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“I didn’t. I heard through Lansing, who knows a footman of Lady Susan Ritchson’s household, that she and Penelope were often at the carriage races in St. James’s Park. So, that is where I went.”

The races would have been poorly lit and crowded. A good spot for someone to go unseen.

“You spoke to Miss Harwood there?” Hugh asked.

“I did, and she was happy to see me. It was where I proposed.”

“Was she happy? She had been courting Tobias Sinclair while you were away,” he replied, intentionally trying to provoke the young man.

Calvin’s jaw flexed as he clenched his molars. “She didn’t love him. Penelope told me the truth, right away, and begged for my forgiveness. Which I gave her. I understood all too well how much pressure she’d felt to make a good match. Her brother was desperate for it.”

“Did she know of your financial troubles?” Hugh asked. Calvin nodded.

“But she’d changed her mind about Tobias even before realizing I’d come home. When I saw her at the races that night, we agreed that our less-than-fortunate circumstances would not keep us apart,” he answered, his attention shifting toward his father.

Victor made a disgusted sound in the back of his throat. “How foolish could you possibly be? You knew the state of our affairs. The young woman had no dowry. Nothing at all to offer.”

Calvin glared at his father. “Yes, I am aware. Why do you think I never told you about her?”

It appeared Victor had at least been telling the truth when he said he hadn’t known about his son’s secret courtship.

“Why was Lansing looking for her later that night?” Thornton asked; the valet’s arrival at the Cheevers’s soiree had not yet been explained.

“After I left Penelope at the races, I began to worry that she would tell Lady Susan our plans. I hadn’t specifically asked her not to, and I didn’t want it known yet that I was in London. I just needed one more moment with her to make that clear.” He shrugged. “That is all.”

“You were being reckless,” Victor said, disappointment lifting his upper lip into a sneer.

“Yes, Father, perhaps I was. But I don’t expect you to understand how desperately I needed to see her.”

“Was that the only time, or were there others?” Hugh asked.

“We met a few times, and we were careful not to be seen,” he replied, but then a touch of color lit his cheeks. Hugh suspected the young man was thinking of what the two of them had been doing together during those clandestine meetings.

“We… Well, I am a gentleman. We decided we’d go to the border to elope. I am telling the truth, Viscount Neatham, when I say I could never have killed her. I loved her.”

His voice broke over those last words. There wasn’t a trace of artifice in his demeanor. Hugh believed him.

“Mr. Messinger, when did you learn about Miss Harwood?” he asked.

The MP, still disgruntled, answered, “The night she was left in my carriage house. Lansing recognized her. Calvin confirmed it was she.”

“And yet you said you had no idea who she was,” Thornton put in.

“I did not exactly lie,” Victor snapped. “I had never seen her before that night. I did not recognize her. And I did not know about the courtship.”

“Don’t be pedantic. I am in no mood for it,” Hugh retorted. His tone brooked no argument, and Victor sealed his lips tightly.

“Calvin, you were home when Miss Harwood’s body was delivered to your carriage house,” Hugh continued. “Did you see anything? Anyone in the mews lane?”

He was already shaking his head before the question was completed. “I wish I had, but my room doesn’t look out over the mews lane. I didn’t know anything until…” He pressed the heel of his hand to one watering eye, then the next. “Until I saw her in the carriage house. Who would have done this? Hurt her like that?”

It would have been someone who did not wish for Penelope and Calvin to wed. Victor Messinger for one, but Basil had confirmed he’d been at his club that evening.

Tobias would not have wanted to lose Penelope’s affections. If she had rejected him in favor of Calvin, he may have lashed out, especially in his drunken state. His motive and lack of an alibi during the presumed hour of her murder continued to implicate him.

And then there was Morris Harwood, who needed his sister to marry well. Calvin Messinger, while not destitute, was impoverished. Her brother, however, stood nothing to gain from her death.

Besides, he had an alibi for that night.