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Harmony sprang off the sofa and smoothed down the skirt of her maid’s uniform. “Good afternoon, Mr. Bainbridge, Miss Fox. I was just finishing up in here.” She picked up the feather duster she must have brought in with her in case she needed to pretend to be working and flicked it over the table.
Floyd took the feather duster off her and pointed it at the sofa. “You’re not fooling me. I know you help Cleo with her investigations, so you may as well sit down and listen to what I have to say, too.”
She sat on the sofa, feet together and hands primly in her lap. She wasn’t prepared to let her guard down with a member of my family the way she did with me.
“Cleo asked about Broadman and Hardwick. I don’t really know the latter. He seems like a serious chap. He doesn’t carouse with the rest of us, doesn’t gamble or drink much. Keeps to himself.” He shrugged.
“So there are no rumors about him?” I asked.
“None. No one talks about him at all. It’s a little sad.”
“It sounds perfect.” I gave him a pointed look. “If only no one gossiped about me.”
“Don’t flirt with handsome Americans and no one will.”
“We weren’t flirting, we were talking. It would have been a dull evening if we stayed silent. Now, about Mr. Broadman. Does he have a mistress at the moment?”
“Not that I know of. The last one decided to retire from the stage and marry a shopkeeper. Tragic loss.”
“And Vernon Rigg-Lyon’s mistress? Tell us about her.”
“Rosa Rivera is a singer. In fact, she’ll be performing at tonight’s concert.” He hitched up his trouser legs and sat in an armchair. “Cleo, send up for something to eat from the kitchen, will you? I’m starving.”
I ordered him a bacon and egg sandwich through the brass speaking tube that connected the room to the kitchen, then joined him and Harmony in the sitting room again. “Some people are saying Broadman and Rigg-Lyon’s pre-match argument was about a woman.”
“That’s what I heard, too. It’s not surprising, since Broadman made a play for Rosa Rivera, so they say.”
“He was trying to steal Rigg-Lyon’s mistress?”
“Something like that. Apparently Broadman is going around today saying it was all a misunderstanding that the two of them cleared up, but I don’t know when they got together to talk about it. The match was soon after the argument, and then Rigg-Lyon died shortly after the match.”
“So Broadman’s lying.”
“That’s the general consensus.”
“What other gossip did you overhear today?”
“Just that the two men were fierce rivals, which we already knew.”
“Ah yes. Apparently, there isn’t enough room for two popular, athletic men in London society.” I rolled my eyes. “There must have been more to their rift than a little sporting rivalry.”
“Little?” Floyd snorted. “Clearly you don’t know men very well.”
“Did they often argue in public?” Harmony asked.
Floyd shook his head. “Their rivalry played out in quiet corners, with whispered accusations about each other in their own respective circles. One would tell his friends he suspected the other of cheating. The other would hear and counter-accuse his rival of doing the same. It was tit-for-tat, with each group of friends taking sides against the other. There was no crossover of group members. One could not be a chum to Broadman and also be part of Rigg-Lyon’s inner circle. It just wasn’t done.”
“Did anyone get to the bottom of the cheating accusations?” Harmony asked. “The club manager or the bookmakers?”
“There is no gambling in polo.”
Harmony and I both scoffed.
“There isn’t. It’s a gentleman’s sport. Matches are played for the enjoyment of the game, not for money. The only point of winning yesterday was pride. It allowed Rigg-Lyon to go one-up over Broadman, something he would have enjoyed immensely if Broadman did, in fact, try to steal his mistress.”
I tapped my finger on the chair arm as I thought. “I’ll try to speak to Rosa Rivera tonight to find out if the rumor is true.”
Floyd shook his head. “Not tonight. You need to get her alone to ask that sort of thing, and tonight she’ll always be in the company of others. Trust me. I know how busy it can get backstage.”
