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Eddy, Lady Westover’s grandson and a Scotland Yard inspector who much preferred to be called Edward or Inspector Grantham, winced but did as he was bidden. He flashed me a look that clearly said, What are you up to? before he offered Miss Daisy his arm.
We entered the dining room and faced Lady Westover’s large square table with two seats on each of the four sides and a stu
Once we were all seated, the vacant chair next to me drew all eyes. Lady Westover had told me earlier my missing partner was the son of an old friend and suspected in Drake’s disappearance, but she refused to give me the man’s identity.
Naylard shared a corner of the table with me, giving me an excellent opportunity to question him about Drake. As soon as the soup course was served and the footmen retired, I said, “I’ve heard a friend of yours has gone missing.”
His unlined face scrunched up in a frown. “Who?” he asked around a mouthful of creamy asparagus soup.
“Nicholas Drake.”
“Yes. Shocking, isn’t it?”
“How did you meet?”
“It’s dashed embarrassing. How we met, that is.” Naylard turned pink. “I was standing on the riverbank watching some friends practice rowing at Henley. I slipped and fell in. Drake fished me out. Saved my life.”
“Can you swim, my lord?” I asked, staring into his eyes. Around us, other conversations were going on. No one was paying us any attention.
“Not a lick. I’m terribly uncoordinated.”
“I imagine you keep that secret.”
In the pause as Naylard took a spoonful of soup and then a sip of wine, I heard Lord Hancock touting the benefits of his newest invention to Inspector Grantham. Grantham’s responses were toneless noises.
“Oh, no. Everyone knows I sink like a stone. This is the second time I almost drowned. The first was at school. Friends still tease me about it.”
“How did you come to slip and fall in?” I took a quick sip of my soup. It was hot and creamy, the perfect thing on a cool, drafty night when I was expected to display a good deal of my neck and shoulders.
“The riverbank was wet and slick. I lost my footing when a wind gust hit me.”
“Those strong winds must have made practicing rowing on the river difficult.”
“No, there was no wind on the river.” A startled look crossed Naylard’s face. “Oh. Someone must have bumped me. I felt a nudge but I thought it was a strong breeze. Drake was the only one nearby to rescue me.”
Just as I suspected. Drake helped Naylard into the river so he could rescue him. In the silence as distrust slowly penetrated Naylard’s mind, I heard Lady Westover question someone about their favorite charity. I watched as Naylard’s expression changed from cheerful to questioning to surprised and then worried.
Was the man really so naive? “So you’ve been friends with Drake ever since he saved your life,” I said. “Any idea where he is now?”
Worry disappeared from his face. “No. I haven’t seen him since Lady Florence, the Duke of Merville’s daughter, had her engagement party last week. He’s not been in any of our usual haunts.”
“It is worrying when a friend vanishes.”
“Quite. It’s dashed disconcerting having people pop in and out of your life. Lucinda says it’s God’s will, but I’m afraid I don’t share her faith.”
I took a mouthful of soup, trying to think of a reply that would keep Naylard talking when the dining room doors opened and the butler a
It was all I could do to keep from choking. Blackford here? I’d spoken to him under my own name at his house and then at Sir Broderick’s. I’d told Lady Westover I’d met him. What was the old woman thinking of? He’d give me away.
My face heated as I stared at my soup, afraid at any moment my deception would be exposed. Mercifully, the Duke of Blackford began to talk to Lady Westover and Miss Daisy Hancock. I had only a few minutes before he would turn to face me and give away my true identity. I had to learn what I could from Lord Naylard.
I took a gulp of wine to wash the panic out of my voice. Hoping I didn’t sound like a fool, I asked, “What interests do you share with Mr. Drake?”
“We both love a good practical joke. Drake has such a keen sense of humor. We both play cards, although I play badly. And we both like horse racing and horse trading. He’s supposed to be looking for a new filly for my stables.”
“You breed horses?”
“Yes.” He started on a long story about horse breeding at his stables. All I needed to do was make appropriate noises at the correct moments and Naylard provided the rest of the conversation. Now I had the perfect opportunity to eavesdrop on other conversations around the table.
My interest quickly waned in Lord Hancock trying to sell shares in his latest weaponry to Lady Westover, and Inspector Grantham’s increasingly forceful refusals on her behalf. I turned my attention to studying Blackford. His voice was a deep hum in answer to Miss Daisy’s chatter. He ate neatly and sparingly. I dared not look at him directly, but I could glance in his direction as I sipped from my soup spoon. His jacket sleeve was made of the finest black material and his cuff link was a bloodred ruby.
I swallowed the last of my now-lukewarm soup and turned my attention back to Naylard just in time. A moment later, he finished his tale about his barns with “Don’t you think?”
Giving him my best smile, I said, “I’m afraid I’m not an expert on raising horses, milord.”
“We’ll continue later,” he said in a soft voice as the footmen picked up the soup bowls.
When the fish was set before us, Blackford turned to me with a cold smile. The clatter of silver and the rumble of voices faded in my ears. Apprehension must have shown in my eyes because my heart was pounding and I’d lost my appetite.
In a very low voice he said, “I didn’t realize you were Lady Westover’s country cousin, Miss—Peabody. Or should I say Miss Fenchurch? Does the presence of a Scotland Yard inspector have anything to do with why we’re enjoying this meal together?”
“No.” The duke deserved a better answer. He’d not given me away yet. I kept my voice low to match his. “The inspector’s here to even the numbers and make it appear more of a family di
“Scotland Yard inspectors don’t attend di
“I think they must. Curiosity is the most important characteristic an investigator can possess.”
He took a bite of his fish and considered. “You’re probably right,” he said when he’d swallowed. “So what is this di
“Drake was introduced to Victoria Dutton-Cox by Lord Naylard. Lord Hancock was a victim of Drake’s. I want to question them without them realizing what I’m doing.”
He’d jerked in his seat when I mentioned Victoria’s name, but by the time I finished speaking, he had himself under control again. “That’ll be easy with Naylard. The man lacks both suspicion and brains.” He took a sip of his wine. “Do you want to question me again?”
“Yes.”
“Then it will only be fair if I question you, too.”
“All right.” What does he want? “Did Drake try to blackmail you?”