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When a ball is heldonce a week, they cease to be special. More often than not, I found them exhausting. There were all the dress fittings in the weeks beforehand, the hours of preparation on the day, the last-minute adjustments to hairstyles, not to mention the sore feet on the night, the pressure to fill silences with witty conversation, and the late finish. It was enough to make even the most exuberant girl groan when she received yet another invitation. The smart hostess held her event earlier in the social season, when guests were fresh and before couples had been paired.
Sometimes, however, I still found them worth attending. As information-gathering sessions, they could prove valuable to an investigation. The one held around the corner from Mrs. Rigg-Lyon’s house promised to be one such event with both Mr. Broadman and his cousin, Mr. Liddicoat, in attendance.
The house wasn’t grand so the guest list was small enough that the evening felt more intimate. I’d met everyone at least once at other events, which would usually make for an enjoyably full evening. But tonight, I would have preferred to blend into the walls and observe one of our main suspects.
On the few occasions I was able to surreptitiously watch Mr. Broadman, he appeared unaffected by the death of his polo rival. He was amiable and flirtatious. Occasionally, he turned grave, but only when others mentioned the demise of Vernon Rigg-Lyon.
Mr. Liddicoat stayed glued to his cousin’s side. This fact wasn’t lost on me or Miss Hessing, who lamented that she couldn’t speak to him alone when we met at the refreshment table.
“I would very much like to know if he is all right,” she said as we studied the array of sliced ham, cold tongue, sandwiches and fowl that had been cut into bite-sized portions. “But I can’t get him away from Mr. Broadman.”
I selected a sandwich from the silver platter. “Mr. Liddicoat seems kind-hearted.”
“Oh, he is.” She sighed dreamily as her gaze searched out her paramour.
He didn’t notice, however. He was at Mr. Broadman’s side, listening intently to something he said to another gentleman.
“Should I go to him?” she asked. “Perhaps I should. It would look odd if I don’t. Everyone has seen us dance together on numerous occasions, so they would wonder why we haven’t danced tonight. They’ll think we’ve had a falling out when that is quite untrue. My mother won’t mind.”
I placed a hand on her arm to show my support. “I’m sure she won’t. She hasn’t forbidden you to see him, after all, so you can speak to whomever you want. I think it’s a good idea to speak to Mr. Liddicoat. The other fellow is moving off and he and Mr. Broadman are alone by the tea table.”
She smiled in relief at my suggestion and was about to join them when she paused. She bent down to my level. “Don’t look now, Miss Fox, but Mr. Miller is watching you from the other side of the room.”
I took her advice and kept my gaze on the refreshments table. I didn’t want to encourage Mr. Miller. Although we’d had one dance together, I’d made sure not to find myself trapped with him since. It was a shame that my family was trying to match us, as I would like to have a conversation with him without it implying something more.
“Now Sir Ronald is with him,” Miss Hessing whispered. “They’re both looking this way. You should go to them. I think Mr. Miller would be very pleased if you did.”
“I’d rather speak to your Mr. Liddicoat.”
“You don’t like Mr. Miller? He seems nice and is very handsome. My mother knows his family and she claims they’re hardworking to the point of being a little dull, which is not the negative she makes it out to be.” She gave me a cheeky smirk. “If my mother finds someone interesting, you should run the other way.”
“He is nice, but he’s not for me. It’s better to let other girls know he’s available if I have no intentions towards him myself. Speaking of other girls, there are two making a beeline for Mr. Liddicoat. We have to hurry if we want to get there first.”
We took our supper plates and joined Mr. Broadman and Mr. Liddicoat before the two other ladies who’d spotted them alone reached them. The prettier one pursed her lips at seeing her quarry caught, but the other girl merely shrugged and moved towards the refreshment table. I turned my back to Uncle Ronald and Mr. Miller but still felt their gazes on me.
Mr. Liddicoat and Mr. Broadman greeted us with gentlemanly bows. Mr. Liddicoat immediately sidled closer to Miss Hessing, asking her in a quiet voice if she was well and enjoying the night. His tone was intimate, even if his questions were not.
Mr. Broadman was therefore stuck with me. “It’s a pleasure to see you again, Miss Fox, albeit under pleasanter circumstances.”
“Indeed. Nasty business on Saturday. Have you recovered from the shock?”
“Not entirely, but I’m keeping busy and trying not to think about it. My cousin was just telling me you’re related to the Bainbridges. Lady Bainbridge is your aunt, I believe.”
“She is. I moved into the Mayfair Hotel just before Christmas. I lived in Cambridge before that.”
“That’s quite a move for a young lady on her own. It mustn’t have been easy for you.”
I blinked in surprise. Not many people acknowledged how difficult it had been for me to move to a new city, leaving behind everything and everyone I knew. I’d not expected him to be so empathetic.
“I’m about to move myself.” He nodded at Mr. Liddicoat, still talking quietly to Miss Hessing. “My cousin suggested we lease some rooms together. We move in this week. It’ll be quite a change for us both, having to share.”
There was only one reason two gentlemen bachelors shared lodgings—it lowered the cost for each. Well, there was another reason, but I didn’t think either Mr. Broadman or Mr. Liddicoat was the sort of man who preferred each other over women.
I wondered if Harry knew about Mr. Liddicoat’s financial predicament and had noted it in his report to Mrs. Hessing. I didn’t want to ask in case he hadn’t. He’d feel obliged to add it, and I didn’t want Mrs. Hessing to use it as a reason to keep Mr. Liddicoat away from her daughter.
But what if Mr. Liddicoat’s situation was precisely the reason why he was pursuing an heiress in the first place?
My thoughts and the conversation were in danger of being diverted down a path that wouldn’t help me solve the murder, so I steered it back. “What will happen to the Polo and Gun Club’s main team now that Mr. Rigg-Lyon is gone and Mr. Hardwick is retiring? Do you think he’ll come out of retirement to honor his fallen captain?”
