I glanced at Emma, who was helping our lone customer in the cookbook section. She gave a quick nod of her head and said something to the woman while pointing to a shelf.
“I want you to stay away from Lady Dutton-Cox,” the man said. His voice as well as his clothes announced he was used to giving orders.
How had he found out my identity so quickly? I stood staring at him with a puzzled look on my face, while Emma and her customer watched with curiosity.
He lowered his voice. “I know who you really are. Lady Covington, who called on my wife’s mother immediately after you, told us of your true identity.”
The Archivist Society had aided Lady Covington in a previous case. She had been exceedingly grateful for our work, and our discretion. Unfortunately, she must have recognized me when I hurried from Lady Dutton-Cox’s parlor and probably sang our praises using my real name. With that thought, the man’s identity came to me. “You’re Viscount Dalrymple, and this must be your viscountess.” Elizabeth, formerly Dutton-Cox. I dropped them both a quick curtsy. “Now, why do you want me to stay away from Lady Dutton-Cox?”
Elizabeth, who’d been standing back, stepped next to the viscount. She was a stunning brunette with pale skin and flashing eyes. Right then they were flashing with anger and aimed at me. “Mummy’s been through enough by losing Victoria. I want you to leave her alone,” came out in a hiss.
She tugged off one of her gloves. “She thought the sun rose and set on my sister.” Her voice was so low I barely heard her words, but the bitterness of her tone was unmistakable.
“Your mother is being blackmailed by Nicholas Drake, who has since disappeared,” This was only a guess, but I watched their expressions for telltale changes. I was rewarded by a look of surprise followed by discomfort that crossed the viscountess’s face as she glanced at her husband.
“Good,” the woman snapped, yanking off the other glove.
“Why is she being blackmailed?” I asked as the bell over the shop door jingled. The viscount and his bride blocked my view of the new arrival, and I hoped Emma could manage both customers.
“That is neither your business nor mine. The point is, she isn’t any longer. I put a stop to it,” the viscount said.
“Why did you put a stop to it? Why not Lord Dutton-Cox or their son?” I was whispering now, and both Dalrymples were leaning over the counter to hear me. In my peripheral vision, I could see that Emma and the middle-aged woman she’d been waiting on were standing frozen in place watching us keenly. A white-haired man in a clerical collar joined them and looked from them to the three of us in fascination. Maybe drama was good for business. It certainly had been for Shakespeare.
“Because Lord Dutton-Cox sent Drake to me to deal with. I imagine my poor father-in-law had had enough. His daughter had died and his wife was”—he paused—“distraught.”
I would have bet anything the viscount had also smelled liquor on his mother-in-law’s breath. “What could she possibly have done to be blackmailed by Nicholas Drake? They hardly moved in the same circles.”
The viscount lifted his head to look down his patrician nose at me. “As a gentleman, I didn’t think it right to discover their secret. I didn’t ask if it was Lord or Lady Dutton-Cox who was being blackmailed or why Drake felt he could threaten them.” He was slim, fair haired, and blue eyed. Handsome if you liked the classic English aristocratic type. Unfortunately, Blackford had ruined my taste for tame looks with the lightning he left in his wake.
“Could this have anything to do with Lady Dutton-Cox’s claim that Victoria was murdered?” I looked from one to the other. Dalrymple looked puzzled.
Elizabeth stared at me for a minute and appeared to come to a decision. “Mummy’s right. Or at least, I believe she is. Can you imagine the pressure the Duke of Blackford can bring to bear to keep a story like that quiet?”
Her words gave the duke’s interference a whole new meaning. “You think he killed your sister?”
“I wouldn’t be surprised to learn his half sister did. She was high-strung. Flighty. And Victoria called on her shortly before she died.” She leaned forward slightly, her nose still in the air. “Speak to Lady Julia Waxpool about Lady Margaret Ranleigh. You’ll find it more enlightening than speaking to my mother.”
“How would Nicholas Drake have become mixed up in this business?”
“He was there that day. If you want to know why he was blackmailing my mother, you’ll have to ask him. If you can find him.” With a smile to her husband, Elizabeth walked to the door without a glance around her.