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“That is correct.” He quizzed Leo with a look, as if surprised by her observation. “This is the Hart family residence. Has been for three generations. My mistress grew up here and inherited the holdings after her mother passed. The staff here are devoted to Miss Hart. Or rather, Mrs. Lawlor.”

It was an unusual thing for a man to marry and move into his new wife’s home. It made Jasper wonder what he had brought to the marriage, if anything.

“Her inheritance was substantial, I presume,” Leo said.

“Quite.” The raised brow that accompanied Hastings’s answer seemed to impart that substantial might be putting it mildly.

“The deliverymen from Tate’s indicated to us that Mr. Lawlor has quit the house entirely,” Jasper said, getting back to what had happened that morning. “Is that true?”

The butler’s countenance grew even more grim as he took a long step farther away from the door. “I believe so, Inspector.” He kept his voice low. “It seems the last any of the staff recall seeing him was after Mr. Gray pronounced Mrs. Lawlor deceased. Mr. Lawlor gave instructions for the body to be taken to Tate’s, and then he shut himself into his bedchamber. We thought it best not to disturb him.”

“What time was that?” Jasper asked.

“Around eight thirty this morning.”

“And when did you notice he was gone?” Leo asked.

“Noon,” Hastings answered. “He did not emerge from his room when the men from Tate’s arrived. I presumed he could not bear to see her taken away. But then, as noon approached, I grew concerned. So, I knocked and called through the door. There was no answer. I looked inside and found the room in a state of disarray. Bureau drawers pulled open, articles of clothing strewn on the bed. Several of his belongings were missing from his wardrobe. His valet confirmed a small valise he used for traveling was also gone.” The butler’s gray brows tensed. “I can only think that he has lost his mind from grief.”

Jasper wasn’t convinced grief was the reason for Mr. Lawlor’s disappearance, and by the dubious expression on Leo’s face, she wasn’t, either.

“Is there a safe on the premises?” Jasper asked.

Hastings blinked and flinched, as if struck off guard by the question. “I… Why, yes, of course, in the study.”

Leo asked, “And has it been checked since Mr. Lawlor left?” After a moment of staring at her as though she’d spoken in a foreign language, the butler sidestepped them and started up the stairs with a punch in his pace.

Jasper and Leo followed, and when the three of them entered the study, the suspicion that had been brewing in Jasper’s gut was verified. The thick door of the floor safe standing behind the study desk was not shut properly. Hastings crouched to open it, and all that met them were some scattered papers on the shelves.

If money had been kept within the safe, it was now gone. The man had left in such a rush that he had not even bothered to close the safe door fully.

The butler stood back, his initial shock hardening over into understanding. He turned to Jasper and, with all the poise of a well-trained butler asked, “How may I be of service to you, Inspector?”

“You can tell me everything you know about Mr. Lawlor,” he answered. “Let’s start at the beginning.”

Chapter Three

Augusta Lawlor’s dining room was overpoweringly pink. It had never been a color Leo gravitated toward, and as she stood at the head of the table, waiting for the next maid to be shown in, the shades of salmon, mauve, and blushing rose began to creep in and prickle under her skin.

So far during her interviews with the staff, Leo had learned that at thirty-eight years of age, Miss Augusta Hart had long since given up any hope that she might one day marry, least of all for love. Augusta’s grandfather had accrued a fortune in shipping earlier in the century, and her father had continued to grow the family business and legacy. When her father died several years ago, Augusta solely inherited. She sold the business—as an only child and a spinster, she did not expect to continue the family line—increasing her wealth to an even greater degree.

In her youth, and into her spinsterhood, Augusta received offers of marriage from unscrupulous gentlemen, but she had turned them all away. Her mother, Mrs. Florence Hart, who had passed two years ago, had even gone to such lengths with one suspicious suitor as to have him investigated by a private inquiry agent. In the end, Augusta had refused the fortune hunter and resigned herself to remaining unmarried.

And so, she had redecorated the home where she’d grown up in her own feminine tastes. Varying shades of pink and rose everywhere.

When, six months ago, Augusta met Sebastian Lawlor at an art exhibit at the Royal Academy, the two struck up an easy friendship. It quickly developed into a romance, and to the staff’s astonishment, their mistress accepted Sebastian’s proposal of marriage just one month later. They married swiftly and spent the next month in Paris on a honeymoon trip. Kitty, the maid who traveled with the new Mrs. Lawlor, said her mistress started experiencing severe stomach complaints while in Paris. Augusta blamed the rich French cuisine and started to reduce her meals to clear broths and vegetables, but it didn’t help. Cutting their honeymoon short, the newlyweds returned to London, but Augusta’s health continued to worsen.

Leo, who had offered to interview the maids and housekeeper while Jasper spoke to the butler and footmen, had spoken at length with Kitty.

“Couldn’t keep a morsel down,” the maid had said during that first interview. “I’ve been taking in her gowns every week. Must’ve gone from near eighteen stone to fourteen in a flash.”

It was a large amount of weight to lose in so short a time span.

“Has she had any other symptoms of illness?” Leo asked.

“She’s grown so weak, she can’t hardly hold a pen. Says her hands keep going numb and tingly,” Kitty replied. “Her feet too.”

That was certainly curious, and it bolstered a hunch Leo was starting to develop.