He turned at her greeting. “How nice to see you both again.” He gestured toward the chairs as if inviting them to sit.
Anger speared through Harriet. How dare he. A glance at her mother showed her eyes narrowing. Clearly, she didn’t appreciate his arrogance either.
Henderson lifted a brow when neither of them responded to his invitation.
“Harriet and I have other matters to attend to. I’m sure you understand.”
“I see.” He walked slowly forward, his gaze holding on each of them in turn.
Harriet held tight to her anger. She much preferred it to fear. Who was he to say anything to them?
“After seeing you yesterday, I keep thinking about Lord Chapman and the unfortunate...accident.”
“Oh?” Her mother waited, saying nothing more.
“Lady Harriet, your stepfather often spoke fondly of you.”
Harriet said nothing, doing her best to keep a polite if disinterested mask in place. She didn’t want to hear what he’d told the reverend.
“I wonder if you could tell me about the day of his death.”
Her mother shook her head, her frustration clear. “To what end?”
“Only to quiet the questions circling my mind.” The man’s smile was enough to give Harriet the chills. “Lord Chapman was a friend, though as I told you before, I was out of the country when he died and unable to pay my respects.”
“There is little to tell,” Harriet said, deciding the sooner they responded, the sooner he’d leave. She didn’t want her mother to bear the brunt of the conversation. “He was found unconscious at the foot of the stairs. The doctor came directly, but there was nothing to be done. He’d struck his head during the fall.”
“What time of day was it?”
“Evening.” Twelve minutes after nine o’clock to be precise. She’d noted the time when her mother had helped her back to bed. But she wouldn’t share anything she didn’t have to.
“Had he been drinking?”
“Reverend, while I appreciate your friendship with my late husband, I’m sure you can understand that we don’t care to revisit that day.” Her mother turned toward the doorway. “Now, unless there’s something else you need, I must ask you to go.”
“Very well.” But the man didn’t move. “It’s just that I find the whole matter concerning.”
“On that, we agree,” Harriet said. She found everything about her stepfather’s actions concerning. She need only look in the mirror to confirm it.
Her remark seemed to appease Henderson, and he strolled toward the door only to pause and look back, studying them. “There’s something odd about a healthy man falling down the stairs.” He shook his head. “I simply can’t let it go.”
Harriet said nothing despite the fear clenching her stomach.
Reverend Henderson’s lips twisted. “I believe a visit with some of his other friends to see if they have the same questions might aid me. Learning more details will surely help to put my mind at ease. Or...”
Harriet’s breath halted at the unpleasant glitter in the man’s eyes, knowing she wouldn’t like what he was about to say.
“If you were to make a donation to my church in his name, it would not only ease my worry but also appease your conscience. A hundred pounds should suffice. Then I wouldn’t have to continue with my inquiries about his...accident. I look forward to hearing from you soon.”
With that, the reverend nodded and strode out the door, leaving Harriet trembling as she stared at her mother’s stricken expression.
This was Harriet’s worst nightmare come to life. She felt trapped, like a bird caught in a net with no possibility of escape. Panic caused her heart to race, and it was all she could do to remember to breathe.
“We don’t have that kind of money,” her mother murmured, her face crumpling. “Whatever will we do?”
~*~
“YOU MAY COUNT ON MEto join in,” Bolton said as he stood to shake Joseph’s hand. “It sounds like an excellent investment opportunity that will also serve the community.”