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“Oh yes.” Charlotte pressed a hand to her chest. “So, this morning, I walked past her room...I’d risen early because you know what Mrs. Cooke is like when we have to clean the floors and I am such a heavy sleeper so I was determined I would not be late...”
“Past whose room?”
“Rose’s.”
Chastity lifted a brow. “You think she’s the killer?”
Charlotte nodded vigorously. “She was crying. Awful great big sobs. You could not help but hear them. I stopped by the door and I was about to walk in when I heard her say Julian’s name. Well, we all assumed Julian was courting someone, but we never realized it might be her.”
“She lied to me,” Chastity breathed. “She said she thought Julian was courting a girl from home. I did not even detect a flicker of emotion.”
Charlotte shrugged. “If she’s a killer, who knows what sort of person she is?” She clapped hands to her cheeks. “Good Lord, to think I’ve been sleeping with only a wall between me and a murderess.”
“Did she see you?”
She grimaced. “She did. I offered her a shoulder to cry on, but she shut the door on me.”
“She might know you are onto her.” Chastity nibbled on the end of a finger. “We should confront her before she has a chance to do anything else. She might run if she fears you will connect her to Julian’s death.”
“My thoughts exactly. Why do you think I sprinted all the way over here?”
“Sprinted?”
Charlotte grinned. “Very well, I took a hack.”
“I’ll pay you back.”
“You will not. This is the most fun I have had in forever.” Her face turned ashen. “That is to say...I’m not glad Julian was killed...” She pressed a hand to her forehead. “Oh dear.”
Chastity put a hand to her arm. “I know exactly what you mean, do not fear. Now let us go and confront this killer.”
∞∞∞
“Lane, fetch me a cravat.”
Valentine might well have declared he was to jump into the Thames naked and intended to swim all the way to France. His valet’s mouth fell open, his eyes bulged. To give Lane credit, he recovered quickly and adopted a neutral expression.
“I shall have one ready for this evening.”
“No. I wish to wear one now.”
If he thought he’d flummoxed Lane before, he’d seen nothing. It was amusing really. He should do it more often. He smirked at his reflection in the long bedroom mirror that hung above the washstand while Lane flailed for a response.
Stubble had returned swiftly to his jawline after last night and he briefly debated shaving but there was only so much a man could do to win the favor of a woman. Besides, Chastity had declared a love for running her fingers through his beard.
With any luck, she might declare a love for him after today.
“I—” Lane took a step toward the door and paused. “For today?” he repeated.
“Yes, Lane,” Valentine intoned. “I need to make a visit.”
“Today?”
“Lane,” he snapped.
Lane straightened and gave a brief bow. “I shall need to fetch one from the laundry, my lord. I have none ready.”
Valentine ignored Lane’s accusatory tone. It was hardly his fault he needed to spruce himself up to visit Chastity. As much as he would happily consign all his cravats to live in the laundry forever, he could hardly turn up at the duke’s house cravatless, especially if her father or brother were there.
