Page 3 of Evidence of Evil
“She fears it, which is why she has asked for my help. And I am asking for yours, if you can spare a week from your busy schedule.”
Solomon sipped his tea and regarded her. Her gaze was limpid and innocent. Too innocent.
“And?” he said steadily.
Constance set down her cup and saucer. “Well, naturally, I wrote back that I would happily go down to Sussex and stay with her while we sorted it all out. I also said I might bring a friend who is good at such puzzles as this. She immediately replied that my friend was welcome too, but that for the sake of respectability, since my friend is male, she told her husband that we are married.”
No doubt his jaw dropped at that.
“You must see it from her point of view,” Constance said hastily. “All her connections must at least appear to be of the utmost respectability. A woman—even a widow—traveling in the sole company of a man unrelated to her would not be remotely respectable.”
He regarded her with fascination. “But an unmarried woman traveling as the pretended wife of an unmarried manisrespectable?”
“My dear Solomon, even you know respectability is all about appearance, not fact.”
“And you are…comfortable with appearing to be my wife?”
She picked up her cup and saucer again and took another sip of tea. “Well, at least we are friends, and we are unlikely to meet anyone we know. The Maules and their neighbors are all very much country people, not London gadabouts. There is a train tomorrow morning.”
“I would rather travel by coach.”
“It will take twice as long,” she objected.
“Then I am prepared to leave this afternoon. I shall call for you at two of the clock.”
“In broad daylight?” she mocked. “Mr. Grey!”
He bowed. “Mrs. Grey. Apparently.”
*
Although it wastempting to show Solomon the tasteful, understated comfort in which she lived, Constance elected to spare him the humiliation of entering a brothel and lurked in the entrance hall with her bags. She owed him that much for agreeing to come.
“You stepping out wif someone, Mrs. S?” asked Hildie cheerfully as she flicked her feather duster over the unlit gas lamps. She wanted to be a housemaid.
“No, I’m going into the country to stay with an old friend. Barbara’s in charge while I’m gone, so no impudence.”
Hildie grinned. “Me, Mrs. S?”
“Carriage, ma’am,” said Joseph the footman, striding from his cubbyhole where he’d been watching out of the window. “Bang-up it is, too. Beautiful horses.” He hefted her bags and strode out of the house while Hildie opened the front door for her.
Solomon, ever the perfect gentleman, stepped down from the carriage to hand Constance inside. She was sure Hildie goggled from inside, though Joseph was busy stowing the luggage.
“How long are we staying?” Solomon inquired. “A month?”
“Don’t be facetious. I shan’t know what I shall need until we get there.”
“Are you not taking a maid?”
“I doubt the Maule household is ready for Janey.”
He climbed back in and closed the door then sat opposite her, with his back to the horses. “Why not?” The horses set out at a brisk trot.
“She swears like a trooper and slaps anyone who gets in her way. I taught her everything I know.”
He regarded her with amused disbelief until she entertained him with a few of Janey’s more exquisite curses. She was encouraged to see his eyes laugh rather than turn blank with distaste. She stopped before disgust could set in.
“So, explain to me how long we have been married and where we met,” he said.
