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I laughed. “Do you have dueling pistols?”
“Alas, no.” He sighed theatrically. “The fellow should count himself lucky.”
I continued to smile as we chatted throughout the waltz. Mr. Miller was a good dancer and a better conversationalist, a combination that meant the time passed quickly.
I enjoyed myself until I spotted my aunt and uncle watching us. Aunt Lilian’s foot tapped on the floor in time to the music and one swaying hand conducted the string quartet. She must be in the throes of her tonic. She’d taken a dose just before we left the hotel, but that would have worn off some time ago. She must have it with her and taken more to get her through the evening.
It was worrying, but what worried me more was the small smile both she and my uncle sported. It was the sort of smile I gave Miss Hessing and Mr. Liddicoat when I saw them together.
“Your cousin is trying to get your attention.”
I followed Mr. Miller’s gaze to see Floyd standing at the edge of the circle of dancers. He mouthed “After the dance” and jerked his head towards the exit. Considering Floyd wanted to pair me with Mr. Miller, it must be important for him to call me away.
“It’s probably something to do with the investigation,” I murmured.
“What investigation?”
I bit the inside of my lower lip. I’d been so distracted by Floyd, and so comfortable with Mr. Miller, that I’d forgotten to be careful. While I didn’t care who knew that I worked as a private investigator, Uncle Ronald would be furious to know I’d let it slip to a guest.
I was debating whether to brush him off, deny it, or admit the truth when Mr. Miller gave me no option.
“Miss Fox?” he pressed. “Are you and your cousins detectives?”
“Just me, although they’re both sources of information on occasion.”
“I see. And on this occasion? What are you investigating?”
“The murder of the polo player.”
He mistimed a step, causing me to stumble. He caught me around the waist, then resumed his smooth rhythm. “I thought you were going to tell me that you find lost dogs or misplaced items. Murder is…well, it’s dangerous.”
“I’m very careful.”
We continued dancing in silence for a few moments, but I could tell his thoughts were brewing. Finally, he told me what was on his mind. “I think having a hobby that engages the mind is admirable in an unmarried lady.”
“But not in a married one?”
“She’d be too busy for investigating. Married women have a great deal on their plates. They raise children, manage a household, organize charity functions. It’s not a light load. We men have an easier time of it. We just go to the office each day.” This he said with a soft laugh, so I assumed it was meant as a joke. “I do know one married lady who writes articles for a women’s journal. She does it in the evenings when she has no social engagements.”
“Perhaps that’s not enough for some women.” I gave him a perfunctory smile. “Excuse me, Mr. Miller, this must be important or Floyd wouldn’t interrupt.”
I moved away as the dance ended, but not before I saw Mr. Miller’s look of confusion. I wasn’t sure what confused him. The fact that I investigated murders or that my family knew about it and even helped occasionally? Probably all of it.
I joined Floyd, but instead of telling me why he wanted to speak to me, he led the way out of the ballroom.
“Floyd? What is it? What do you want to tell me?”
“It’s not me who wants to talk to you.” He trotted down the stairs so quickly that I couldn’t keep up.
I picked up my skirts and raced after him. “Floyd, slow down. Who wants to speak to me?”
“Armitage, another fellow who looks vaguely familiar, and Miss Cotton.”
If Harmony, Harry and Victor were here, then it could only mean one thing. They’d discovered something unexpected at Mrs. Rigg-Lyon’s house. Something that urgently required my attention.
Chapter7
Ifollowed Floyd down the stairs to the entrance foyer where a footman stood guard, determined not to let Harry, Harmony and Victor go any further. Dressed in black overalls, caps and gloves, they clearly weren’t guests. Even Harmony wore an outfit more suited to a burglar than a maid. She clutched a small book in one hand; their evening had been fruitful.
