Page 25 of Murder at the Debutante Ballby

“No. The maid gave a false address. But I learned something that throws up another suspect. One of the footmen passed a note from Mr. Livingstone to Mr. McDonald, asking McDonald to meet him in the library. That was only thirty minutes before the body was discovered.”

“Livingstone… The name doesn’t sound familiar.”

“It’s unlikely he has stayed at the hotel. He’s wealthy. His daughter, Amelia, was the most popular debutante at the ball.”

Harry sat back and crossed his arms over his chest. “I wonder what they spoke about.”

“It could have been nothing,” I said slyly. “Or it could be something to do with gossip. Stopping it, to be precise.”

Harry suddenly sat forward, a spark brightening his eyes. “McDonald was a notorious gossip. If he discovered something scandalous about Livingstone, Livingstone may have killed him to silence him.”

Something about this turn of events was beginning to seem familiar. It took me a moment to remember something Jonathon had told me on the night of the ball. “The gossip might not be about Livingstone, but about his daughter, Amelia. Apparently she’s involved in some sort of scandal, but I don’t know what. I didn’t ask.”

“You won’t make a very good detective if you don’t like to hear gossip, Cleo.”

“I’ll be sure to listen next time, just on the off-chance it relates to a murder.” I rose. “We need to speak with him and find out why he met with Mr. McDonald. I’ll call at the hotel and ask if your uncle knows where we can find him.”

“Then you’ll pass the information on to me and I’ll call on Livingstone alone.”

I went to open the door, but Harry put his hand to it, keeping it closed. I tried not to think about how much I liked the nearness of him, and how my insides somersaulted when he lowered his head to meet my gaze. It wasn’t easy to remain focused.

“It’s too dangerous for you to speak to him,” he said. “If he recognizes you—”

“He won’t. We weren’t introduced at the ball.”

“Even so, we’ve tempted fate too many times already.”

I grinned.

He frowned. “Why are you smiling at me like that?”

“I didn’t think you were a believer in fate.”

He frowned harder. “Stop changing the subject.”

“Either you move aside or we stay in here forever, because I’m going to call on Mr. Livingstone with you whether you like it or not. We can pretend I am your unnamed associate, if you like, but Iamgoing with you.”

He expelled a measured breath. “I don’t know why I thought I’d win. Self-preservation isn’t one of your strong suits.” He opened the door for me.

Harry waitedon the other side of Piccadilly from the hotel but joined me when I signaled to him. “Frank says my uncle has gone out and won’t be back until later tonight. No one will tell him you were here.”

Frank held the door open for us, his gaze watchful but not censorial. Goliath and Peter greeted Harry with easy smiles, although both called him Mr. Armitage. Old habits were hard to break, and they weren’t on a familiar basis with him. If Harry came here more often, they would change, but he had avoided the hotel unless absolutely necessary.

We found Mr. Hobart in his office, but he didn’t know where the Livingstones lived. He knew almost nothing about the family since Mr. Livingstone wasn’t one of the gentlemen in my uncle’s circle and there was no Mrs. Livingstone to partake of the hotel’s afternoon tea.

“I believe the daughter may have been here once last year, with a family friend, but I haven’t got any notes on her. Miss Bainbridge will know more about her, I’m sure. Lady Bainbridge, too, although she’s taken to her bed today.”

“Is Flossy in her room?” I asked.

“You should catch her there before she comes down for afternoon tea. She’s meeting a friend today.”

“Perfect.”

Harry refused to come with me, however.

“She won’t tell her father you were here,” I assured him.

“It’s not that. Not entirely, anyway. She’ll be more inclined to talk freely if it’s just you.”

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