“I see.”
“Respectable ladies of a certain age who find themselves alone in the world, possessed of an income and who are considering marriage.”
Baxter placed his spectacles on his nose with grave precision. His alchemist’s eyes gleamed. “And just what sort of services do you provide for these ladies?”
“I conduct inquiries for them. Very discreet inquiries.”
“Inquiries into what?”
She cleared her throat. “Into the backgrounds of the gentlemen who wish to marry them.”
He gazed at her for a long moment. “Their backgrounds?”
“It is my task, sir, indeed, my calling, to assist such ladies in ascertaining that the men who express a desire to marry them are not fortune hunters, opportunists, or rakehells. I help them avoid the perils and pitfalls such women inevitably face.”
An acute silence fell on the study. Baxter stared at her.
“Good God,” he said eventually.
Charlotte bristled. So much for hoping that he would be favorably impressed by her unique career. “I perform a valuable service, sir.”
“What on earth are you playing at? Surely you do not imagine yourself to be some sort of female Bow Street Runner.”
“Not at all. I make the sort of extremely delicate inquiries that no Runner could possibly conduct. And I am proud to say that I have been personally responsible for saving several ladies from forming disastrous connections with men who would have ruined their finances.”
“Bloody hell. I begin to see why you might require the services of a bodyguard, Miss Arkendale. You must have acquired any number of enemies in your time.”
“Nonsense. I conduct my business affairs with complete confidentiality. My clients are cautioned to discuss my services only with other ladies who might be in need of them.”
“This is astounding, Miss Arkendale. How the devil do you proceed with your work?”
“In addition to dispatching my man-of-affairs to collect certain types of information, I also have the assistance of my sister and my housekeeper.”
Baxter gazed at her, bemused. “Your housekeeper?”
“Mrs. Witty is very helpful when it comes to making inquiries among servants and staff. Such people often know more about their employers than anyone else. It has all worked very well until now.” Charlotte got to her feet and went to stand at the window. She contemplated the small garden. “But something dreadful has happened.”
“Something that makes you think that you need a bodyguard as well as a new man-of-affairs?” Baxter asked bluntly.
“Yes. Until recently, my clients have all been women of a certain station in life. Respectable but not wealthy. Governesses, spinsters, and widows from the gentry. But two months ago, I acquired a new client, one who moved in Polite Circles. I was extremely excited because it meant that I might be able to extend my business to a wealthier clientele.”
“Bloody hell,” Baxter said very softly.
She pretended not to have heard him. There was no turning back now. She had already said too much. She must press on and hope for the best. “Her name was Mrs. Drusilla Heskett. I conducted the inquiries she requested and gave her my report. She paid me and I assumed that was the end of the matter. I hoped she would recommend me to some of her friends.”
“What happened?”
“Last week she was found murdered in her own bedchamber. Shot dead by a housebreaker, the authorities said. All of her servants had been dismissed for the evening. I have some cause to believe that the person who killed her was one of the men whom I had investigated on her behalf.”
“Good God.”
She turned to face him. “I must learn the truth, sir.”
“Why? What business is it of yours?”
“Don’t you see? If the man who murdered her was one of those whom I had investigated and perhaps recommended as honest and sincere, then, in a sense, I bear part of the responsibility for her murder. I must determine the truth of the situation.”
“Just what is it that makes you think the killer was one of her suitors?” Baxter asked swiftly.
