Page 61 of Temptress in Disguise
“Mr Chance.” Kendrick blinked and almost choked on his own spittle. “Good heavens. You gave me a fright.”
“From what I hear, you have every reason to be nervous.” Aramis dragged a chair from the adjacent table and reluctantly sat beside Miss Gray. “I’m sure you won’t mind if we join you.”
The actress—a term she embodied—ran her tongue over her bottom lip and shuffled closer. “How good it is to see you again, Mr Chance. I had a sense our paths would cross.”
“Did you? I had no intention of seeing either of you again.”
Unaffected by his abrupt manner, Miss Gray slipped her hand beneath the round oak table, her fingers settling on his knee. “And yet here you are, sir, unable to stay away.”
He jerked his leg from Miss Gray’s reach and would have told the woman to keep her damn hands to herself had Naomi not intervened.
“We’re merely following the evidence.” Naomi’s voice was as cold as a winter’s frost. Her icy glare could freeze the Thames. “Touch my husband again, Matilda, and you will find me in the pit tonight, ready to pelt you with rotten tomatoes.”
Warmth filled Aramis’ chest.
He liked this unexpected flash of jealousy.
Miss Gray tutted as if life were unfair. “It may surprise you to learn everyone enjoyed my performance last night.”
Naomi snorted. “If they want to see you perform again, they’ll have to visit you in Newgate. I wonder if you’ll lose the bravado when the hangman escorts you to the scaffold.”
Kendrick’s hand shook as he reached for his tankard. “The scaffold? I can vouch for Miss Gray and say with the utmost certainty that she did not kill Mr Budworth.”
“And I believe you,” Aramis said, shocking the fellow.
“Then what is this about?”
“It’s about the person you met here on the night of Budworth’s murder.” He recalled Mrs Boyle’s statement about the menacing man she saw in the alley. “Do you want to make this easy and tell us his name, or would you prefer I drag the truth from your lying lips?”
Miss Gray looked at Kendrick and shook her head by way of a warning. “We spent the night alone, reading the script.”
“We’ve a meeting at Bow Street this afternoon and intend to put your names forward as potential suspects,” Naomi said, applying a little more pressure. “Sergeant Maitland is incompetent and desperate to punish someone for the crime. Unless you can provide us with additional evidence, we’ll have no choice but to make a case against you.”
Kendrick shifted in the seat. After a wrestle with his conscience, he sighed and turned to Miss Gray. “This is all your fault.”
“Mine?” Miss Gray snarled indignantly. “I don’t see how. You gave him the key. I simply had the misfortune of sitting at the same table.”
“You told him I had the key. All because you dreamed of rising up the ranks. If anyone is to blame for this sorry situation?—”
“I want his name,” Aramis interjected, tired of this Punch and Judy show. “And I want it now, else you’ll wish you were never born.”
Kendrick froze. “If I do that, we’ll all be thrown to the gutter. Do you know how hard I’ve worked to build a reputation? No man in London can play Leonato with my skill.”
Miss Gray added her tuppence worth. “We can’t tell you his name. He’s the only hope we have of saving the theatre. We’ll struggle to find work elsewhere. No one will hire us while there’s a murderer on the loose.”
Kendrick slapped his palm to his forehead. “For the love of God, Matilda. An imbecile could determine the rest. You’ve as good as told them.”
The man was right. Who else but Edwin Budworth could have met them in the Dog and Duck that night? “Yet you didn’t give Edwin Budworth the key. You accompanied him to the Belldrake.”
“On my sweet mother’s grave, we didn’t enter the building,” Miss Gray blurted. “We opened the side door and left the man in the alley.”
As Miss Gray had a tongue as loose as a bawd’s drawers, Aramis pressed harder. “If Edwin killed his brother, that makes you an accessory to murder. You heard the manager make advances towards my wife and decided to punish your lover. You wanted the role of Hero and sought to eliminate the competition by casting the blame elsewhere.”
“What? No!”
“You told us Edwin wanted to sell the theatre. Now you tell a different tale. You’re a liar, Miss Gray. A jury will see through your facade and declare you guilty.”
The lady choked on a sob. Much to Aramis’ chagrin, she grabbed his coat sleeve. “Miss Fontaine told me Edwin wanted to sell the theatre. She was trying to persuade him otherwise, using her womanly wiles to win his favour. That’s what he was doing in her private dressing room. That’s the excuse she gave for his frequent visits.” Miss Gray slapped her hand to her heart. “Good Lord! What if Lydia isn’t missing and Edwin has murdered her too?”
