Page 41 of Death at the Dower House
Laetitia, not a lot smarter than her brother, certainly not smart enough not to ask, flapped her eyelashes at him coquettishly. “What was it you said about me, St George?”
He squirmed. Glanced at me, looked away. Flicked a glance at Christopher, who had also been present for that particular conversation two weeks ago.
“Might as well tell her,” I said, as I fought back laughter. “She’s just going to keep asking until you do.”
“Fine.” He gave her his best soulful look. “I told them that you’re not one of my conquests—Darling can be very crude in the way she puts things—but rather, you conquered me.”
“Oh!” Laetitia looked transported with delight. Her brother looked like he’d eaten something rancid. Christopher glanced over at me, and it was clear he was trying hard not to laugh.
“Masterful, St George,” I said dryly when I had conquered my reflexive desire to gag.
“Thank you, Darling.” The look he gave me said clearly that he didn’t appreciate having been pushed to make this confession at all.
“If we can just get on with it?” Tom suggested, in the tone of one sorely put upon. “Try to keep the detours to a minimum, if you please. So you and your brother arrived.” He turned back to Laetitia. “You greeted the people who were already here, including St George, whom you know well.”
She nodded, and a shade of discomfort crossed her face. I was happy to see it, since it seemed like the least she could do, really.
“You had supper. And after supper...?”
“Drinks and dancing in the parlor,” Laetitia said promptly. “Gilbert manned the gramophone. Constance danced with the elder Mr. Astley. I danced with St George—” She lowered her lashes demurely, “and the younger Mr. Astley.”
Tom glanced at Christopher—he shrugged—before turning his attention to me. “What about you, Miss Darling?”
“I danced with Christopher,” I said, “and Lord Geoffrey, and at one point with St George.”
This was not the time and place to bring up Marsden’s foray up my leg, I decided. I’d confide his liberties to Tom later, since they might have some bearing on what had happened to Johanna—or not—but it was better done privately.
“What about Miss de Vos?” Tom asked.
There was that moment of dead silence again. When no one else spoke up, I did. “She danced with Crispin and Christopher and at least once with Lord Geoffrey.”
“And at the end of the evening?”
“I went up first,” I said, and avoided looking at everyone. “Christopher walked me to my room and waited while I brushed my teeth. Then he went back downstairs.”
The fact that he’d locked me in and taken the key to give to Constance, and the reason why it had been necessary, was something we could also tell Tom later.
I got the feeling that he could sense there was more to it than what I had articulated, but he simply nodded. “Anything to add to that, Kit?”
Christopher shook his head. “It was early. Just after eleven. I spent another hour, hour and a bit, in the parlor. By then Constance—Miss Peckham—was tired, so Francis and I walked her to her room, which was also Pippa’s room—they were sharing—and then we retired to our own.”
“The two of you shared a room? You and your brother?”
“The three of us,” Christopher corrected. “Francis, Crispin, and I. Nobody wanted to invade Lady Peckham’s bed chamber, so we doubled and tripled up in the other rooms. Pippa stayed with Constance, and Lord Geoffrey with Mr. Peckham. Lady Laetitia was in Miss de Vos’s room.”
Tom eyed Laetitia for a moment before he asked, “But Miss de Vos was found in Lady Peckham’s bed, you said?”
Christopher nodded.
“So she didn’t come to bed last night?”
Laetitia shook her head, which may or may not have been the truth. They might simply have avoided one another completely—Johanna had still been wearing her evening dress when we’d found her, so she might have gone directly to Lady Peckham’s room when she came upstairs—or there could have been a big fight in Johanna’s room first, before she stormed out and across the landing. But if so, it must have been done in whispers, since none of us had heard anything of it.
Or at least I hadn’t. Someone else might have heard, but was keeping mum about it.
Maybe it had been Johanna I had heard outside on the landing later in the night. Maybe she had hesitated outside our room, wondering whether to knock or not.
If she had, might she be alive now?
