Page 54 of Not a Fine Gentleman

Chapter 13

Wearing mourning attire, Margaret absently stirred her breakfast tea. Her sister, Rachel, conversed with their sisters-in-law in happy chatter around the table. Margaret glanced up and nodded in an attempt to appear interested in their conversation.

How odd to see them all in black. Because Hennessy had been their brother-in-law, they would wear black for at least a few more weeks. However, it seemed a lie to wear mourning attire for the death of a man none of them loved. Oh, they’d expressed the right amount of regret that a man’s life had ended, and horror that he’d met his fate in such a brutal way, but their lack of true, familial love for him removed any true grief.

Still, Cole was right; a show of family mourning could only help her case. She was doomed to wear black for the requisite year regardless of her personal feelings.

Perhaps she could leave the country and travel. It would give her a change of scenery and the perfect excuse to cast off her widow’s black. She’d always wanted to see a German castle, swim in the French Riviera, and climb an Egyptian Pyramid.

Of course, there was the small matter of clearing herself of murder first.

Rachel touched her hand. “Don’t worry, Meg. I’m certain they will drop the charges before it comes to a trial.”

Margaret looked up at her sister, then widened her gaze to her sisters-in-law at the table. “You believe me innocent, don’t you?”

Five pairs of eyes widened in clear shock that she’d even question their convictions. All of them hastened to reassure her.

When the clamor died down, Rachel leaned forward, her expression filled with earnest compassion. “None of us believe you’re guilty. And the law won’t be in a rush to condemn you, a pillar of society, for the death of a known wastrel.”

“That’s true.” Alicia pointed her butter knife at Rachel to punctuate her remark before she continued spreading jam on her scone. “The sister of an earl as well respected as Cole is not someone whose life they take lightly.”

Elise brushed a golden curl from her cheek. “Really, you have no need to fear.”

Hotly, Jocelyn added, “Whatever evidence the constables think they find will be insufficient since there’s nothing to find.”

Nothing except the article incriminating Grant. And her blood-soaked gown Connor had confiscated.

Connor clearly had not made up his mind about her innocence. Regardless, his admirable commitment to his duty would drive him to gather evidence with impartiality—to her defense or to her condemnation. Or Grant’s.

In the meantime, Hennessy’s last words haunted her. Tal. What did it mean? Perhaps she could find an answer to that.

Margaret put a hand on her forehead. “I feel a headache coming. Excuse me.”

“I’ll have Cook make up a lavender sachet,” Alicia said.

Margaret nodded her thanks as she pushed away from the breakfast table and stood. Her black bombazine mourning gown crinkled as she returned to her bedchamber.

Cole and Alicia had left her bedchamber exactly as it had been in Margaret’s girlhood, with a soft pallet of pink and ivory. It should have felt like an old friend, but instead, the room fit like a pair of shoes she’d outgrown. How young and optimistic she’d been when she’d lived here, filled with ideals and dreams.

Margaret longed to return to her quiet life in the country where her neighbors occasionally sought her advice or her company but mostly left her alone. But that house and property now belonged to her brother-in-law, who’d sooner burn her at the stake than let her live there again. More than ever before, the lure of travel called to her.

Back to the task at hand—proving her innocence. Perhaps Cora could be of some assistance.

She rang for the parlormaid who’d been acting as Margaret’s abigail, but in walked a woman several years her senior. Margaret blinked. Her own lady’s maid, who’d faithfully served her for years, Agatha Taylor, stood in the doorway.

“Taylor!” Margaret took a few steps forward but halted and stifled her impulse to hug the woman. Instead, she settled for giving her a friendly smile. “How did you come to be here?”

“Gibbs dismissed me, but Lady Tarrington contacted the agency and invited me to come serve you here at their household or wherever you end up staying.”

How thoughtful of Alicia, and so like her. “Thank you for returning to me. You’ve always served me so diligently.”

“It’s my pleasure, milady.” The woman smiled affectionately and curtsied.

Margaret added, “You don’t mind that I’m a suspect in Hennessy’s death?”

Taylor humphed. “I don’t for a minute believe you’re a murderess.”

Swallowing her emotion, Margaret fidgeted with the string of pearls around her neck. Finally, when she could speak, she said, “I appreciate your confidence in me.”