Page 7 of A Lady’s Guide to Murder
CHAPTER 6
In Pursuit
Fifteen minutes later, Theo had difficulty concealing his horror as he stared at Perceval Percy, who stood before the fireless hearth, having declined to sit or to drink.
The chief magistrate believed the Duchess of Severn had had a hand in killing her own husband.
Theo strode to his desk, poured himself a gin and swallowed it in one gulp. Could it be true? The duchess was enigmatic, but was she a murderess ? Theo’s hand shook as he placed his empty glass on his desk beside the copy of his political article.
He inhaled deeply, hoping to conceal how the tale had affected him. ‘Do you believe the duchess capable of such a heinous act, Your Grace?’
Percy walked slowly across the room. ‘The evidence is certainly damning,’ he said, peering down from Theo’s window to the back court. ‘She was alone with my cousin at the time of his death and his corpse bore marks of violence upon the neck. The duchess is by no means a weak woman; physically, she could strangle a man, especially one she’d already enfeebled by poison, as Dr Grimsley believes.’
Theo retrieved his glass and the bottle. He needed another bloody drink. ‘Tell me again the exact last words the footman overheard the late duke utter before he opened the door of the library?’
‘ “My dear sweet killed me”,’ Percy replied.
‘My dear sweet.’ Theo poured himself a healthy draught of gin. ‘Was this a term of endearment the duke frequently employed for the duchess?’
‘My dear or my sweet.’ Percy shrugged his shoulders. ‘Such were the terms he used, yes.’
Theo sipped his gin. The wording of ‘My dear sweet killed me,’ seemed too awkward for accuracy. Surely the duke would have said, ‘You’ve killed me,’ to his wife, if they were in the room alone together? But he concealed his doubts to Percy. ‘Has Sir Robert Baker questioned the duchess, if he believes her guilty?’
‘As you can imagine, it is a delicate matter.’ Percy drummed his fingers on the window ledge. ‘Her father has some inkling of the magistrate’s suspicions, but naturally he protests that she is innocent and too fragile in her grief to be questioned. She doesn’t seem fragile to me ; however, the magistrate doesn’t like to go against Lord Lockington before he is quite certain.’
‘You made it seem as if he is already certain.’
Percy returned to the hearth, twisting his signet ring as he strolled. ‘I see I must be candid with you, Mr Hawke. Unless the duchess is publicly exposed as the killer, I worry she will never be tried, much less hanged. An innocent may die in her stead.’
Theo lifted his brows. ‘Who?’ he asked, wondering if this visit was somehow part of a ploy on Percy’s part to save his own guilty skin.
‘There is a maid – a clumsy, half-witted sort of girl – who Sir Robert holds under lock and key. She is just the sort of hapless nobody who could be blamed and hanged in the name of serving justice; nobody would think twice about the matter and no powerful enemies would be made.’
Bile rose from Theo’s stomach so violently he almost retched his gin. Percy’s reply had taken him by surprise, although it oughtn’t, for if what the duke said was true, it wouldn’t be the first time a working-class girl had hanged for the crimes of the ‘Quality’. Theo’s own mother had been such a victim, having been executed shortly after his birth for supposedly stealing a valuable necklace. But based on Theo’s investigation into court records, it was far more likely that the lady of the house had framed Deborah Hawke for the crime, seeking to punish the young chambermaid who’d engaged her husband’s attentions.
Pleading her belly had given Deborah a few extra months, but it hadn’t spared her life. Nor had it brought Theo’s father to her side, for that man had drowned while boating, just before his widow had brought the claims against Deborah. In truth, the whole affair smacked of foul play, but, despite considerable effort, Theo had never found any evidence that his father’s death had been anything other than an accident.
He stared into his gin, trying not to let his sentiments overpower his reason. ‘What evidence do they have against the girl?’
‘None that I am aware of,’ Percy replied. ‘But public reaction to your column this morning has forced the magistrate’s hand. Just this afternoon, I learnt there is to be a coroner’s inquest in which Dr Grimsley will announce the official cause of death. Not as poisoning and strangulation, as he once hinted, but poisoning alone. I, for one, worry this might be Lord Lockington’s influence. Since the duchess and my cousin were alone together when he died, strangulation declares her guilt. I believe Sir Robert’s intention is to charge the girl instead – who better to take the blame for a poisoning than a friendless maid? Which leads me to wonder how you’ll feel if your column is responsible for bringing about the death of an innocent?’
Percy was taunting him. ‘You didn’t answer my earlier question,’ Theo said, refusing to rise to the bait. ‘Do you or do you not believe Henrietta Percy capable of murdering her husband?’
‘Until the will reading today, I thought it impossible,’ Percy replied after a moment’s pause. ‘Now I’m less confident. How else to explain the coincidence of the will alteration the afternoon before my cousin’s poisoning ? Not to mention these ridiculous terms that allow her twelve months to deliver an heir to supplant me?’
Theo rubbed his chin. That term of the will, which Percy had also explained, was confusing. If the duchess had killed her husband – and he emphasised that if , even in his thoughts – why had she not waited until she had already given birth to a son, if her intention was to assume control over all the lands and wealth of the dukedom?
Still, someone had killed the duke and the single fact that the duchess had been alone with him at the time of his death was damning evidence. Yet … ‘The duke’s generosity in his new will seems to suggest that he trusted his wife.’
‘ Trusted her? ’ Percy’s voice rose an octave. ‘Yes, as one trusts the devil because one is taken in by his beauty. The duchess is a demon, Hawke.’
