Page 36 of A Murder, a Marquess, and Miss Mifford
Emily blushed a little, as her treacherous mind travelled slightly off course, to wonder what else lay beneath Lord Chambers' tailored shirt--a thought unworthy of a vicar's daughter, but rather exciting, nonetheless.
She cleared her throat, shifted her weight on the bench, and attempted to bring her attention back to the present. She did not have much time and she could not waste any precious minutes mooning over Lord Chambers--she needed to find Ethel!
As though summoned by her very thoughts, a reed-thin figure dressed in black appeared at the far gate to the park--Ethel!
Emily held her breath as the former lady's maid cast a fearful look over her shoulder--as though worried that someone was following her--and dashed across the park to the far gate. Not wishing to lose sight of her, Emily rose from her seat and followed behind at a discreet distance, pulling her mob-cap low over her eyes to further disguise herself.
Ethel moved fast, ducking and weaving so quickly through the other pedestrians on Bruton Street, that Emily nearly lost sight of her several times. At last, she slowed somewhat, and turned into the old graveyard of St George's Church, on Hanover Square.
Though it was not a large graveyard, the towering, old headstones of bishops and clergy long passed, offered Emily some cover, as she followed Ethel on her path.
Ethel's progress was definite, indicating that she knew exactly where she was going and not simply taking a morning jaunt, and for a moment Emily wondered if she was, in fact, going to visit the grave of a relative or friend.
A call of hello, however, indicated that the friend Ethel was visiting was very much alive.
Emily came to a halt, hidden from view by a towering granite tablet, decorated with a macabre skull and crossbones--a popularmemento morifrom the previous century, to remind all who passed that death would come to them too.
She gingerly poked her head out from behind her hiding place, to see where Ethel had got to--for the graveyard had fallen silent--and when she caught sight of her target, she had to clap a hand over her mouth to keep from gasping.
Ethel was sharing a tender embrace with none other than Sir Cadogan!
Emily quickly ducked back behind the headstone, as she grappled with what she had just witnessed. Two of the main suspects in the murder investigation were lovers! Lord Chambers had been correct to suspect Ethel, all along.
"You kept me waiting."
Emily stilled as Sir Cadogan spoke, the pair had obviously broken apart from their embrace.
"I'm sorry, but it's impossible to escape that awful woman," Ethel replied, her tone annoyed, "She follows me everywhere like a shadow, and behind her is her own shadow, Mrs Wickling. A more noxious pair I have ever known; they're constantly complaining about the food, the draught, and the staff. Everything annoys them, they are never happy."
"Ask them to leave, then," Sir Cadogan replied, irritably, "You have spent a lifetime serving cantankerous women, I don't see why you should continue to do so now."
There was a pause, during which Emily held her breath as she waited for them to continue. The graveyard was so quiet, that any sound she made would surely be noticed. The skull and crossbones which adorned the headstone, looked more menacing than ever as she waited for Ethel to make her reply.
"Mrs Canards is right on one score," came her eventual answer, "I am a woman of great fortune, alone in the world. If I cannot have the protection of a husband in my home, at least I have the protection of two vipers."
"Ethel," Sir Cadogan chided, "Not this again; you know I want to marry you. We just have to wait, though. If that ruddy marquess had not poked his nose in where it wasn't wanted, and accused me of murdering Lady Hardthistle, we'd already be wed. Even you have to admit how suspicious it looks..."
"No more suspicious than that wretched Miss Mifford wishing death upon her ladyship mere moments before she died," Ethel retorted, followed by a wistful sigh, "I cannot wait forever, Stanley..."
"Nor can I, my love."
Emily's ears were then assaulted by the sound of moans of passion from the pair, which set her stomach churning. What a wretched couple they were--and how silly Ethel was, to not suspect Sir Cadogan at all when he was quite obviously the murderer!
Careful not to make too much noise, Emily traced her path back through the scattering of headstones, and down the steps back to Barton Street. She had achieved what she had set out to do, but now she was left with more questions than answers.
How could she prove that Sir Cadogan was the murderer? She would have to confront him with what she knew, and draw a confession from him.
Despite the seriousness of the situation, the very idea that Emily could frighten a confession from a grown man gave her cause to laugh out loud--earning herself a few strange looks from her fellow pedestrians.
Blushing, she cast her eyes back to the ground, and continued on her path back to Berkley Square. She would have to enrol Lord Chambers' help, she realised, if she was to extract a confession from the squire. But could she explain how she had discovered the identity of Ethel's lover, when the marquess had expressly forbid her to go spying?
It was a conundrum, but one which was to be soon solved. As Emily turned off Barton Street, back onto Berkley Square, a grand carriage bearing an unfamiliar coat of arms drew up beside her.
The covering upon the window snapped up, revealing a very unhappy looking Lord Chambers, who leaned forward, opened the door, and gestured for her to climb in.
She was, Emily realised, in trouble.
Chapter Ten
