Page 71 of The Virtuoso
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“You’ll need it.” Axel held out a snifter of brandy to his guest.
“I’ll not refuse it,” Val said. “Nick has vouched for your kitchen, your cellars, and your hospitality.”
“We are going to have an uncomfortable discussion.” Axel poured himself a drink as he spoke. “I will impugn, or possibly impugn, a lady’s honor.”
“We’re not going to discuss Abby, are we?” Val said, slowly lowering his drink.
“Move over.” Axel settled beside him on the couch facing the hearth and bent to take off his boots. “Feel free to do likewise. You had a bath today, and I have sons.” He fell silent for a moment, staring at his drink. “Abby and Ellen shared a bottle of wine earlier today and certain confidences were parted with. Abby brought them to me.”
“I happened to overhear some of the same conversation, since the ladies were on the balcony adjoining my room,” Val said, watching as Axel set his boots aside. “It gets worse. Ellen has the local solicitor collect the rents then puts every penny into a London account. As the holder of the life estate, she is the landlord and liable for all improvements, and she has made none.”
“What is she doing with the money?” Axel asked, settling in with a sigh. “Hoarding it for eventual flight to the Continent?”
“Could be, or it could be she’s being blackmailed.”
Axel nodded, obviously more than willing to consider this possibility. “For her terrible crime, worse than killing her own husband, whom she professed to love.”
“She did love him, and he loved her, and they should have lived happily ever after. I simply cannot see Ellen as a murderer.”
“Neither can I.” Axel took a sip of his drink. “I still think you should make some inquiries. Find out if the money remains in that London account, for starters. That will tell you whether somebody’s bleeding her or she’s hoarding it. Either way, her behavior points to guilt over something, though I can’t see her as a murderer, either.”
“Why not?” Val let the slow burn of the whiskey take the edge off the need to get away from this conversation and play fast, complicated music far into the night.
“She’s a gardener,” Axel said, contemplating his feet. “She makes things grow; she isn’t a destroyer of life. Every time I see them, her gardens have that look of exuberance. They don’t simply grow, they thrive and glory in her care. Everything I’ve heard of her marriage to Lord Francis suggests he was thriving in her care, as well.”
Val really did not want to hear that. “For example?”
“When I ran into the man at my club, he never tarried in Town but professed to be eager to get home to his wife. He did not vote his seat when she was in anticipation of an interesting event. The birth would have been months away, and he remained in the country with her.”
“Blazes.”Ellenhadcarriedachild?
“They never entertained over the holidays,” Axel recalled, “and the explanation Roxbury offered was he wanted the time to enjoy being with his wife. He was smitten, and one gets the sense she was pleased to be married to him as well. You know the lady better than I.” Axel saluted a little with his drink. “If she loved him, she likely didn’t kill him.”
“She might have inadvertently caused his death, provided a second dose of laudanum when a first had already been given, something like that.”
“A mistake.” Axel nodded agreement. “You are hoping it was a mistake, and so am I. The only reason I am telling you this is because I think Ellen could use a friend.”
“I am her friend. Maybe her only friend.”
“As her friend, you should make those inquiries. Find out what’s to do with that money; maybe dig a little regarding the late baron’s death.”
“I see your point.” Though he hated the idea of rummaging around in Ellen’s past without her knowledge or consent. “How does one dig past loyal solicitors?”
Axel snorted. “Loyal to whom? Not to the widowed baroness, certainly. But if the solicitors do hold the purse strings, they’ve likely held on to the late baron’s staff, as well. You might talk to them, see what they recall.”
“Or send somebody off to talk to them,” Val agreed, a certain someone coming to mind. “Before I go tearing around, violating the woman’s privacy, hadn’t I better stop to ask why I’m going to such an effort?”
“Because you’re smitten.” Axel slouched down, his drink cradled in his lap. “Even if you weren’t smitten, you’re constitutionally unable to ignore a damsel in distress.”
“I can ignore them. I have five sisters.”
“Distress is not a missing hair ribbon. St. Just has told me how careful you were with Winnie last winter, how much time you spent with her. Nicholas reports you dote on little Rose, as well.”
Nicholas and his damnedreporting. “I will concede I have a weakness for the underdog, but ask any man with four older brothers and he’ll tell you the same.”
“You have honor,” Axel said simply. “You do not tolerate injustice, and that is a fine quality in any man—or any man’s son.”
