Page 91 of Murder at the Dinner Party
Poor Lord Whitchurch. “Do you think I had something to do with her moving back there?”
“Quite possibly. You may not have realized it, but she was involved in a battle of wills with you. It was a case of who would give up first. Would you stop digging into the past, or would she be forced to offer up the family secrets? She lost.” Lady Whitchurch smiled. “She hates to lose.”
I considered asking her if she believed the dowager’s claim that Rupert was dead, but decided not to. She seemed so happy that her mother-in-law was leaving her and her husband in peace; I didn’t want to throw cold water on her contentment by suggesting the man she’d loathed, whom she’d almost been forced to marry against her will, might be alive. Of all the people I’d met throughout the investigation, Lord and Lady Whitchurch had not only been amongst the most innocent, they’d also been two of the most sincere.
She walked with me past Mr. Chapman, who politely thanked her and said he hoped to see her again soon while simultaneously managing to give me a glare. There wasn’t a great deal of iciness in it, however. I’d seen him leave his office this morning with Harmony. She was clearly involving him in the wedding arrangements, and I knew she’d make sure he was doing the parts that he loved to do, while she continued with the rest.
Lady Whitchurch eyed her friends, waiting for her in the foyer. “Have you seen the Campbells lately, Miss Fox?”
“No.” Two days ago wasn’t lately, surely. “Why?”
“Lady Campbell was supposed to join me here today, but she sent a message to say she wasn’t feeling up to it. She’s been quite out of sorts this last day or two. I can’t think why. It can’t be the death of her butler, or she’d mention it. Never mind. I’ll call on her tomorrow. She’ll be so surprised when I tell her you’re related to the Bainbridges of the Mayfair Hotel.” She thanked me again and left to join her friends.
I walked back to Flossy. The moment I was within earshot, she and her friends wanted to know who I’d been speaking to.
“Lady Whitchurch,” I said.
Cora Druitt-Poore’s eyes widened. “The one whose brother-in-law went missing years ago?”
“Wasn’t he her former fiancé?” Felicity Digby asked with a smirk and waggle of her eyebrows.
Aunt Lilian’s friend, Mrs. Mannering, told the girls to hush. “How do you know Lady Whitchurch, Miss Fox?”
I was saved from answering by Peter trying to get my attention. I made my excuses and joined him at the post desk. “You want to see me?”
“Not me, Mrs. Short. She’s in her office.”
I knocked on her door then entered upon her summons. “Peter said you wished to see me.”
“I have something for you from my sister.” She opened her desk drawer and removed an envelope. “Your fee.”
I’d already made up my mind I wouldn’t accept it. It wasn’t right. Mrs. Turner and the other staff needed the money more. They could ill afford to pay me. “Please, give it back to her. I can’t accept it.”
She hesitated, staring at me as if trying to get my measure, then lowered the envelope to her desk. “She won’t take it back. Nor should she. She employed you to do a task and you performed it. This belongs to you.” Mrs. Short offered me the envelope again.
“Do you know The Female Servants Benevolent Society on Southampton Row?”
“I do.”
“Would you mind donating it to them, please? I’d prefer not to do it myself. There’s someone staying in one of their rooms who I’d rather not see.”
She picked up her pen and concentrated on her roster chart. “That’ll be much appreciated, I’m sure, although I can’t say it’s good of you to think of them.” This last part, she added in a mutter.
I wasn’t sure if she’d wanted me to hear it or not. “I suspect I won’t like the answer, but do tell me why you think that, Mrs. Short.”
She put down the pen and leveled her gaze with mine. “Giving money to the poor is only a kind deed when a person can ill afford it. Otherwise, it’s one’s duty.”
Clearly, she thought I was an heiress, too. “Good day to you, Mrs. Short.” I turned to go, but stopped at the door. “Do you know, when I first met Mrs. Turner, I only saw the physical resemblance between the two of you and I thought how alike you were? But now that I’ve got to know her a little, I see that you’re very different.”
She picked up her pen again. “Thank you for noticing.”
Perhaps it was just as well that she didn’t understand the insult in my comment.
My uncle hailed me as he emerged from Mr. Hobart’s office. “Good to see you taking an interest in the hotel affairs, Cleopatra.” He nodded at Mrs. Short’s office, then glanced over his shoulder at Mr. Hobart’s. He caught my elbow and drew me away, out of earshot. “Come and see me later. I’ve got your fee for you on my desk.”
“Fee?”
“For helping me with Hobart.”
