Page 31 of Her Impeccable Scoundrel
Jarrow frowned. “The late earl is said to have led a dissipated life, and he was, by all accounts, at the end quite ill with fever. What poison would cause that? Or, if he died from an excess of laudanum, who’s to say he hadn’t dosed himself accidentally?” He shook his head. “The most likely suspect with opportunity would be the nurse. But did she have a motive? She was not remembered in the earl’s will, neither the one signed at the time of the earl’s marriage, nor the new one Diddenton claims exists, and the earl’s death ended her position. She left the day after for London.”
“Before being questioned?”
“Father spoke to her about the earl’s death. Not about the alleged new will though.”
“Diddenton told me there were servants who knew the new will had been signed. The nurse ought to be interviewed about it. Do you have her address in London?”
“No. To that end, I’ve made written inquiries with the usual agencies. With Father’s illness and estate matters, I’ve had to delay a trip to London to search for her. Lunetta Casale. I imagine she wasn’t someone the earl would have found at a regular hiring agency.”
In other words, he would have to visit the brothels. Morley could take on that task. He would write to him immediately.
“If her testimony supports Diddenton’s claim,” Graeme said, “Diddenton will be searching for her as well.”
“I’ve wondered about that. I’ve wondered whether Diddenton’s son, Lord Vernon, might know her whereabouts. By all accounts, he was a regular visitor to Risley Manor.”
“Did your father talk to him?”
“Only briefly when he paid a call. The marquess purchased Wickworth Hall some years ago and the son was staying there.”
“Wickworth Hall?” He vaguely remembered the property from his childhood visits. “Near Bluebelle Lodge?”
“Yes. The estates march alongside each other. You didn’t know?”
Graeme shook his head. “Convenient for him.”
Jarrow eyed him a moment and then went on, “Father spoke to the staff at Risley Manor and searched the house for poisons. None were found. Three of the old servants—including the disappearing valet—had small bequests in the will. The old will, that is. The new one leaves them nothing. But there was no reason to believe the housekeeper, butler, or missing valet poisoned him.”
“And Lady Chilcombe?”
“Father spoke to her that day. She came over from Bluebelle Lodge before the earl passed away but she was never alone with him. In the end, he could not find evidence to accuse her.” He leaned forward. “Certainly, Lady Chilcombe had motive under the terms of the will signed at the time of her marriage. But this business of a new will... Diddenton has written speculating that Lady Chilcombe stole both signed copies of the new will, and might have had something to do with Sir Morris Pierpont’s death as well as her husband’s, so that she could thwart the new will’s provision to cede Bluebelle Lodge to Diddenton.”
“Preposterous.” Graeme rose and stalked to the mantel, staring into the empty hearth, but seeing the fear in Blythe’s eyes. I am not a murderer.
“That is my sentiment as well, Chilcombe.” Jarrow stood and handed him a brandy.
“I’m glad to hear it,” Graeme said. “How did Pierpont die?”
“He overturned his phaeton in bad weather after leaving Risley Manor and smashed his head on a rock. Supposedly, he was carrying the new will, but it was never found among his belongings. Lady Chilcombe had visited her husband just as Sir Morris was leaving and then she returned to Bluebelle Lodge where she was residing.”
“Lady Chilcombe is no murderer.”
“Diddenton is pressing me. I should like to speak to her. Not to accuse her but to better grasp the circumstances.”
Graeme bit back an oath. Hadn’t she been through enough?
Still… she was trying to find her way back into society, and she would have to sway opinion to her side in the matter of the will so she could hold on to her inheritance. Would cooperation be the right path?
“I understand that she has only a brother to support her, and he’s away in the army.”
“As it happens, Lady Chilcombe’s brother has just arrived home on leave. He is staying at Chilcombe House.”
“Then perhaps he may be present when I?—”
“I will support Lady Chilcombe during any inquiry.”
Jarrow gave him a long look and nodded.
Let him think what he wanted. Blythe was his to look after. “I’m not convinced that my cousin was in a state of mind to give due thought to the property matter, or in fact, to understand the contents of a new will. I shall need to see evidence before part of the estate is handed over willy-nilly in breach of Lady Chilcombe’s marriage contract.”
