Page 44 of Murder at the Debutante Ballby

“I can have a word with him myself, Harry. Philip is discreet when it comes to keeping quiet about the family’s comings and goings.”

Harry’s stride slowed before we turned the corner. “Floyd’s different.”

“Because he’s a man?”

“Yes,” he said matter-of-factly. “And I know you know that’s the reason, so don’t pretend otherwise with me.”

I glanced at his firm jaw and uncompromising gaze as it swept the vicinity. Was he looking out for potential trouble? Or avoiding looking at me?

“I never pretend with you, Harry,” I said quietly. “I can’t. You always see right through me.”

That got his attention. His pace slowed even more. “I’ve hurt your feelings.”

“No. Not at all. You didn’t make the world one that gives men more freedom than women. In fact, you do your best to accommodate me, even going so far as to accompany me to a pub when you know it would anger my uncle if he found out.”

“He’s already angry with me. What’s one more reason?” He nudged me with his elbow. “Besides, if it’s a choice between having you or Sir Ronald angry with me, I’ll choose him every time. His temper may be worse than yours, but I don’t like it when you give me the cold shoulder.”

I nudged him back and laughed, but I couldn’t think of anything to say. We were edging dangerously close to territory I no longer wanted to enter, and it was better to remain silent than tell him I didn’t like him being angry with me either.

Harmony listenedto my account of our meeting with Miss Docherty as she ate breakfast, and agreed with the theory that the maid may be blackmailing her mistress so that she could keep her job.

“It’s what I’d do,” she said.

“You wouldn’t need to blackmail her. You’re not a drunk, and Lady Quorne would be fortunate to have you.”

“I’d ask for money to stay quiet, not employment.”

I lowered my coffee cup to look at her. “You would?”

“Of course. Women like Lady Quorne use their beauty to raise themselves up, so why can’t people like Miss Docherty and me use whatever means is at our disposal to do the same?”

“Are you saying you’d blackmail me if I had money to give? You know a lot of secrets about me that you could tell my uncle.”

She picked up a fork and stabbed a sausage with it. “I wouldn’t do that to you. We’re friends.Theystopped being friends because Lady Quorne turned into a snob. You’ll never be a snob, Cleo. Besides, you’re not going to marry anyone, let alone a rich man. You and I will always be friends.”

“It seems I can’t afford not to be friends with you.”

She laughed. She understood my sense of humor.

“I have a report for you, too.” According to Harmony, the Quornes’ coachman was no help. He was too loyal to be bribed and too smart to be tricked. He didn’t give up any of his master or mistress’s movements. “If he drove them to a secret rendezvous with McDonald, he’s not telling,” she finished.

“Is that what Goliath reported to you this morning?” I teased, knowing full well she hadn’t heard it from the porter.

“Not Goliath.”

“Victor?”

She nodded without looking up from her plate.

“When did you see him?” I asked oh-so-innocently. “He wouldn’t have been out of bed when you left this morning. His shift doesn’t start for a few hours.”

“I couldn’t sleep without knowing what the coachman said so I waited up for him last night.”

I smiled into my cup.

“You can wipe that smile off your face, Cleo. I needed answers, that’s all. There’s nothing going on between us.”

“Yet,” I muttered.