Page 22 of Murder at the Dinner Party

“I set her straight.”

“Still, that can’t be the reason why she didn’t glare at me today, not even once. I doubt she’s forgiven me for getting you dismissed from the hotel.”

“I told her to be nice to you.”

“Oh.”

He frowned at me. “You sound disappointed.”

“I hoped I could win her over by being me.”

“You will eventually. You have time.”

I frowned back at him. “Time before what happens?”

He looked ahead to the railway station. “We should hurry. I think I hear the train coming.”

It was a dreadfully clumsy avoidance tactic, but I didn’t press him for an answer. I had an inkling it would make me uncomfortable again.

When we arrived back in Mayfair, I wasn’t sure what to do about Harry. We’d teamed up for most of our investigations in the past, so it seemed natural to do so again. He was a good sounding board. Indeed, he was a good partner. We worked well together.

But asking him to help this time felt different. We’d been at a crossroads for some time, where we were both friends and colleagues, but lately a third factor had been thrown into the mix and it was unbalancing everything. I didn’t like being unbalanced.

There was only one thing to do. I stopped near the line of cabs waiting to collect passengers outside the station. “Goodbye, Harry. Thank you for your assistance.”

The look of disappointment on his face almost had me changing my mind. He quickly regained his usual air of self-confidence, however. “I’m glad I could help. I’ll see you…at some point.”

“I’m sure you will.” Before I could stop myself, I put out my hand.

He stared at it, and for a moment, I thought he’d take my hand, pull me against his body and kiss me again. It was an alarming thought, but not a terrible one. Indeed, it was very far from terrible. That made it even more alarming.

Instead, he shook my hand before striding off without another word.

CHAPTER5

Sir Ian and Lady Campbell were both at home. I’d spent a mere two minutes in their company before wishing I’d not sent Harry on his way. He was very good at charming people and I badly needed someone to charm them. It was clear from the moment I introduced myself and mentioned the reason for my visit that I was going to fail miserably. Lady Campbell stiffened and her lips pinched into a thin line, while Sir Ian asked me to leave.

“We have no need of your services,” he said with a haughty jut of his chin. “The footman will see you out.”

Davey had remained by the door, awaiting further instruction. He now indicated I should walk ahead of him out of the drawing room. There was nothing of the cheeky fellow I’d met below stairs the day before. He was quite subdued and upright.

“You don’t understand,” I said to the Campbells. “I’m not touting for business. I’ve already been hired by others to look into Mr. Hardy’s death.”

“Who hired you?” Sir Ian demanded.

“I’m not at liberty to say.”

He took a step toward me, his face and neck turning pinker by the second. They matched his bulbous nose. “I demand you tell me!”

“You can’t make such a demand.”

“I most certainly can. Hardy was our butler.” When I didn’t respond, a vein in his neck began to throb. “This is outrageous! Hardy’s death was not suspicious and that’s the end of it.”

“All I want is a list of Mr. Hardy’s references. I’d like to know where he worked before he came here.”

“You can’t have it.”

“Why not?”