Page 16 of A Body, A Baron, and Miss Mifford
Eudora whirled on her slipper and found the baron standing just inside the doorway. His face wore a mischievous smile, and Eudora knew that she had been correct in thinking he would support her.
“Are we about to go against Northcott’s expressed wish to leave the investigating up to him?” Lord Delaney queried with a grin as he strode toward her.
For a moment, Eudora was tongue-tied - a little overcome by his masculine energy and zeal - and she simply nodded dumbly.
“Er, yes,” she said, clearing her throat in an attempt to sound composed, “I hope that you will help me?”
“I’m hurt that you’d even doubt that,” Lord Delaney replied, his brown eyes holding hers for a fraction longer than necessary.
“No,” she assured him, “I didn’t doubt you for a second. You’re the only person here who treats me as an equal - I can’t understand why, but I am glad of it.”
There was a pause in which an amused smile played at the corners of the baron’s generous mouth.
“I have four sisters,” Lord Delaney explained, cheerfully, “All older than I. I know something of being ignored by older siblings.”
“B-but,” Eudora stuttered, confused, “You are a man - a baron!”
“To the outside world, yes,” Lord Delaney agreed, still cheerful, “But to my sisters, I shall always be their little Bobikins.”
Despite the stab of camaraderie she felt, Eudora could not help but laugh at the idea of anyone referring to the towering baron as Bobikins. Poor Lord Delaney’s expression quickly turned to slight panic at her amusement.
“I do hope that you will not betray my confidence by adopting the moniker,” he said humbly, “For I am as pleased as you to find someone who speaks to me as an equal.”
“Of course not, my lord,” Eudora rushed to assure him.
“You may call me Robert if it pleases you,” he continued, with another mischievous smile, “Just not Bobikins.”
Eudora flushed at the very idea of using the baron’s given name, for it felt far too intimate. Manners, however, dictated that she also extend him the same courtesy.
“You may call me Eudora if you wish,” she replied before hastily moving on to the matter at hand, “Now, tell me what you found - if anything - in Lord Albermay’s bedchamber.”
Lord Delaney gave a - much redacted, Eudora guessed - outline of what he had seen. The viscount had been stabbed in the neck with an inconspicuous kitchen knife. There were no clues whatsoever, bar the plate of crackers and cheese.
“If we can find the footman who delivered it, then we will have a better idea of what time Lord Albermay was last seen alive,” he finished.
“I can ask in the kitchen,” Eudora offered, “I’m acquainted with the scullery maid, Flora, from the village. Then we just need to compile a list of the people with the most motive for killing Lord Albermay.”
“Well, his son is top of my list,” Lord Delaney replied, “What better motive to kill a man than money?”
“That’s true,” Eudora agreed, as she recalled the previous evening, “And Jane did say that he had argued with his father when he arrived. What about Lord Percival? He has held a grudge against Lord Albermay for half a century - perhaps last night, he finally snapped?”
She glanced at the baron to see if he agreed with her and saw that he was holding back a laugh.
“Lord Percival has eighty years on him,” he said apologetically when he saw Eudora’s crestfallen face, “I don’t believe he would have had the strength.”
“Well, we shall keep him on the list nonetheless,” Eudora replied, crossing her arms stubbornly across her chest. She thought another name might need to be added to the list, but she felt disloyal for even thinking it and did not think she could say it aloud. Luckily, Lord Delaney did not possess the same scruples as she.
“I’m afraid we shall have to add Lady Albermay to the list,” Robert said, with a slight frown, “If only for the sake of fastidiousness.”
“She was not fond of her husband,” Eudora agreed before rushing to defend the viscountess, “But I don’t believe her capable of murder, my lord.”
“Robert,” he corrected her, absently. “The other guests must be considered as well. Captain Ledger, Mr Lowell, even those two harridans from the village.”
It was Eudora’s turn to be amused, though she tried to hide it from Lord Delaney. Mrs Canards and Mrs Wickling were many things, but they were not murderers.
“That’s everyone,” Eudora surmised, “Barring my family, though I do hope you’ll let me vouch for their innocence.”
“Of course,” Lord Delaney grinned, “And as my name has been omitted from the list, am I to presume that you believe completely in my innocence?”
