Page 25 of Murder at Madame Chambon's
“Good Lord, Lily, what don’t you know about all this?”
“Lord Dunstable’s real motivation in marrying a brothel-madam’s daughter—though I imagine that, of course, it would be money.”She paused.“And, of course, the identity of the killer.”For a long time she stared out of the window at the passing landscape: the darkened buildings, the ragged children that darted around street corners and into alleys.“And I believe if we could confirm the answer to the first part of this—since Madame seems to have been coerced into agreeing, despite the fact Lord Dunstable had all the right credentials--it might shine a light on the second.I certainly don’t believe Madame Chambon killed the man who offered her daughter what she’s always wanted: respectability for her progeny.Yet she is, as will no doubt be splashed about the papers tomorrow, the prime suspect.And I fear what it will do to Miss Tarot to learn of her lineage this way.Thank goodness the pair have never been seen in public.”
Hamish considered this.“It’s possible a photograph of Madame Chambon does not exist in the public domain.But it won’t be long before it does.”
“Then it must be kept away from Miss Tarot.”
Hamish frowned, but his tone was fond.“You’ve decided to champion the young woman?”
A shudder went through Lily as she recalled Madame’s beseeching tone when she made her request of Lily.“I know the excoriating feeling of having one’s character stained when one is blameless.I know what it is to fall so far you can’t fall any further.That young woman has been brought up believing she’s the daughter of two respectable, estranged parents, her father an aristocrat.She expects to make a glittering marriage.And perhaps she still can if the truth does not emerge.That is what I hope to prevent.”
“The truth coming out?”Hamish shook his head.“How can it not, as the investigation proceeds?”He took her hand.“My dear, your motives are honorable, and I understand your sense of injustice and your hope that what you experienced will not be visited upon innocent Miss Tarot.But there is one great difference between you, and I fear that is what will condemn Miss Tarot’s marital dreams to the dustbin.”
Lily looked at him enquiringly and he answered: “The truth.You were – in truth – the daughter of an aristocrat and then the wife of an aristocrat.”He shook his head, his expression sympathetic.“Miss Tarot is not.”
As they satacross the dining table with her father, Lord Lambton, later that evening, Lily and Hamish found him surprisingly well informed.
“Terrible business,” he said as the dessert was put in front of them.“In a house of assignation, no less.A good thing he has no wife to consider.The man was a blackguard, no doubt about it.”Lord Lambton put down his wineglass and levelled a beetling look at his daughter and son-in-law.
“What did you know of him, Papa?”Lily asked.
“More than I needed.He’d run through his inheritance.Was no doubt looking for a rich wife.Lucky no woman succumbed to his lures, is all I can say.”
Lily exchanged a glance with her husband.Although her father wasn’t up with all the latest gossip, it was a comfort to know that Lord Dunstable’s betrothal was not common knowledge.
“Did you know Lord Dunstable well?”Lily asked.It was only during the past eighteen months that she herself had discovered her real father and there was still so much to learn about him.
“He went to my club.Didn’t know him well, though.Only the whispers about him.About the gambling… the women… But let’s change the subject, shall we, since his murder is gruesome, and you have no interest in the man.”
Lily was relieved when Hamish interjected, “Ah, now you’ve said the very thing to whip up the interest of a newspaperman.”His smile hid the deep curiosity Lily knew he felt.“Secrets?Everyone wants to learn secrets, especially if the man who holds them has just been murdered.Perhaps those secrets point to the identity of the murderer.”
“I thought the murderer had already been charged.”
Lily leaned forward.“And who might that be?”she asked without thinking, for her father’s expression closed over and he glanced at Hamish.Of course, her father would not speak of a brothel madam in his daughter’s presence.
“I think it’s time I left you gentlemen to your port,” she said, rising, nodding to her father.“I have some needlework waiting for me in the drawing room.”
Hamish would have to quiz Lord Lambton like the professional he was.Of course Lord Lambton knew the boundaries of what could be spoken about in front of gently reared women and although he knew of Lily’s spiritualist phase, as it was what had united them, he certainly did not know she’d been housed by Madame Chambon.
Nor, of course, did he know that Lord Dunstable had become betrothed to Madame Chambon’s daughter.
Although his reunion with Lily had been the greatest joy of his life, following the death of what he believed was his only daughter, there were some things, Lily knew, that he could never reconcile.
And the full truth was one of them.
Chapter12
William had never woken with such feelings of hope and expectation.
He had found the woman of his dreams.
No, he had been reunited with the woman of his dreams.Shocking and terrible though the train crash had been, divine intervention had been at play—if one believed in such a thing.
Admittedly, he’d been cast low by the knowledge that Miss Tarot was all but engaged to Lord Dunstable.
But that had not been made public and perhaps never would if the feelings he suspected Miss Tarot harbored for William could be coaxed into a more robust affirmation that he, William, Lord Bellingham, was the husband for her.Not Lord Dunstable.
“Morning, m’lord.Your newspaper.”