Theo recoiled, surprised at the fervency of the duke’s loathing, although he’d seen evidence of it outside Severn House two weeks earlier. ‘Indeed?’
Percy closed his eyes, as if attempting to control his emotions. ‘Forgive my outburst,’ he said at last. ‘The duchess has long been a point of contention between me and my late cousin. All I can say is, she is not a woman to be trusted, nor a woman to be underestimated. She is beautiful, with all the outward appearance of goodness. That , of course, captivated my poor cousin, as it would any man. But from the onset, she tricked him.’ Percy stared intently at Theo. ‘Five years ago, when you published your column on the duchess and Marlow, what did you think my cousin would do, once he knew his bride to be unfaithful?’
Theo lifted his shoulders. ‘I did not presume to guess.’
Percy snarled. ‘ I told him to divorce her. He forgave her instead.’
‘That upset you?’
‘Would it not upset any man if a bastard usurped his rightful title?’
Theo drank the rest of his gin in silence. While he didn’t trust Percy’s motives, the elusive nature of the duchess’s true character had always baffled Theo. Now these new details added to his confusion. The late duke’s generosity with his will and his tolerance of the duchess’s infidelity seemed to suggest that he sincerely loved her. So had Severn been duped by his beautiful bride, as Percy claimed? Had the duke been controlled by a vicious and violent wife? Was Henrietta Percy a veritable Lady Macbeth? And, in the end, for reasons Theo couldn’t yet fathom, had she killed the duke, even before getting herself with child?
Whatever the answers, Theo knew he wanted them – for the sake of the truth, for justice for the duke, to safeguard an innocent life, and because he owed it to Scripp’s workers to ensure the Examiner wasn’t shut down by Parliament. Besides, this was exactly the type of story he needed to write to draw attention to himself as a serious journalist. And it would be immensely satisfying to close the book on the enigma of Henrietta Percy, at long last.
Yet he was wary of Percy. ‘Why have you come to me with this tale?’ he asked. ‘What do you think I can do about it?’
Percy regarded him steadily. ‘This afternoon, the duchess departed for her estate of Grenham Park in Berkshire. I want you to follow her. Watch her, and when you have proof that she’s taken a lover, then reveal her to be the murdering, adulterous thief she is.’
A suspiciously simple request. ‘And why do you ask me to do this? Surely you have some underling who could perform the task?’
‘I don’t want to send an underling. I want to know the truth – and all the specific details of that truth – and you aren’t scared of truth. I’ll say this for you, Hawke – you have been a trial to me many times over the years, but you’re an audacious bastard whom I can’t help but respect. Nor am I alone in that sentiment. People read what you write, and people believe you, however much they pretend otherwise.’
The duke was employing flattery to get what he wanted, but Theo wasn’t completely immune. ‘If she’s left town, I’ll require funds.’
‘I anticipated you.’ Percy withdrew a purse from his pocket. ‘Twenty pounds in coin to cover the expense of travel. Furthermore, my groom stands in the market square with one of the best horses from my stable, saddled and ready. The duchess took her carriage; on my horse, you can travel at twice her speed and reach Grenham before she does. And as for remuneration, once you publish your article exposing her as an adulteress attempting to pass off a bastard in my stead, then I shall personally give you—’
‘I don’t accept blood money.’
‘I shall personally give you,’ the duke said again, more slowly, ‘one thousand pounds. Which’ – he scanned Theo’s spartan chamber – ‘would change your life, I imagine.’
Yes, dammit, a thousand pounds would change Theo’s life. With such a fortune, he could start his own newspaper. A real one, with a substantial reach.
‘We shall see,’ Theo said finally. ‘But I won’t print lies, no matter what you offer. I write the truth and the truth alone. If there is evidence the duchess committed murder, I shall print that, and the law must then deal with her accordingly. But if there is not, then I shan’t write a word about her in relation to this foul business.’
Percy placed the coin purse in Theo’s hand. ‘Mr Hawke, while even I cannot fully bring myself to imagine Henrietta as a murderess, no matter what the evidence suggests, I know with utmost certainty that she is a thief and a liar, attempting to get herself with child to deprive me of what is rightfully mine. But, please, don’t take my word for it – follow her, discover for yourself. You might even find yourself a target to a woman of her appetite. And remember, I don’t care who lies with her – I just want the truth exposed before she attempts to pass that child off as my cousin’s.’
Theo took in Percy’s appalling meaning. Ah, perhaps at last the new duke was revealing his sordid purpose. ‘You suggest I seduce the duchess in order to ascertain her goal?’
Percy’s lips spread into a wide smile. ‘No doubt you’re too principled to stoop to such a level, although she is undeniably a beauty.’
Theo didn’t hide his disgust. He would never interfere in any manner designed to fabricate evidence. Scowling at Percy like the loathsome insect he was, he pointed to the door. ‘Show yourself out at once, unless you wish me to dismiss the entirety of your offer as vehemently as I dismiss that suggestion.’
Percy’s smile didn’t waver. ‘Gladly shall I take my leave, Mr Hawke.’
Theo didn’t waste time after the duke departed. In a matter of moments, he washed and changed his clothes, donning leather breeches and a brown tailcoat over a clean shirt and linen waistcoat, packed some essentials, took up the purse and went in search of the horse. Although his stomach growled, he didn’t stop for food. The two glasses of gin would have to suffice as dinner, for the time being.
Right now, he must pursue a duchess.
One who might very well be a murderer.