“Of mine as well.” Mrs. Leigh-Waters returned the smile, but with a glint in her eye. She looked back and forth between Louisa and Daniel with obvious interest. Daniel was nineteen, it was true, and Louisa years older than he, but such matches had been made. Once Daniel finished university and came into his majority, he would be a very wealthy young man indeed.

Mrs. Leigh-Waters’ eyes were truly gleaming now. Louisa broke in hastily, “What I wondered, if you’ll forgive me asking, is how you decided who to invite to the garden party? I saw people here I hadn’t in ages.”

Mrs. Leigh-Waters blinked. “My guest list was quite large, dear. My garden party is always an important Season gathering. I invite a wide circle, though I keep my list to those I like best.”

In other words, the gathering was large enough to be interesting, but exclusive enough for those invited to feel superior over those who had not been.

“What Louisa means,” Daniel said, “is that she’s surprised the Bishop of Hargate made your list. Louisa hadn’t thought you were particular friends. In fact, Hargate could be a priggish and condescending oik, God rest him.”

Mrs. Leigh-Waters flushed. “You are certainly forthright, Mr. Mackenzie.”

“But truthful. Hargate rose high in his profession very fast. My uncle Hart figured he called in favor after favor and bought his way to the top.”

Hart would know. He’d used similar methods himself on occasion, and he likely knew whose nest Hargate had feathered to become bishop.

“Well, your uncle Hart might not be wrong,” Mrs. Leigh-Waters said. “Hargate did ask my husband for a word in the right ear in exchange for him helping Mr. Leigh-Waters in certain matters. It’s often done, but with Hargate . . .”

“It was obvious and obsequious,” Daniel finished. “Is that why you invited him to the party? To repay what he’d done for your husband?”

“No, no.” Mrs. Leigh-Waters’ flush went deeper. “If you must know, I owed the bishop a bit of money, and he was needling me for it. I invited him at his request, intending to settle the debt here.”

“And did you settle it?” Daniel asked. He softened the abrupt question with a smile, took a sip of tea, and then gestured with his cup. “I mean, did you have the chance before . . . you know.”

“I did, as a matter of fact. I gave him his hundred guineas. Well, most of it.” Mrs. Leigh-Waters leaned toward them, lowering her voice. “Please don’t tell my husband.”

Louisa shook her head. “Never fear about that. Was it a gambling debt?”

“Pardon?” Mrs. Leigh-Waters looked surprised, then her face grew as red as the velvet curtains behind her. “Oh. Yes. Indeed. I had some very bad luck at cards and had to give Hargate a vowel for what I’d lost. I planned to pay him as soon as I could, but he was a bit impatient. For a man of the cloth, I must say, Hargate did not practice much forgiveness.”

In fact, Hargate seemed to excel at all the deadly sins, Louisa thought, pride and avarice being the top contenders. But some gentlemen went into the clergy not because they had a calling or deep faith, but because, if they went the right way about it, they could make a good living and gain power. Hargate had been a power-seeker and hadn’t much tried to hide it.

“I am sorry,” Louisa said. “I know this is difficult for you.”

Daniel gave Mrs. Leigh-Waters a cheerful smile. “At least your slate is clean. You were able to pay your debt, and all was finished.”

“Not exactly.” Mrs. Leigh-Waters put her hand over Louisa’s, her eyes welling with tears. “Dearest Louisa, I must beg your forgiveness. I couldn’t pay Hargate the entire amount. My pin money for the month was gone, and I could not ask my husband for more without telling him why. I didn’t want Mr. Leigh-Waters to know. He doesn’t approve of gambling.”

This was the first Louisa had heard of it. Mr. Leigh-Waters was often seen around card tables at Isabella’s parties, his wife the same. But Louisa smiled encouragingly and let Mrs. Leigh-Waters go on.

“Hargate threatened to go to my husband directly. I begged him not to. I asked what else I could give him, something to keep him happy until I could raise the rest of the money. He said—oh, my dear Louisa, I am so ashamed of myself now.”

Louisa thought she understood. “Did Hargate ask you to arrange for him to speak to me alone?”

“Yes. Oh, my poor darling, I’m so sorry. I knew he meant to propose to you. He often spoke of you as being the perfect bride for him. He wasn’t wrong—you’d have made a very good bishop’s wife.” Tears trickled from the corners of her eyes. “I agreed, I’m afraid. Anything to keep him from going to my husband.”

