Page 54 of A Duchess of Mystery

“Did you speak to him?” Richard asked, his voice stern. “And do not forget that we already have the testimony of others.” Not quite true, as so far they’d only heard from a few of the indoor servants, but Jem wasn’t to know they hadn’t already spoken to the other stable staff. He might even think he’d been overheard speaking to Barker, if they were lucky.

Jem took on an even more hunted demeanor. His overconfidence must have all been a show. “I might have done. I don’t rightly remember. I was busy in the stableyard with my chores. There was water to take out to the horses what’d brought the guests to the ball, and sweeping up to do.” Now he sounded sullen, as though he resented having had to work.

Richard’s gaze never wavered. The lad was on the back foot now, making any excuse he could think of. They probably weren’t going to have to talk to young Jack. With every word he uttered, Jem was digging himself in deeper. Had it not crossed his mind, or Barker’s, that they would search for whoever claimed to have witnessed the murder? Perhaps he was no brighter than poor Jack, after all.

“Well, think about it a bit harder and tell us what was said to you.” This was Amos, his bushy gray brows lowered over fiercely angry eyes, enough to quail the most cocky of young grooms. And Jem might already be in awe of his boss.

Jem swallowed. “Some bloke came asking me if I worked here,” he mumbled. “I said as I did.” He had balled his cap up in his hands.

“Go on,” Richard said. “I want the truth, mind.”

A war was going on, clearly written across Jem’s face. “He wanted to know if I’d seen anything on the night the old duke died.” He dropped his gaze to his hands.

“And what did you say?” Richard asked, menace in his tone now.

Jem shifted on his seat. “I said as I didn’t know nothing.”

Richard glanced at his fellow inquisitors. Amos shook his head, the scowl still on his face. Mrs. Barnes’s lips were pressed in a thin line of reproval. Atkins was glaring at Jem. “Did this man offer you money? Think carefully before you answer this. We want the truth.”

Jem kept his head down and stayed silent, as if that wasn’t a dead giveaway.

“Answer His Grace,” Atkins snapped. “You are in grave danger here, young man. And if you lie, the danger will only increase. Believe me. Giving false evidence is a serious offence punishable by a long sentence and perhaps transportation.”

Jem’s face blanched. “He did,” he mumbled.

Atkins pounced. “For what? You had seen nothing. What could he possibly have wanted you to say?”

Jem lifted terrified eyes, tears glistening in them. “He wanted me to say I’d seen the duchess shoot the duke. I said I couldn’t, because I hadn’t, but he was… he was forceful, like. He kept telling me I must’ve seen it, through a window or something. I said as I hadn’t, but he said if I said I had, he’d pay me.” Red spots flared on his ashen cheeks. “He said as he’d come back later on and see me right if I’d sign a statement for him. He come back this morning. With a piece of paper.”

“Can you read?” Richard asked.

Jem shook his head. “No, Your Grace, I can’t. I can sign my name, but can’t write nor read. I never went to school, see, but my ma, she learned me to sign my name.”

“So you didn’t even know what you were signing?”

Jem shook his head. “I didn’t sign it. He wanted me to, but I wouldn’t. I said as I’d changed my mind and the duchess was a lovely lady what I couldn’t tell lies about. Not for anything.” His hand went to his trouser pocket. “I was going to send most of it back to my ma. She needs it now my pa can’t do nothing on the farm no more, and the rent’s due on the next Quarter Day, and it’s gone up this year, and my brother don’t have the money to pay it.” He paused, and a couple of the tears escaped and ran down his cheeks. “I thought as I could help them stay on in the farm if I did what the feller wanted. But in the end, I couldn’t do it.”

Richard’s anger, which had been mounting, subsided a little. “You wanted the money for your mother?”

Jem nodded. “I was going to keep just a little bit back and buy my girl something pretty.”

Richard exchanged glances with Atkins, who raised his eyebrows in question. For a moment, Richard did nothing, digesting the idea that one of the tenants, his tenants now, was in such dire straits that their son had been forced to resort to dishonesty to raise the money for their rent. Although this reflected harshly on Marcus, it also did so on him.

“I’m sorry your family is in such dire straits,” Richard said. “And I will endeavor to help you and them. I believe you when you say you refused the temptation of the bribe, and I praise you for it. Now. Think hard. When you turned him down, where were you?”

“In the stableyard, near the tackroom.”

“And was anyone else about who could have overheard your words?”

Jem’s brow puckered as he thought.

Richard waited.

The boy was clearly trying to go over the events of the morning. Eventually, he lifted his eyes and looked Richard in the face. “There was. Mr. Hopkins was there, what used to be the duke’s valet but he’s now just a footman. He was there polishing his shoes. Cook don’t let the servants do that in her kitchen. She makes’em do it outside, even if it’s raining.”

“Mr. Hopkins?” Had Richard even laid eyes on this man? He was ashamed to admit that in the ten days or so he’d been at Stourbridge he’d not taken an awful lot of notice of the individual servants. Another thing to chide himself with.

Atkins spoke. “He stayed on after the duke’s death because he hoped that when a new duke arrived he, I mean you, would be in need of a highly trained valet.” He cleared his throat. “He has been most discontented since he discovered you had brought Mr. Baxter with you from your army days.”