to see you?” Cordell demanded. “What was so urgent that she had to drag you out of the opera?”
“I have no idea. I cannot even guess, for I know nothing about her life. How do you know her?”
“I don’t, really. She came the first time with Mrs. Fisher, from curiosity, I always thought. It never seemed to me her heart was in the cause. In fact, I assumed she came back because of you.”
“Me?” Dragan said, startled.
“You stepped out with her, did you not?”
“No,” Dragan said, scowling. “I took her for tea once and to the theatre once because she asked me to take the place of a friend who had let her down. I was not her lover.”
“Annie thinks you were.”
Dragan blinked. “I can’t think why. Apparently, she—Nancy—told her employer she was about to marry a gentleman. Who could that be?”
“You?”
Dragan waved that impatiently aside. “I hadn’t even seen her for a month.”
“And yet, whatever trouble she was in, she came to you.”
Dragan mulled over the oddity of that, not for the first time. “I need to go the inquest, discover how she died, and if the dagger they found was the one that killed her. Would the coroner even look to see if the weapon matches the wound?”
“I hope so. Since she worked for the Duke of Kelburn, I imagine they will pay a little more attention than for some homeless stray.”
“Hmm… What do you know of the duke? Or his family?”
“Nothing,” Cordell replied dryly. “We don’t exactly move in the same circles.”
“But you know Lord Horace, do you not?”
“Goodness, no, not personally. It was one of his assistants I met once. Gabriel. Colorless individual yet full of his lordship’s importance, came by especially to remind me of the laws and my responsibilities.”
“Then do you think Lord Horace knew of your group? Was his office watching Nancy?”
Cordell frowned at him. “Imperfect as this country is, it is not the Austrian Empire! Of course, they were not watching her! Or me. I am well aware of the law and my responsibilities.”
“I know,” Dragan said mildly. “What of the rest of the family? Do you know of a Lord Forsythe? A Lady Grizelda?”
“Have you ever seen me read the society pages?”
Dragan sighed. “No. But you do live in this town. Nancy was a housemaid, but she seemed also to act as lady’s maid for Grizelda. Grizelda—found the body, you know.”
“Ah. I see.” Cordell lapsed into thought. “Do you know Jeremy Battsby?”
“No.”
“Patient of mine. His brother was a friend at university. He asked me to take another look at his arm, which got broken in a hunting accident. We could go over there after dinner if you like. He will know the Kelburns. For whatever his opinion is worth…”
***
“Not really friends of mine,” Mr. Battsby said cheerfully, two hours later, while Cordell examined his arm. “Their society’s a bit rarified for an old wastrel like me. The duke’s a huge political figure, of course, and his eldest, the Marquess of Monkton, seems to be following in the footsteps. Bit of a stuffed shirt, to be frank.”
“What about Lord Horace?” Dragan asked.
“Ah. Different kettle of fish.” He thought about it. “Much more substance, but one never quite knows what that substance is. Don’t find him comfortable company. Forsythe, now, is a pleasant young fellow. And Lady Azelea…” He smiled and kissed his free hand expressively.
“A beauty?” Dragan hazarded.
“And some. They all are, of course. Lady Rosemary and Lady Athena both took London by storm. And Paris.”
“And Lady Grizelda?”
“Don’t know her,” Battsby said regretfully. “I suppose she must have done the Season, though I don’t recall her. But if she is anything like her sisters, she will be dazzling.”
***
Grizelda felt exhausted by the end of the day.
It was harrowing, talking to the shocked servants, explaining about Nancy’s death, cutting through their grief to warn that the police would probably wish to speak to them.
“There is nothing to worry about,” Griz assured them as they gathered around her in the servants’ hall. “Just answer their questions truthfully, because it is their job to discover who did this to Nancy. I know we all want the culprit found.” She turned to Mrs. MacKenna, the housekeeper, who stood beside her, pale and tight-lipped. “Shall we talk in your room, Mrs. MacKenna?”
“Over the last few days, did Nancy seem unusually distracted or worried to you?” she asked the housekeeper as soon as they were seated in her cozy room.