Page 70 of Garden of Lies

Ursula drank a little more tea and set the cup aside. She got to her feet and went to stand at the window, looking out into the garden.

“I suppose I should thank you for following me to the cemetery this afternoon,” she said.

“That’s not necessary,” Slater said.

She was not certain what to make of his quiet patience. Most men would have been aghast to discover that they were conducting a liaison with a woman who was being blackmailed; one who had been involved in a notorious divorce scandal; a woman who carried a pistol to a meeting with an extortionist.

“I wasn’t going to kill him, you know,” she said after a moment. “Otford wasn’t worth getting myself arrested and hung for murder. But I thought that I might be able to frighten him into leaving me alone.”

“It was a perfectly reasonable plan.”

She glanced at him over her shoulder. “Do you think so?”

“It suffered from the usual problems associated with a spur-of-the-moment strategy but, yes, overall, not a bad plan. It might have worked.”

She found his approval quite cheering.

“I must say you handled him very well,” she said. “A plate of sandwiches and a little money and suddenly he is working for you.”

“He believes that he’s working in his own best interests and that is true in some respects. I have learned that most people are amenable to projects in which they see a personal benefit.”

She smiled. “Do I detect a note of cynicism?”

“I consider myself a realist, Ursula.”

She was almost amused now. “Yet you are the ultimate romantic, Mr. Roxton.”

He appeared to be blindsided by that remark. When he recovered his expression went hard.

“What the devil makes you say that?”

“I am very much afraid that you had the grave misfortune to be born with the spirit of one of the old chivalric heroes, Slater. You employ a ragtag household staff that no one else would hire. You returned to London to guard the inheritance of your two half brothers even though the title and the money should have come to you by right of blood. You do not feel at home here but you stay because of the responsibilities that were thrust upon you. And you insisted on getting involved in what most would call a foolish, utterly ridiculous scheme to investigate a murder because you were afraid I might be in danger.”

He shook his head. “Ursula.”

He stopped, evidently out of words.

“Yes, Slater, I’m afraid you are doomed to play the hero.”

“That’s nonsense.” He got to his feet and crossed the room to stand beside her. “What matters is finding out who slipped the note containing the information about your real identity and your address under Otford’s door.”

“The only person who knew the truth about me—at least as far as I am aware—was Anne Clifton. She must have confided the information to someone in the Fulbrook household. But why would she do that?” Ursula blinked tears out of her eyes. “I trusted her. I thought she was my friend.”

Slater put his arm around her and hugged her close. “Not everyone is worthy of your trust.”

“Don’t you think I know that?” Ursula freed herself from his grasp and hurried across the room to her satchel. She took out a handkerchief and wiped her eyes. “I knew Anne was reckless in some ways but we had so much in common. And it’s difficult to go through life without having at least one other person know the truth about oneself.”

“You were alone and lonely. You took a risk. Things didn’t work out. It’s not the end of the world.”

She gave him a misty smile. “No, it’s not, is it?”

“The real question here is, who did Anne Clifton tell?” Slater began to prowl the room. “Lady Fulbrook, who, in turn, might have confided in her husband?”

Ursula tried to make herself concentrate. “Remember I mentioned that I thought Anne might have been involved in a romantic liaison?”

Slater stopped at the far end of the room and looked at her. “Yes.”

“Perhaps she became Lord Fulbrook’s mistress. Lady Fulbrook said she tried to warn Anne not to get involved with a man who was far above her on the social ladder. If Anne was having an affair with Fulbrook it might explain why she got involved in his drug business.” Ursula paused. “And perhaps it would also explain why she told him the truth about me. She might have felt it safe to confide in a lover.”

---