Page 79 of Ghost in the Garden
“Think about it. After all, we can’t even move here with the peelers strutting about.” Angela rose abruptly and picked an invitation card off the desk. “Caleb was very proud of this,” she said, showing the card to Constance. “Lady Swan invited both of us to her charity ball. Her husband’s the sort of business associate he always wanted, and I was to go with him.”
Perhaps that explained the odd urgency of Angela’s desire to speak better. And the new gown, of course, which would now have to be sacrificed for mourning black. “I’m sorry.”
Angela shook her head. “Don’t be. I’m going to go anyway, in Caleb’s honor, make the large donation he meant to, and it will be twice as touching now I’m so newly widowed.”
Constane blinked. “It will also be twice as shocking. In their world, you would barely leave the house for a year.”
“They won’t accept me anyway, though they’ll grab my money quick enough. I might as well make an impression. And that impression will be better if you come with me to keep me right on manners. It could be your first duty in your new position.”
Constance almost laughed. The idea of her, the notorious courtesan, guiding the steps of the plebian, if not downright underworld, widow through the Society of well-born, rich, and respectable people…
But Angela had no idea how Constance’s presence would embarrass at least some of the gentlemen and outrage all of their wives. She swallowed back her mirth and considered Angela’s whole proposal.
The temptation to string her along was strong—to learn about Lambert’s business while she pretended to think about the offer. But Constance did not have the luxury of time to win the amount of trust that would surely be necessary. Nor did it seem terribly fair play. The woman was at a low ebb, and Constance owed her honesty.
“I don’t need to think about your offer, Mrs. Lambert. I’m grateful and flattered, but I have my own business.”
Angela cast a quick, derisive glance at the door. “You meanhedoes.”
“We are partners.”
“More than that, from what I hear.”
Constance hoped the sudden heat did not show in her face. “A certain amount of subterfuge is necessary in our business.”
Angela waved that aside. “I don’t care about your personal life. I’m talking about my business.”
“And I about mine. I can’t do both, Mrs. Lambert, though I thank you for the offer.”
“I’m disappointed,” Angela said after a moment. She leaned back in her chair. “And yet you came back.”
“I said I would.”
“And there’s your things in my dressing room. I had Goldie pack them up.”
She’d had Goldie go through them. Thank God Constance had kept nothing she’d written down. “Thank you. Mrs. Lambert… You don’t really think Iris Fraser murdered your husband, do you?”
Angela’s face changed. She was no longer the hard-eyed businesswoman but a wrathful goddess. “I know she did. And she’ll pay.”
“You must leave it to the law,” Constance said urgently.
Angela looked away. “I know that. But even they can’t miss. They got an intruder with a motive.”
“And an alibi.”
“Not necessarily,” Angela replied. “But everyone else in the house has got one. You sneaking off into the garden early nearly lost yours, but at least you were withhim. And you know the inspector, don’t you?”
“Harris? Yes, slightly.”
“How’d that come about, then?”
“Accident. He was investigating another crime.”
“Did he solve it?”
Constance met her gaze. “Yes. Don’t underestimate him.”
In fact, he had onlynearlysolved it. It had been Constance and Solomon who found the missing piece of the puzzle via a very risky maneuver. But she needed to warn Angela, who had probably seen her husband run rings around lesser policemen for years.
