Page 61 of Death at the Dower House
“Did you see what he did with the handkerchief after that?”
I hadn’t been paying attention, to be honest. But—
“Put it in your pocket?” I asked Crispin. “It wasn’t suitable for displaying anymore, so I assume you crumpled it up and stuck it in your jacket pocket? Or trousers?”
He nodded.
“This smear right here,” Pendennis said, pointing to a streak of color that was rather more red than pink, “can you tell me where that came from?”
Not Laetitia, obviously. And not me. Certainly not Constance. And it wouldn’t have been there before last night. Crispin would never put a used pocket square in his dinner jacket before supper.
And contrary to what you might be wondering: no, it wasn’t blood. Just more lipstick.
“Johanna?” I suggested. “She wore red lipstick last night, didn’t she?”
“Did you see her kiss Lord St George at any point?”
Crispin winced. But really, what was the point of lying?
“Yes,” I said. “After the dancing and the row—you heard about the row, I assume?”
Pendennis nodded.
“After the row, Lady Laetitia ran upstairs to her room. Crispin—Lord St George—went out into the garden, and Johanna followed him.”
“That’s not in the statement you gave,” Pendennis told Crispin sternly. And turned his attention to me. “Nor in yours, Miss Darling.”
“I saw them from the upstairs loo,” I said. “I’d gone up early—to avoid Marsden, you know—and then Constance knocked me up again when she came in. But I had to wait until Christopher and Francis were both done in the washroom. By the time I made it there, the quarrel below was over, and I heard the door downstairs bang shut and saw St George walk into the garden. So did Christopher, from his room. Saw it, I mean. But he must have looked away before Johanna showed up. I hadn’t.”
And that made it sound as if I’d been standing there staring at Crispin for an interminably long time. In actuality, it had probably been a minute or two.
“And Miss de Vos kissed him?”
I nodded. “As far as I could tell from the upstairs lavatory. I was rather a long way away, and it was dark, but it looked like she did approximately the same thing Lady Laetitia had done earlier. Flung herself at him and latched on.”
“Lord St George?”
Crispin nodded, cheeks hot and lips compressed.
“Then what happened?”
“I pushed her away,” Crispin said. And glanced sideways at me. “That time, I pushed her away.”
“Even though you were alone and there was no one watching?”
“Miss Darling was watching,” Crispin said bitterly, “although I didn’t know that until this afternoon. And there were still people in the parlor when I left. For all I knew, Laetitia was standing there looking at me. Her brother, too. And I’m not stupid, Inspector. I knew she was only interested in my title and money. For all that she claimed otherwise, those were what she wanted.”
Pendennis nodded. “So the handkerchief?”
“I took it out of my pocket and used it to wipe my mouth. Then I…” He hesitated. His gaze dropped to the surface of the table. “I thought about throwing it to the ground to make a point. But instead, I shoved it at Johanna and told her to wipe her face. She was crying, big crocodile tears, still trying to convince me that she loved me, and I was disgusted by it.”
“And she took the handkerchief?”
Crispin nodded. He was blushing, cheeks hot with embarrassment, and he resolutely refused to meet Pendennis’s eyes. “I didn’t give her a choice, really. I pushed it into her hand and walked away. And left her standing there.”
“Was it still on her when she went inside?” I asked Pendennis. “Is that why you’re asking about it?”
It hadn’t been outside by the wall this afternoon, although I suppose we had had other things on our minds than looking for it, too.
