Page 13 of The Meriwell Legacy
Alaric nodded. A leased house in town and a paid chaperon who knew suitable hostesses wasn’t an unusual arrangement for county gentry wanting to puff off their daughters in London society. But… “That begs the question of why Glynis was here—more specifically, what prompted her to accept Percy’s invitation.” He paused, then in the interests of the sharing he’d been the one to suggest they indulge in, went on, “I know Percy quite well, and I was surprised to discover not only your cousin but also Miss Weldon, another unmarried young lady, and her chaperon present at this event. In the past…suffice it to say that this wasn’t the sort of house party unmarried young ladies would be expected to attend.”
Miss Whittaker’s expression hardened. “So Glynis—and this Miss Weldon—weren’t Mandeville’s usual sort of guests?”
“No.” He couldn’t fathom why Percy had invited either young lady. Alaric met Miss Whittaker’s fine green eyes. “If you like, I’ll undertake to ask Percy why he invited your cousin.”
“Please do. I would like to know his reasons myself—and so would her poor mother and Grandpapa.”
Alaric frowned. “Glynis’s father?”
“Died two years ago, or I assure you he would have been here himself.”
Her tone suggested that the Whittaker clan took care of their own—and judging by her presence and what Alaric had seen so far of her character, in no uncertain terms. He allowed faint puzzlement to creep into his expression. “If you don’t mind me asking, why was it you—a relatively young lady and unmarried yourself—who Glynis’s mother approached?”
“Because I’m not that young, and since the death of my parents nine years past, I’ve been acting as, in effect, my grandfather’s agent. He’s the head of the wider family, but is now chair-bound. When Pamela learned her daughter wasn’t coming home as expected and, instead, had come to this house party, I was, naturally, the one she appealed to—and therefore, the one who came.”
She paused, then added, “I arrived in the village last night and put up at the inn. This morning, I reached here as the company were rising from the breakfast table. I spoke with Mr. Mandeville and several others—your cousin Monty among them—in the front hall. Mr. Mandeville sent a footman to fetch Glynis, but she couldn’t be found. Once we all realized she wasn’t anywhere inside the house, Mr. Mandeville organized a search of the grounds. Monty kindly volunteered to be my guide, and as you saw when we found you, Mrs. Macomber, who, unsurprisingly, had been thrown into a panic, trailed behind us.”
Alaric had fixed on her earlier revelations and what they suggested of both her character and the way her family saw her. “You didn’t travel from Kilburn alone?”
The look she threw him was the equivalent of telling him not to be silly. “Of course not. My maid and my groom are with me.”
Mildly, he said, “You might want to send for them, along with your luggage. I know Percy—or rather his housekeeper, Mrs. Carnaby—will find you a room.”
Her haughtiness dissolved as she thought. “I’ll wait to hear what the magistrate says.” She cast him a sharp glance. “I gather he doesn’t meet with your approval.”
He lightly shrugged. “Sir Godfrey Stonewall is a pompous ass who thinks far too much of himself and his appointment. However, I haven’t crossed paths with him for several years—it’s possible he’s acquired wisdom in the intervening time.”
She studied him—his face, his eyes—for several seconds, then humphed. “Obviously, we’ll see.”
He realized he’d somehow got trapped in the shifting hues within her green eyes. Inwardly frowning, he hauled his mind back to business and refocused his wayward senses. “As to Glynis being here, she must have had a reason. What was it, and did that reason, or the simple fact of her being here, precipitate her murder?”
Constance couldn’t fault Carradale’s reasoning but… “I have no answer as to her reason for accepting Mr. Mandeville’s invitation.” She paused, thinking of Glynis, of the girl Constance had known. Staring unseeing at the balustrade, she mused, “I wouldn’t have said Glynis was flighty, but rather that she was intent on enjoying life. In a wholly innocent way.” She refocused on Carradale—and told herself she didn’t need to pay so much attention to the dark beauty of his face. “You said you’d attended the earlier days of the house party. How did Glynis appear to you? Did you observe anything strange? Did you glean any hint as to why she was here or, at any time, sense that she was afraid of anyone?”
His gaze turned inward, and he remained still as—she assumed—he thought back over the past days. Eventually, he said, “If I had to give my opinion of her mood, I would have said she was happy. Sunnily so and pleased with her world.” His hazel eyes refocused on Constance, his gaze direct and rather piercing—eagle-like in its predatory quality, although in that regard, rake though he assuredly was, she sensed no threat from him. He went on, “She was bright and breezy, yet I saw no evidence that she was aiming her smiles at any particular man, if that’s crossed your mind.”
Constance softly snorted. “Of course it’s crossed my mind. I know Glynis well enough to guess that her primary interest in attending this house party would almost certainly have had something to do with a gentleman and the prospect of a potential betrothal. It’s difficult to imagine her pushing to accept Mr. Mandeville’s invitation if not at the behest of—or in pursuit of—some gentleman.”
“Perhaps not, but I saw no indication of any particular man being her target—and over the years, I’ve developed a reasonable facility for gauging such things, especially at events like this.”
She hadn’t needed the reminder of the sort of man she was dealing with, yet he’d made the comment in a matter-of-fact manner. Given his confidence in his expertise… “When you walked with her on the terrace last night, what did you talk of?”
His brows rose in thought, then he replied, “It was largely the usual small talk. Nothing that stands out or that was in any way revealing.” His eyes held hers for a moment, then he went on, “There was one thing—which might owe less to reality than to me reading too much into her behavior. However, for what it’s worth, from the way she engaged with me on the terrace, I assumed she was intent onappearingto flirt with me.”
While she could readily imagine Glynis doing so, Constance picked up his emphasis. “Appearing?”
He nodded. “She…went through the motions, as it were. No one else was on the terrace to see her performance at close range—only me.” He shrugged. “And I admit I found it entertaining. Amusing and a touch intriguing, because I had to wonder if she was intent on using me as a façade to screen the true reason she was here—meaning which gentleman she actually had her eye on.”
She hesitated, then said, “Can you be sure she wasn’t trying to make another gentleman jealous?”
“Had that been her purpose, she would have done better to have clung to my arm in the drawing room, where the entire company would have seen. As it was, they could glimpse us through the windows, but the bulk of her performance—if eliciting jealousy was her aim—would have been wasted. Instead, it was her idea to claim my arm for a stroll in the evening air, and she didn’t seem intent on us being on display.”
She frowned. “But surely—with the pair of you going outside alone—the others might imagine…” She looked at him and arched her brows.
He gave a dismissive huff. “You’re clutching at straws. Take it from one with more than a decade of experience, Glynis was not trying to make any other gentleman jealous.”
She was intrigued enough to ask, “How can you be so sure?”
“Because she wasn’t constantly glancing over her shoulder—or anywhere else—to see if he, her putative lover, was watching.”
