“Oh, my goodness! I say—do you really think there may be something going on?” Followed by a dismissive, “Surely not? There are wealthier gentlemen about in London and certainly more illustrious titles to be had, if that’s what she’s after.”
“But not, perhaps, titles attached to such a personable and relatively young man. Idle, elderly earls—two a penny—but an attractive man with an interesting employment and a considerable future?” Lord! What part was he playing now? Marriage broker?
Cecily was all ears and interest. “Yes, indeed. My son, who is all that you say, takes a pride in declaring that he is not a layabout but a working man.”
“A situation which Dorothy is very familiar with. Her father and brothers are all busy bees who know how to keep the hives well stocked.”
“You have a devious mind, Joe Sandilands. I begin to see the possibilities. But—gracious!—this is hardly the moment for James to choose to bring along his … his … raggle-taggle student, the Joliffe woman? Those two were sharing the back seat of the Rolls for sixty miles! What can they possibly have found to say to each other? What must Miss Despond think?”
“Oh, I don’t know … Miss Joliffe is of an artistic family with many friends at—shall we say?—the business end of the art world. They actually apply paint to canvas. I dare say she was able to give Miss Despond insights into Pablo Picasso’s philosophy of art—she is reputed to own one or two of his early works. I noticed the two ladies chose to walk arm in arm into the hall in a companionable way.”
“Mmm … Whatever else, you seem to understand that Dorcas Joliffe is not stupid. I know she has plans of her own for James, plans in which a wealthy rival does not feature. A dangerous little creature! It may suit her well to snuggle in close with a challenger. Shall I ask Styles to mount a guard over Miss Despond while she’s under our roof?”
“Leave it to me. Bodyguarding is something I’m trained for, your ladyship,” Joe said. “The first thing is to plan ahead—never wait for the exchange of fire. Go straight for the enemy as soon as identified, disarm and incapacitate him. I’ll go and renew acquaintance with Miss Joliffe—we have met before on a few occasions. I’ll try to ascertain whether her intentions are peaceable.”
He drifted into the hall where the guests were being allocated footmen and maids to take them to their rooms. Stepping forward, he said, “Thank you, Norman, I’ll take Miss Joliffe upstairs. The Lilac Room was it?”
He grabbed Dorcas’s bag and led the way upstairs to the guest room halfway along the corridor.
“Rather more suitable accommodation than last time, I think you’ll find,” he said, showing her inside and closing the door. “Smaller than the Old Nursery and not so versatile but I’m sure you won’t mind that.” She kept her distance, white-faced and silent. Joe put up an ironic hand, as if to ward off an advance. “No, don’t consider giving me a hug, Dorcas. Apart from Truelove, who treats me as your godfather or something—well, he thinks whatever you’ve told him to think—it’s not generally known that we have a relationship of any kind. Let it stay that way. I’m working. Trying to solve three unlawful killings for one of which you are in the frame. Yes, I’m afraid there are those in this house who would very much like to put the blame for the death of Lady Truelove on you. They see you as an unimportant figure, unconnected and dispensable. They wait to see you being carted off by me to the Yard in cuffs, the arrest photographed by a news magnate who has a convenient camera to hand and a convenient hand to operate it. You may have caught a glimpse of the McIvers’ maid photographing the horse parade? Avoid her lens. Mungo McIver, I believe, is intent on reinstating the reputation of the Minister for Reform in the corridors of Westminster.”
“Westminster?” she asked sharply.
“The House. Where a strong cross-party faction sees him as the saviour of British politics. The only man with the will and ability to recognise and counter the threat of European aggression. He’s a man whose reputation must be protected at all cost.”
“A man particularly popular with a coterie of industrialists in the Midlands whose factories are poised to roll out ever more armament, I think you once told me, Joe. Did you know that’s how Lavinia’s father makes his millions? He provided the wherewithal to take on the Kaiser in the last lot. If Herr Hitler or the Russians were to turn nasty, he’d be a very busy man again.”
“It had occurred to me. Poor, generous old Papa must be a little exercised by the rumours that his son-in-law has bumped off his daughter. I do wonder what his next step might be? Denunciation? Or support and a swift crushing of the rumours by some means or other? Move an innocent pawn into the front line to take the rap? I won’t let that happen! Tread carefully, Dorcas. Better if we keep our distance from each other, and don’t give them an opportunity to cry collusion, I think.”