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“That was bizarre,” Kitty observed once they shut the door behind them.
“Whatever do you think they were talking about? Mr. Tremore looked furious.” Downright murderous might be a more apt description.
“Well, we know one thing for certain now. Renwood is definitely the cause of Mr. Barrow’s strange behavior. I wonder if Sebastian and Amberwood are in on whatever it is. It would certainly explain their outings.”
Francesca frowned as they ambled through the village and back to the road. “I just don’t understand what business a gambling den owner who almost never leaves London would have at some random estate.”
“Well, perhaps an interrogation is in order. I say we get Sophie and corner the other two.”
“I fear that may be our only option.” Arthur was being stubbornly tight-lipped on the matter, and she suspected he wouldn’t budge, no matter how much she pushed. Even in the face of the obvious, he’d continued his subterfuge. If she wanted to learn more, Francesca would need to get creative. Mr. Tremore had been so angry, and Arthur so severe. Whatever secrets he was hiding must be grave indeed. Festoon Hall loomed in the distance, the usually cheerful facade appearing more intimating than normal. Was this really such a good idea? Was it even any of her business? Francesca buried the uncomfortable thoughts. James had held secrets too, secrets that ultimately proved to be her undoing.
Chapter Eleven
“Darling? Might we speak to you for a moment?” Sophie inquired from the threshold of Jasper’s study. Francesca stood behind, nervously peering over her shoulder.
Her cousin glanced up from his ledgers with a sunny smile. “Of course.” He looked over his wife’s shoulder with a curious expression. “Francesca as well? Is everything alright?”
“Everything is fine,” Sophie replied quickly, walking through the threshold and gesturing for her to follow. “We just have some questions.”
After returning to the house and informing Sophie about the incident at the inn, the three of them agreed that something suspicious was afoot. While Kitty interrogated her husband, Sophie and Francesca were to inquire with Jasper, as the affable man would likely be the easiest of the two to crack. After seating herself beside Sophie in front of Jasper’s desk, Francesca decided to put in the first word. “There was an incident at the inn earlier today.”
Her confidence wavered when Jasper stiffened, the smile on his face faltering. “You mean that confrontation Barrow had with William Tremore?” He shook his head with a mild chuckle and set aside the paper he’d been writing upon. “The lad apparently mistook him for someone else, and it was all quite a lark. Barrow set things straight before returning.”
“He didn’t tell me that.” Arthur hadn’t told her anything, to be more precise as she hadn’t even seen the man since leaving the inn, him no doubt having snuck off to wherever he hid these days in a bid to avoid her prying. Jasper’s explanation was laughable considering what she had heard, but Francesca had a feeling he knew it too from the way he refused to meet her eyes.
“Why would he?” her cousin said. “It was such a minor affair, and you two hardly know each other.” He looked at her in a new, considering way, and Francesca realized the error of her earlier words. “Unless there is something I am unaware of?”
She struggled for a response, but Sophie salvaged things in the nick of time. “The scene Francesca came upon was very heated for a simple misunderstanding, not to mention the bits of their conversation that were heard. It’s only natural she would want an update after seeing such dramatics. Kitty was quite worried as well.”
While the response seemed to take Jasper off the scent of her relationship with Arthur, they did not have the intended effect of him admitting to his falsehood. “I’m sure you only caught snippets of the discussion and misheard,” he said to them with a tight smile.
Sophie’s placid air dissipated. “Husband.”
The smile strained on his face. “Wife.”
“This house party had been rather peculiar. Surely you didn’t think I wouldn’t find it odd when you suddenly proclaimed a desire for the countryside, when I know how much you enjoy every minute of the season?”
And finally, with the pressure from his beloved wife, Jasper cracked. “Very well. I will admit that there is more to this,” he said with a resigned sigh.
“I knew it,” Francesca said, triumphant.
That success immediately withered when Jasper crossed his arms with a resolute frown. “I will say nothing more on the matter for the moment.”
“Jasper,” Sophie said with exasperation.
“It is a delicate affair, and I will not elaborate without Barrow’s permission,” he replied.
Sophie put a hand on Francesca’s knee, narrowing her eyes on Jasper, who fidgeted under his wife’s scrutiny. “Will you leave us a moment?”
Francesca heard Jasper swallow thickly, and though she wanted to stay, she knew that leaving him in the clutches of an irate Sophie would be her best shot at wheedling more from him. “Very well.” After quietly leaving the room, she waited until the door shut behind her and then scowled. “Blast.”
“I see your little investigation into my affairs has borne little fruit.”
She froze at the smooth voice and looked up to see Arthur down the hall. He leaned a shoulder against the wall, his face one of casual amusement, but Francesca knew better than to believe the front. “I was worried about you.”
He rose a sarcastic eyebrow. “Surely you didn’t think that lad was any match for me?”
“Of course not,” she replied, irritation brewing despite her best efforts to remain calm. “But you cannot expect me to remain quiet after what I heard.”
