Page 56 of The Counterfeit Scoundrel
Daisy wondered if this was the first time that the dining room had ever been used. Unmarried gentlemen who lived alone seldom hosted dinners, because women were needed to ensure all ran smoothly. Although Perkins had no doubt overseen meals presented elsewhere as she found no fault with his management of the footmen who brought in the dishes. The butler himself saw to the serving of the wine.
She and Bishop sat across from each other on the narrow sides of the table rather than at the head and foot of it, for which she was grateful because its length was ridiculously long, meant to accommodate a large number of guests. But with little distance between them, she could see him clearly, noting the dark circles beneath his eyes. He might be giving the appearance that he wasn’t bothered by Swindler’s suspicions, but she would wager that they did weigh heavily on him, might have given him a couple of restless nights. He might even be uncomfortable with the notion that he’d struck a man two nights before he was killed.
When all activity ceased, and she was preparing to dip her spoon into the soup, Bishop asked, “What are you doing with my servants? Why the theft?”
She didn’t miss the fact that standing off to the side, Perkins arrogantly raised a brow.
“The first, Annie, I stole away to ensure you were short on staff.”
“Opening the way for you to get a position here.”
“Precisely.” Unlike the butler, who looked as though he was preparing to chew nails, Bishop seemed not onlyamused but mildly impressed. “She missed her friend Sarah, so once the Parker situation was resolved, I lured the chambermaid away as well. They now have positions within my aunt’s household. They didn’t come cheap, either. You pay your servants well.”
“Is your uncle by any chance the Earl of Bellingham?”
“He is. How did you determine that?”
“He wrote your letter of reference.”
“Ah, yes, although actually, he only signed it. I penned it. He was very grumpy about my asking for his assistance, but then annoyed with me is his usual state. He believes what I’m doing is beneath me. However, he is of a mind that to be given to a man in want of my dowry is not.”
“He objects to your independence, then?”
“He worries that his guardianship of me will be brought into question. He also fears change in the social order. I truly believe in a few years, we women will come into our own. I daresay we’ll even vote.”
“Heaven forbid.”
His tone implied horror at the notion, but his eyes reflected humor, and she suspected when the time came, he would fully support allowing women more freedom along with the right to vote. Weren’t his current actions proof that he didn’t believe women should be held back by ancient beliefs that regarded them as chattel?
“What made you decide to become a sleuth? Due to the spying aspect of it, the intrusion on another’s privacy, it’s not the most respected of occupations.”
Daisy hopedthatattitude would also eventually change. “Books. My aunt is a voracious reader of detective novels, and in so many of them, the detective is a woman. From the night she took me in, she would read the tales to me in the evenings. As I got older, she added a challenge to the readings. When we each thought we knew who the killer was, we’d inscribe the character’s name on a slip of paper, along with the date and time, and place it in a box, not to be opened until the story was finished. Then we’d reveal our guesses. If we’d both guessed correctly, the winner was the one who submitted her choice first. I was correct more often than not.”
“However, the author knows going in who the culprit is. The story is designed to provide clues that will lead you along the correct, albeit often crooked, path. Real life is not so straightforward.”
“True, but I enjoy the challenge of not only gathering the information but determining the best way to get it.”
Focused on watching his features, searching for judgment and finding only attentiveness and perhaps an increasing measure of respect, she barely noticed when a dish was removed and replaced by another. But then it had always seemed that when he was about, he managed to dominate her attention.
“I’d thought female detectives existed only in fiction,” he said quietly as though they were sharing embarrassing secrets.
“I believe all fiction is based in truth, although many people hold your assumption. It’s one of the reasons women so often meet with success when striving to uncover that for which they are searching. No one suspects us of having the wherewithal to be effective. Yet we are crucial in solving a good many crimes orgathering needed information—such as unfaithful spouses.”
“How many adulteresses have you identified?”
“Two, not including Mrs. Parker, who doesn’t really qualify for the label. And one adulterer, although I daresay there are more unfaithful men than women, but men’s transgressions alone are not enough for a woman to obtain a divorce. Laws written by men tend to favor men. But someday, women shall be involved in writing the laws as well.”
“You have a great deal of faith in what your gender will accomplish.”
“A woman presently oversees an empire. Victoria is not the first female to do so.”
With a small smile, he sipped his wine, and she couldn’t help but believe that he enjoyed getting a rise out of her. “You’re quite passionate about women and their abilities. I’m rather glad a bowl of chocolate glaze isn’t near at hand.”
She looked down at the chicken that had just been set before her, then back up at him. “I won’t apologize for it.”
“Nor would I expect you to. Did you attack the other men you spied leading women astray?”
“I hardly attacked you.”
