Page 82 of A Dangerous Vision

“My husband was not a terribly kind man. In fact, he was sometimes cruel.” She fixed her gaze on Electra. “I was only partially truthful when I spoke to you, Miss Poole. He never made any provision for me, but he died a year ago, not two months ago.”

She did not apologize outright, but there was a bit of sadness, perhaps regret, in her eyes.

“Something about being a man's paramour seemed the perfect solution. I would have freedom. Money. A roof over my head. And yet not have to contend with a cruel husband or the other drudgeries of being a wife.”

“But Percival Pennington did not offer you that?” Electra asked.

“I thought he might at one point. He spoke of it. We even discussed the terms, but then he became…infatuated with another. A lady he wanted to marry, though she was already married.”

Electra’s muscles tensed, recalling the day Mrs. Devlin had arrived at Cordelia’s. “And when did you discover who that lady was?”

Mrs. Devlin met her gaze squarely, as if she was recalling their first encounter too. “I learned of her from a man named Roderick Beecham. His daughter had been engaged to Pennington. He accosted me in the park and said quite horrible things about Percival, though none of them surprised me.”

“What made you disguise yourself and go to Lady Redmayne’s home under false pretenses?” Gideon asked, his voice suddenly less gentle.

Mrs. Devlin bit her lip and cast her gaze at the unlit fire grate. “I can hardly credit my actions now. But at the time, hearing about this other lady who had captured Percival’s attention, I felt such savage jealousy.”

She looked back at them and tucked a long, loose curl of auburn hair behind her ear. “Which was strange because I had not given my heart to Percival, yet I have always been too curious for my own good. I wanted to see the lady for myself, or at least the way she lived, in an elegant townhouse in a fine London square.”

“And how did you know to find her through me?” Electra asked.

Mrs. Devlin met her gaze again. “I have known one noblewoman in my life. I met her as part of a ladies’ charity. A Miss Ellsworth.”

A chill settled on Electra’s shoulders. She had met Miss Ellsworth during the course of the Lady Becknell investigation the previous year.

“I thought she might know Lady Redmayne and considered asking for an introduction. But as she spoke of her, she mentioned you, Miss Poole. Your gifts quite fascinated her. And she mentioned that you resided with Lady Redmayne at Russell Square.”

Mrs. Devlin lifted her free hand and nervously ran her fingers along the seam of her bodice. “I feared speaking to Lady Redmayne directly. Not fear of her, mind you. But of him. Of Percival. He was a man of stormy moods. Yet that wasn’t enough to keep me from wanting to learn more about her.”

“So, you wrote to me.”

“Forgive me for the subterfuge, Miss Poole, but yes. I wrote to you, arranged the time, and went. Looking back, it does not make much sense to me. But at the time, my curiosity was insatiable. And I suppose my resentment as well. I had hoped Percival would offer me the kind of life I craved.”

Gideon shifted his chair and made a sound of consternation. “So, you did all this because you were curious about the lady who’d captured the affections of a man you say you felt no real affection for?”

Electra felt it then. That same ripple of unease she had sensed the moment Demeter Devlin walked into Cordelia’s drawing room. Was it deceit she was sensing?

“Did you hope to blackmail him?” Gideon asked matter-of-factly.

Eleanor Mahoney gasped. Her sister's eyes narrowed. But then she breathed deeply, seeming to steel herself.

“The thought did cross my mind, Inspector.” She sniffed after the admission.

Miss Mahoney pulled a handkerchief from her pocket and offered it to her sister. Mrs. Devlin waved it away.

“Percival was a wealthy man, set to become more so if he married Miss Beecham. Lady Redmayne seemed the wrench in the works, if you will. But I knew he would wish to protect her.”

“So, when you left the Redmaynes’, where did you go?” Gideon asked. “To seek out Pennington and threaten him?”

Mrs. Devlin blinked as if surprised by the sharpness of his tone and pointedness of the question.

“To my lodgings on Regent Square for a while,” she said pertly, “but I simply stewed in my frustration and jealousy. Not of Percival’s affections, but of Lady Redmayne’s wealth. Her lovely home.”

“And then what did you do?” Gideon hadn’t written much in his notepad. He kept his attention focused entirely on Mrs. Devlin’s face, watching, no doubt, for emotions that did not match her claims.

“I sought out Percival at his club, the one place I knew he would never wish to see me.” A bitter laugh escaped. “They would not admit me, of course, but he came out to meet me. He was angry, as I knew he would be. Even that thrilled me somehow.”

She shook her head. “It was a kind of madness. I felt he had used me poorly, yet what I did with him, I did of my own accord for the money he gave me. I never refused him.”