be murdered,” Langham snapped. “She said he was rude and couldn’t keep his eyes to himself. I will thank you to have more respect for my betrothed. I told her she could trust you, but it seems you are determined to prove me wrong.”
Sir Geoffrey blanched, and Poppy once again felt a rush of relief that Langham was on her side.
* * *
“I am sorry, Miss Delamere, Langham is correct. I didn’t mean to imply you wished Lovell dead.”
It had been a decade or more since Langham had spent more than a few minutes in Stannings’s company, and he couldn’t say that the man’s treatment of Poppy had made him regret it. As a boy, Geoffrey Stannings had been a good-natured, at times mischievous, friend. But as an adult he was a pompous bore.
Just because the magistrate had never witnessed Lovell behaving badly, that didn’t mean it had never happened. Langham knew damned well that some men showed one face to their peers and another to those they considered beneath them. And he had little doubt that Stannings knew it, too.
With a sigh, the magistrate took off his spectacles and began cleaning the lenses with his handkerchief. “I must tell you, however, Miss Delamere, that right now you are the only one who has come forward to speak in your sister’s defense. Although I am sure when I speak with her, she will have a story of her own to tell.”
“Of course I’m the only one who has come forward to defend her,” Poppy said, rising from her chair in agitation. When the magistrate made to stand as well, she waved him back down with a shake of her head. She didn’t care about the proprieties at the moment. “My mother is far too cowed by my stepfather to be an effective champion, and if my stepfather has behaved in Little Kidding as he always has done, then he has prevented Violet from forming attachments with anyone in the village, lest she somehow reveal too much about his own machinations. I doubt she has a single friend here, much less one with enough bravado to defend her against a murder charge.”
Coming to a stop before the fire, Poppy stared down into it with a scowl. Langham wished there was something more he could do to help her. It was clear that her sister’s ordeal was weighing on her. If only they’d been able to—
Something Stannings had just said struck him. “Are you saying that you haven’t spoken at all to Mrs. Lovell about the events on the night of the murder?”
At Langham’s question, Poppy turned to stare at the magistrate. “Is this true?”
Stannings raised his hands in a staying gesture. “I can assure you it’s not unusual at this point for only the constable to have interviewed the accused. I did attempt to speak with your sister this morning, Miss Delamere, but when I called at the grange, she was resting.”
At the other man’s words, Poppy raised her gaze to Langham, but she didn’t address the news. Only nodded.
While there was nothing overtly suspicious about the fact that visitors for Violet had twice been turned away, Langham had a bad feeling about it. He and Poppy would need to return to the grange and try to determine what was going on.
Perhaps deeming the issue resolved, Stannings said, “You’ve both alluded more than once to some misdeeds on your stepfather’s part, Miss Delamere. I wonder if you might be a bit more explicit about his wrongdoings?”
One glance at Poppy’s face revealed that this was a difficult subject for her. He stepped forward to take her hand in his. “You don’t need to tell him anything you don’t wish to,” he said in a voice that only she could hear. “Though I imagine hearing the truth from you will go a long way toward explaining why Lord Short might not be the most credible of witnesses when it comes to casting blame for Mr. Lovell’s murder.”
Her blue eyes were troubled, and he guessed what might be bothering her. “If it’s your mother’s safety, I will make sure she’s protected. She can come here if need be.”
Langham was frankly more worried about what Poppy’s stepfather would do to Poppy if he learned that she’d revealed what she knew about his past crimes. But, unwilling to disquiet her further, he kept that concern to himself.
At his assurances, something in the set of Poppy’s shoulders relaxed a bit, and he knew he’d said the right thing.
“Thank you,” she said in a low voice.
Moving to stand at the other end of the mantelpiece, he gave a nod to Stannings, who had been watching them with undisguised curiosity.
“Lord Short is a confidence man, Sir Geoffrey,” Poppy said, conviction strong in her voice. “From the time that he married my mama when I was four years old, he has made a living by cheating people out of their wealth.”
Stannings glanced from Poppy to Langham then back again. He didn’t bother trying to hide his skepticism. “I understand that you have no fondness for your stepfather, Miss Delamere, but this is a serious accusation. I don’t suppose you have any proof?”
Langham stared at the magistrate in disbelief. Clearly, his warning earlier hadn’t been strong enough.
“Are you calling my betrothed a liar, Stannings?” he asked silkily. “Because if you are—”
The words hung in the air for a moment, like the sound of a rapier being unsheathed.
Stannings must have noted the underlying menace in Langham’s voice, because his denial was immediate and not a little alarmed. “Of course not,” he said hastily. “It’s just that children can often misinterpret their elders’ actions. And it’s possible that Miss Delamere’s dislike for Lord Short colored the way she interpreted his business dealings. And without proof, all we have is her words. Which, while damning, are not enough to convict the fellow in a court of law.”
What Stannings said made some sense. Even so, Langham wasn’t entirely convinced. He was about to say so when Poppy stepped closer and rested a hand on his arm. “You forget I have experience in such things. I understand very well what Mr. Stannings is saying.”
Searching her face for some sign of anxiety, Langham saw there was none. Of course she’d be familiar with the workings of the law and the scrutiny with which witnesses were examined. Her work at The Gazette had made it imperative she understand them. With a nod, he indicated that he’d stay quiet.
Poppy turned back to Stannings and pulled her shawl closer around her. “While I have no documents with which to prove my claim, I did overhear, before I fled for London, a conversation between my stepfather and Mr. Lovell that may shed more light on the situation.”
Poppy hadn’t given him an account of her flight from Lord Short’s household. Langham was more than a little curious to hear it, though he suspected he would only become more irate than ever at the stepfather who’d brought so much chaos into her life.