Mrs. Leigh-Waters’ distress was true but seemed a bit much for a woman who’d owed a debt from a card game. Most people in Mayfair owed each other for losses at whist, faro, hazard, the American game of poker, any sporting matches, or even which side of the street a cat would walk down. Gambling mania was alive and well in the haut ton. Louisa knew men who’d lost pieces of unentailed land, favorite horses, servants, and even houses, to their friends. The bets were squared eventually, often good-naturedly. Wives whose husbands frowned on their gambling did try to be covert, but sympathetic friends often helped them pay. Mrs. Leigh-Waters had lied when she’d said her husband disapproved of gambling, though, but Louisa couldn’t fathom why.

Daniel broke in, his voice quieter. “What did Hargate expect you to do, with respect to Louisa? Was letting him speak to her alone the end of it?”

Mrs. Leigh-Waters shook her head. “He wanted me to encourage her in the match if she proved shy. Talk her into it. Or bribe her, threaten her, whatever it took.”

Louisa’s eyes widened. “You promised him that?”

“I couldn’t help it.” More tears came, Mrs. Leigh-Waters’ large bosom rising. “I was desperate, my dear. And I didn’t see the harm. You told me yourself you’d decided this Season to look for a respectable husband. Hargate would have been a good match for you—would have helped you and your family.”

“At the expense of her happiness,” Daniel said. “If Louisa had accepted Hargate, I would have done anything to persuade her out of it.” He shuddered. “I couldn’t stick having Hargate for an uncle-in-law. Imagine having to be pleasant to him over pudding at Christmas. No, thank you.”

“I would have refused him,” Louisa said. “Hargate did try very hard to persuade me, telling me he’d forgive my family’s debts to him if I married him. My family has paid back most of what my father owed him, but he intended to squeeze me for the rest of it. Horrid man.”

Mrs. Leigh-Waters looked even more distressed. “Oh, Louisa, you mustn’t . . .”

“Speak ill of the dead?” Daniel asked, before Louisa could answer. “It’s not the done thing, no, but death doesn’t change what a person was in life. Hargate wasn’t above a bit of blackmail to get what he wanted. Key to most of his successes, I’d wager. He even tried to blackmail me once.”

Mrs. Leigh-Waters wiped her eyes. “He did? What about? I mean . . . Oh, I beg your pardon, Mr. Mackenzie. I don’t mean to pry.”

Daniel shrugged. “Youthful indiscretions. I’ve had so many of those I had to tax Hargate a bit before I pinned down exactly which youthful indiscretion he was threatening to tell my father about. I told Hargate to tell him and be damned. Which he did. My dad came down on me hard, but I confessed my sins, Dad and I argued, he forgave me, we had a whiskey, and all was well.” Daniel’s relationship with his father in a nutshell.

“Rather mean of Hargate,” Louisa said indignantly. “Did he ask you for money to keep quiet?”

“That and a word with Uncle Hart to hurry Hargate’s chances of getting into the House of Lords. Only room for so many bishops’ bums on the seats there. Someone has to die before another can come in the front door. Hargate wanted to be moved to the top of the list. I told him he was optimistic about Hart opening a way for him. Hart’s harder to blackmail than anyone I know. Trust me. I’ve tried. My ears still hurt from the drubbing he gave me.” Daniel rubbed the side of his head. “Of course, I was only ten at the time and not practiced.”

Daniel’s casual tone, dismissing blackmail as merely a nuisance, was having good effect on Mrs. Leigh-Waters. Her crying quieted, and she started to relax.

“Was he blackmailing you too?” Daniel asked her. “I’m sorry if he was.”

Mrs. Leigh-Waters nodded. “Please, please don’t tell my husband.”

“No.” Louisa squeezed her hand. “We understand.”

Mrs. Leigh-Waters looked at them watching her, then she jumped. “But if you are thinking I poisoned Hargate to keep him quiet, I did not. I paid him, as I said, and set up the appointment for him to meet you. I knew he might try for more money in future, but I’d cross that bridge when I came to it.”

Louisa wondered very much what knowledge Hargate had possessed that so shamed Mrs. Leigh-Waters, but she wouldn’t ask. The poor lady had suffered enough without having to worry that someone else knew her secret. Hargate was gone now, and Mrs. Leigh-Waters was safe from him.

“Never fear,” Louisa said. “I don’t see how you could have killed him, anyway, if the poison was in the teacup. How could you know which cup he’d choose? Or which I’d choose to give him? It was me who handed him the cup. I am, unfortunately, the most likely suspect.”

Louisa deflated. She’d come here hoping to learn much more. She’d discovered from their conversation that Mrs. Leigh-Waters did indeed have a motive for killing Hargate, but she had difficulty picturing Mrs. Leigh-Waters thinking of so intricate a way to administer the poison. Besides, would the lady risk killing the man in her own garden? In front of a large party of people?