Page 20 of Snowbound with the Scoundrel
He laughed, taking her comment in stride.“I know what you’re thinking.Yes, I’m that horrible fellow.”
Clarissa lowered her voice and tried to make her expression wry, even though her heart was pounding.“Is it not awkward for you to be in the same room with Mr.Baxter, the great champion of parliamentary reform?”
He took a sip of his wine.“It was my father’s idea, buying me the Dunwich seat.I hadn’t thought to stand for Parliament, but that was the career he set out for me.I’ve taken to it more than I thought, and I’ve tried to do a decent job.But privately, I agree with Baxter, and if he manages to get his bill up for a vote, I plan on supporting it.”
Clarissa gave him an incredulous look.“You would vote yourself out of office?”
He inclined his head, seeming unperturbed.“Quite possibly.My father would be furious.Although, who knows—I think I’ve acquitted myself better than a lot of the men in Parliament.Perhaps I could win an election on my own merits.And if I can’t”—he shrugged—“then I suppose I don’t deserve to be there after all.”
“My gracious, Mr.Garroway—what a noble sentiment!Not at all what I was expecting from the representative fromDunwich.”
He leaned in close.“I pray you won’t tell anyone.It would quite ruin my reputation.”
The conversation moved on.By the end of the evening, Clarissa had not struck Mr.Garroway from her list of suspects entirely.There was always the possibility that he was lying.
But her instincts told her that he was sincere.She would still keep an eye on him.
But it was time to shift her focus to the next name on her list.
Chapter9
The following morning, Rosalind Baxter exited the breakfast room just as Clarissa was about to enter it.
“Mrs.Baxter,” Clarissa said, stepping into her path, “I apologize for the imposition, but could I speak with you and your husband privately?The situation is urgent.”
Comprehension flared in Mrs.Baxter’s eyes.“My husband was just finishing his coffee.I will bring him to you.Where shall we meet?”
“The orangery,” Clarissa said quickly.“I doubt anyone will be in there this time of the morning.”
Mrs.Baxter nodded tightly, and Clarissa headed for the back gardens.
The orangery was a lovely building set on a picturesque rise on the far side of the garden.Its architectural style echoed that of the castle, with faux towers on the corners and crenellations on the roof.A covered walkway connected it to the main castle, and Clarissa was grateful that it did, as eight inches of snow had fallen overnight, and she was wearing a pair of slippers borrowed from Lady Emily rather than her own sturdy half boots.
Even after so short a walk, stepping into the warmth of the orangery was a relief.A quick lap around the building confirmed it was deserted.She was just admiring the sweet scent of a lemon tree in bloom when she heard the glass door swing open.
Clarissa hurried over.“Mrs.Baxter, Mr.Baxter, thank you for taking the time to speak with me.I have news for you from Bow Street and the Home Office.”
She led them to a cluster of chairs beneath the glass dome at the center of the orangery’s ceiling.Once everyone was settled, she handed Mr.Baxter the letter from Sir Henry.Mrs.Baxter leaned in, reading over her husband’s shoulder.
“I knew it!”Mrs.Baxter exclaimed.“Did I not tell you that—”
“Hush, Rosalind,” he said, holding his hand palm out.“Let me read.”
Mrs.Baxter quieted but shifted anxiously in her seat as they finished reading the letter.
“Well,” Mr.Baxter said once he was done, “that certainly is concerning.Arsenic in the soup!That suggests that whoever is behind this managed to infiltrate our household.”
Mrs.Baxter wrung her gloved hands.“All of the servants have been with us for years.I can’t believe it would be any of them.Do you think it could be someone at the butcher’s shop, or perhaps the greengrocer—”
“That is one point of comfort,” Mr.Baxter said, bowling over his wife.“That whoever is behind this, they remained in London.”
“But how can we be sure?”Mrs.Baxter asked.
“Well, the only servants we brought up with us are your maid and my valet.Surely you don’t think it was Lydia or Pritchard?”
“Gracious, no!”Mrs.Baxter cried.“They are the last two I would ever suspect.But—”
He held out a palm.“No buts, darling.You’ve been so anxious about this situation, and I must now admit that there seems to be something to your concerns.But we’re safe here.I want you to rest and enjoy the Christmas season.”
