Solomon glanced around, almost involuntarily. Constance was turning away from Mortimer, smiling at Mrs. Lance and Miss Fernie. It was Mortimer himself who looked discomfited, blinking rapidly, his half-smile rigid on his lips.
Solomon returned his gaze to Miss Jenson. “I believe Mrs. Silver is the least likely person to be taken in by Mr. Mortimer. Do I take it you do not trust him?”
“He cheats,” Miss Jenson said bluntly. “At cards and love. Jessica—Miss Mortimer—won’t hear a word against him, of course, but I felt as strangers amongst us, you and Mrs. Silver should be warned.”
“Thank you,” Solomon said. He had the feeling she had more to say and was struggling with the impulse.
“You will think me foolish,” she blurted, “or even jealous, but my fear is that no one takes him seriously. And I’m sure he is.”
“You’re sure he is serious?” Solomon said, trying to uncover her true meaning.
“About Jessica? Oh yes. He wants her money very badly. Needs it, in fact. I’m fairly sure he’s living off his expectations as it is, and I don’t know how long he can go on doing that. She has bailed him out several times already—boys will be boys, she says with foolish indulgence—but he doesn’t want to keep begging her for tidbits. He wants it all. Mr. Grey, I’m afraid she is indangerfrom him.”
Solomon’s hands stilled on the cards, his attention all on Miss Jenson, whose color was changing rapidly from pink to white to pink again.
“Did you write a letter to warn her of this?” he asked.
She blinked. “A letter? I told her to her face, but she laughs at me for a silly old fool. She probably thinks I am jealous. And he has probably told herIwant her money.”
He had certainly told Solomon and Constance that.
Solomon shuffled the cards. “Forgive me, but what is your position in Miss Mortimer’s will?”
“I don’t know,” she said impatiently. “What does it matter? I’m five years older and likely to die before her. But I do knowhewill inherit virtually everything, and he is too impatient for that to happen.”
His previous words seemed to come back to her, for she broke off quite suddenly, staring at him, though he could not read her expression. “Letter? You mean Jessica has received one of those nasty letters?”
“I did not say so.” He set the pack of cards on the table. “Would you blame him for that if it were true?”
“For hers? I wouldn’t put it past him, to frighten her or convince her to give him what he wants now… But I can’t see his annoying the Chadwicks with such a thing. After all, he wants their goodwill so he can seduce their daughter!”
“Then he does not seek Miss Chadwick’s hand in marriage?”
“As the master of Mortimer Manor, he probably imagines he can snare an heiress. I don’t think he has any idea how little an estate of this size produces in terms of profit. Even well run as it is.Hewill run it into the ground and have nothing to pass on to his own children, God help them.”
“I see.”
“Do you?”
“Would you like me to speak to Miss Mortimer?”
“She might listen to a stranger more than a friend. Thank you,” she said suddenly, smiling brightly as Dr. Chadwick approached. “A little refreshment would be lovely.”
It was clearly said to prevent any suspicion that their conversation had been serious, but obediently, Solomon rose and went in search of some wine and food for her.
En route to the buffet table, he encountered Constance.
“Miss Fernie is unhappy with both Ogden and school manners,” she murmured for his ears alone. “She likes to be charitable but has no egalitarian leanings. She is, on the other hand, a busybody. And the walking definition of judgmental.”
“What did she tell you?”
“That Alice the vicar’s maid was born out of wedlock, and her mother Mavis no better than she should be. Mavis is never out of the church, apparently, because she has every reason to beg the Lord’s forgiveness.”
“I see. Did she say anything about Mortimer?”
“Neither of the Mortimers in a critical way, nor even Miss Jenson, whom I think she regards as impoverished gentility. Why?”
“Miss Jenson is afraid for Miss Mortimer’s life at her nephew’s hands.”
