“We were friends,” I said, surprised by the intensity of his gaze. “In a social way. We attended the same events, met occasionally at mutual friends’ homes for a salon or afternoon tea.”
“Forgive me, Lady Harleigh, but you were visibly shaken when I mentioned her name. Are you certain you didn’t have more than a nodding acquaintance?”
“Heavens, Inspector, of course I was shaken. I suppose because I’d just heard of her death and had not really absorbed it yet. The murder of a friend, whether close or not, comes as a shock to me. Indeed, we had more than a nodding acquaintance. Over the course of several years, I’ve come to think of her quite highly, but I’d still not say we were close friends.”
He leaned forward in his seat, sliding to the edge of the chair. “So, if you needed someone to confide in, share your troubles with, you would not have turned to Mrs. Archer?”
I blinked. “No, we were certainly not that close.”
Delaney reached into his pocket and removed a small notebook, which he seemed to carry at all times. From the notebook he removed a folded sheet of paper. Reaching across the table he handed it to me. “Any idea how she might have come by this information?”
Curious, I took the sheet, noting the elegant writing as I first scanned the contents, then gave it a second, more thorough reading. I dropped my hand to my lap, the paper still tucked in my fingers, while my other hand drifted up to my mouth, seemingly of its own volition, likely for the purpose of containing the foul curses trembling on my tongue.
The note contained a complete summary of what I referred to as the battle of my bank account. A bitter and hard-fought battle with my brother-in-law, Graham, the Earl of Harleigh. We eventually forged a truce and Graham withdrew his suit, but the matter was of such a personal nature only my immediate family and two close friends knew of it—well, and Inspector Delaney. I lifted my gaze to find him observing me closely. “This was in Mary’s possession? However did she learn of it?”
“You never told her about this dispute?”
“Of course not.”
“Is there any chance that the earl did, or perhaps his late wife might have done so?”
I would have dismissed the idea but Delaney’s penetrating stare forced me to give it some consideration. “Obviously I couldn’t say for certain, but I can’t imagine either of them sharing this information with her, or anyone else. It does not reflect well on them. I should think they’d be even more careful than I to ensure no one heard of it.”
“That’s rather what I thought.” He let out a weary breath. “Would the earl have been careful enough to pay Mrs. Archer for her silence on the matter?”
I leaned back as if I could distance myself from such a distasteful implication. “Are you suggesting blackmail? I can’t believe Mary would do such a thing.” I glanced down at the paper in my hands, assailed by confusion. How had she come by this information, and why would she document it? Perhaps the inspector was correct in his assumption.
Delaney tapped his pencil against the open page of his book, waiting for an answer. Had Mary committed blackmail and been murdered for her effort? Heavens, he wasn’t here to tell me of her murder; he was investigating it. I drew a breath, releasing it with a shudder. “She never approached me with the threat of exposure. Graham is a grieving widower.” I raised my hands in confusion. “No one with any decency would threaten someone in that state.”
Delaney reached out for the note. Much as I wanted to burn it, I handed it back. I suppose he’d need it as evidence. “I’m inclined to agree with you,” he said. “But I’ll have to speak to the earl before I can eliminate him as a suspect.”
“As a suspect in Mary’s murder? You can’t be serious.”
The furrows in Delaney’s brow told me he was dead serious. A chill came over me as I felt a moment of doubt. Graham and I had been on opposite sides of a battle in the past. He was not an easy man to deal with when thwarted. But murder? Well, I simply couldn’t imagine it. For one thing, it would require entirely too much effort on his part.
I pressed a finger against my temple as I watched him fold the page, and my secrets, back into the book. “Well, I must say I’ve had far too many shocks for one day. I’ve just learned my friend has been murdered. You announce she may have been a blackmailer. And to top things off, I learn my brother-in-law may be a suspect. I suppose I should be relieved you don’t consider me as one.”
He gave me a wry smile. “I can’t see you committing this crime, no. You shouldn’t worry overmuch about the earl being a suspect either. He’s only one of perhaps a hundred.”
It took a moment for his words to register. “A hundred suspects?” I gave my head a shake in an attempt to clear it. “Are you saying you found more of these potential blackmail notes?”
He stood to take his leave and gave me a stony glare. “I’m saying nothing of the kind, and though I doubt I can keep you from sharing this information with your brother-in-law, I would greatly appreciate it if you would otherwise keep this conversation to yourself.” He released a sigh that spoke of mental exhaustion. “It might take weeks to interview all the suspects, and I would prefer they have no advance warning.”
Good Lord, there were other notes. “How had I misjudged her character to such a degree? Heavens, to think I was trying to make a match between Mary and my cousin.” My shoulders drooped. “Well, no wonder things didn’t work out.”
Delaney, who had been on the point of departure, stopped and turned, regarding me with great forbearance. Oh, dear. I may have just given him suspect number one hundred and one. He lumbered back over to the chair he’d just vacated and sat down. “Lady Harleigh, when I asked how well you knew Mrs. Archer, this is the type of thing you should have told me.”
I chewed on my lower lip, assessing the level of his anger. The inspector possessed a great deal of patience and I had a tendency of putting it to the test now and again. But Cousin Charles seemed an even less likely suspect than Graham. “I suppose you’re right, Inspector, but I was not intentionally withholding evidence. You were speaking of blackmail earlier and that had nothing to do with Mr. Evingdon.” My gaze sharpened. “Unless, of course, you found a note about him, too.”
“I haven’t read them all so it’s possible we have one, but let’s put blackmail aside for now. Perhaps it would be best if you’d just tell me what you know of this Mr. Evingdon and his relationship with Mrs. Archer, so I can decide if he should be considered as a suspect.” He tipped his head to the side. “I’m assuming he did have a relationship with Mrs. Archer?”
It might be for the best, but I’d prefer to tell him nothing. I exhaled a huff of breath to show my indignation, but Delaney only raised his brows in response. Fine. “Charles Evingdon is cousin to my late husband and of course, the current earl. He’s also a friend of Mr. Hazelton.” Delaney knew and respected George, so I was hoping that would be a point in Charles’s favor.
“He’s lately been considering marriage and asked me to introduce him to a suitable lady. Considering his character, personality, and needs, Mary seemed to be a good match. I introduced them a few weeks ago, and to the best of my knowledge, they were simply becoming acquainted with one another. I heard he escorted her to a few events, but whether he was actively courting her, I couldn’t say.”
Delaney retrieved the notebook from his pocket and scribbled a few lines. Lovely. Charles was now a suspect.
“I can also tell you I spoke with him today. He told me he no longer wished to pursue the relationship.”
“Did he now? Any reason for his change of heart?”
How to explain? “In a rambling, roundabout way he told me it would be ungentlemanly to explain their differences. He would only say they didn’t suit.”
Delaney didn’t need to say a word. His expression was that of