“In the weeks before I ran,” Poppy said, “my stepfather’s anger at my refusal to agree to Lovell’s proposal grew more and more intense. Over my mother’s objections, he ordered that I would be locked in my bedchamber, and for all my meals to be restricted to the plainest and most unappetizing fare. I was allowed no visitors—not even my sister and mother—save two, himself and Mr. Lovell.”
She must have seen the thunder in Langham’s expression, because Poppy’s next words were for him. “They did not harm me physically. For all his faults, my stepfather drew the line at violence. I suppose I should be grateful for it. It was one of the reasons I was able to leave my mother and sister in his care with some degree of…if not comfort, then without fear, I suppose.”
The duke wondered, given how timid Lady Short had been earlier today, if that had changed since Poppy had run away. But he kept that thought to himself.
“One evening,” Poppy continued, “whether by mistake or on purpose—the servants were not overly fond of Lord Short, and though they never voiced their objections to his treatment of me aloud, I could tell they were uncomfortable with being turned into de facto jailers—the maid failed to secure the locks on my bedchamber door after she removed my dinner tray. I had managed to pack a valise earlier in the week, and seeing my chance for freedom, I took it. I slipped from the room and made my way toward the servants’ stairs.”
“He had no one standing guard at the door?” Stannings asked, once more looking skeptical.
“If he had before,” Poppy said, “there was no one there that night. As I reached the landing on the second floor—where the drawing room, parlor, and Lord Short’s study were located—I saw that the door leading into that hallway was ajar, and I could hear voices. It was my stepfather and Mr. Lovell, and they were arguing.”
Her fists were clenched, and Langham could only imagine how terrified she must have been at the prospect of being found out. It only made him admire her courage even more.
“The gist of their quarrel was this: Mr. Lovell was convinced that their scheme was on the verge of being uncovered by one of the more suspicious members of the investment circle, Lord Twombley. His lordship had written to a friend in the Foreign Office and inquired about the viability of a railway line in the part of South America where Lord Short claimed he would construct it. Lovell was adamant that they should flee to another, larger city so that they could avoid being caught. Especially since the government was now involved.”
“What was your stepfather’s response?” Langham asked with a frown.
“He thought Mr. Lovell’s fears were unfounded. South America was far larger than Lovell realized, he argued, and the odds were against the diplomat having traveled anywhere near the location they’d spoken of.” Poppy shook her head in disgust. “As for Lord Twombley, my stepfather was certain he could handle the man in the event that the fellow from the Foreign Office made him doubt the scheme.”
“How did they leave it?” Stannings asked.
“I do not know,” Poppy said with a frown. “They moved farther down the hall toward my stepfather’s study, and I was able to continue along the servants’ stairs and out the door before anyone saw me.”
“Surely that is enough to convince you, Stannings,” Langham said to the other man. “It isn’t hard evidence, of course, but my brother, Adrian—who, as you know, is in the Foreign Office—may be able to confirm the viability—or lack thereof—of a railway. Or he may be able to recall an inquiry about it around the time that Poppy overheard the argument between her stepfather and Lovell.”
“Since Twombley is now dead, and you don’t know the name of the man he brought his concerns to at the Foreign Office, I’m afraid this isn’t enough,” Stannings protested.
“Dead?” Poppy’s voice had risen an octave, and Langham watched as disappointment washed over her. “Since when?”
“A couple of years ago,” Stannings said, not without sympathy for Poppy’s reaction. “I believe it was a climbing accident near his estate in the Lake District.”
The duke swore. “That’s a bit of coincidence, don’t you think? Two men in the orbit of Lord Short fall to their deaths from great heights?”
“We don’t know that Twombley fell,” Stannings protested. “He might have met with all manner of mishaps in the Cumbrian Mountains. Besides that, we don’t even know that Miss Delamere’s family was still living in the area when Twombley died. It’s all conjecture at this point.”
But when Langham made a sound of impatience, Stannings raised a placating hand. “Very well. I can speak with Lord Short again and see what he will tell me about his previous business dealings. I’ll tell him I am interested in making an investment and that I’d heard he is savvy with financial innovations. But I won’t accuse the man of anything related to Twombley.”
“Thank you, Sir Geoffrey,” Poppy said, her shoulders relaxing a little. But Langham knew she wouldn’t be truly calm until her sister was no longer under suspicion.
With that in mind, he addressed his old friend again. “You will also consider the notion that Short is purposely trying to throw suspicion from himself to his daughter, will you not?” Langham demanded. “The question of Twombley aside, if Short was responsible for Lovell’s demise, it would hardly be the first time a disagreement between partners in crime led to murder.”
“Of course I will consider it,” Sir Geoffrey said with a hint of impatience. “But I can only go where the evidence leads me.”
To Poppy he said, with a little less heat, “I know you are afraid for your sister, Miss Delamere, but I do wish you would leave this matter in your fiancé’s capable hands. Much as you would like to disagree with me, this is not a matter for a lady’s delicate sensibilities. And I cannot help but think it would be better for you to forget your hardships in Lord Short’s household and focus on your future as the Duchess of Langham.”
Rising, Stannings promised to keep them apprised should he learn anything new, then took his leave.
Once they were alone again, Poppy turned to Langham and gave a huff of indignation. “Delicate sensibilities, indeed. I should like to show him just how delicate my boot against his shin can be.”
Despite the seriousness of the situation, Langham bit back a laugh.
“I do not recall Stannings being such a prig when we were children,” he said aloud, still somewhat puzzled at his friend’s transformation. “But aside from the local constable, Mr. Rhodes, he is our best hope of ensuring your sister is freed.”
Poppy sighed. “I know. And I cannot tell you how much that troubles me.
