Lessons in Solving the Wrong Problem - Charlie Cochrane Page 0,13
his cue from the horrified expression on his host’s face, felt confident about airing his scepticism of such matters.
“Folk who should know a damn sight better.” Henry snorted. “No, my mother would never have taken such a route. She did, however, try to approach whatever it was she saw, but to no avail. When she reached the spot, the child had simply vanished.”
Chapter Three
Before dressing for dinner, Jonty decided to nip along to Orlando’s room to compare thoughts. There’d clearly be no bedroom hopping going on—it wouldn’t hurt to sleep apart for a couple of nights and it would be the height of stupidity to risk being caught—but nobody could object to them meeting to discuss the case. That was why they’d been invited in the first place.
“His lordship seems a decent man,” Jonty said, once through the door and having carefully closed it behind him. “It would have cost him a lot to share that story about his family.”
“Yes. The implication that his mother may have been seeing things. Not something you’d want everyone to know.”
“Exactly. Or it simply may have been a case of mistaken identity. Although that seems so obvious, surely they considered it at the time.”
“Perhaps they didn’t want to distress the lady of the house by implying she couldn’t recognise her own child.”
“Talking of ladies of the house, the present one seems very taken with you. Apart from discussing the Woakes paintings, she didn’t engage with me very much.” Jonty viewed, with pleasure, the slight flush on Orlando’s cheeks.
“I noticed that. Made me slightly uncomfortable, at times.” Orlando ran his finger around the inside of his collar. “Make sure I’m not left alone with her or give me a suit of armour to wear.”
“A chastity belt might be better, although how awful it would be if we lost the key.” Jonty threw himself into a chair beside the fireplace.
Orlando took the other chair. “I have a theory about her liking me.”
“Oh, yes? She prefers her men dark, incredibly handsome and slightly brooding? Or she veers towards the sciences rather than the arts?”
“Possibly, on both counts, but I have something less cerebral in mind. You look too much like your mother.”
“What do…ah, I think I follow you. If Henry really was so taken with Mama—and Beatrice both knows about it and resents it—then I might be a constant reminder of her impact upon him. Papa knows we’re here and didn’t give me any sort of warning in advance, which he would have done had he been aware of this…conflict of interest, I suppose you’d call it. I wonder how many more of her suitors still carry a small torch for her, to their wives’ chagrin?” Jonty paused, struck by a horrific thought.
“What’s the matter? You look as though you’ve seen a ghost.”
“Not quite. I suddenly realised that if one of Mama’s ex-suitors was determined—or mad—enough, they might try to murder Papa, on the off-chance that they could console his grieving widow. The notion’s quite upset me.”
Orlando reached forward, arm briefly outstretched to take Jonty’s hand, then swiftly sat back again, evidently remembering this wasn’t the time or place for such a display of affection. “Don’t let it. Your father is more than capable of holding his own against a host of assassins. And surely any such attempt would be doomed to double failure? If your mother discovered said suitor was responsible, she’d haul him to the police station herself.”
“True. Probably by an unmentionable part of his anatomy. That’s cheered me up again.” Jonty slapped his thighs. “This business with the ghost of the brother is intriguing. A nice mystery in itself.”
Orlando raised an eyebrow. “You don’t think it was simply a matter of the late Lady Byrd seeing things that weren’t there? Perhaps a degree of emotional instability, exacerbated by the death of the child following so hard on the death of the father?”
“No, I do not. Before we came here, I contacted Papa and Mama to see if they had any inside gen on the family and their character.”
“Did you? I know you got the details of the two children and where they now resided but I didn’t know you’d asked for the subjective as well as the objective.”
“Would you expect me to have done any different when we have such a useful source of information on tap? And I know you did the same. Touché, my dear.”
Orlando grinned guiltily. “I think I was first off my marks, though.”
“I’ll concede that you were. Papa found