The Valentine Legacy by Catherine Coulter Page A

shortly after they were married. She was also depressed, pale, and on the verge of tears the whole time. She told me that he began avoiding her almost immediately after their marriage, that he’d even called her Ursula several times during moments of, er, affection.”
    James turned to stare at Dancy Hoolahan. He released Gordon Dickens, absently brushed his coat front, and gently shoved him back down into his chair. “I told Alice not to marry him,” James said. “He married Alice Stoddert out of spite after Ursula married Giff, hoping to make her jealous I suppose, only it didn’t. He wouldn’t believe she didn’t want him, that she preferred Giff Poppleton. And Alice didn’t believe me either.” He looked Gordon Dickens straight in the face. “You will contrive to keep all this behind your teeth, Gordon. All of it, do you understand? And you as well, Dancy, and yes, I well understand why you dug it up and spit it out when you did. Well, I’m under control now and I won’t throttle Gordon, at least in the next fiveminutes. Remember—all of you—that none of this has anything to do with Belmonde’s murder.”
    Gordon Dickens fiddled with his cravat. “I must do my duty. However, I agree with you, James, that none of this seems to have any bearing on Belmonde’s unfortunate death.”
    Jessie said, “Who do you think killed Mr. Belmonde, James?”
    â€œI haven’t the foggiest idea. As you said, Jessie, he wasn’t a particularly nice man. Listen, Gordon, Allen Belmonde had two business partners. There was probably a good deal of strife among the three of them. Have you looked into that?”
    â€œOh, yes. They all hated one another. They accused one another of villainy, of embezzlement, of cheating.” Gordon Dickens rose, looking gloomy. “This is a proper mess. I was hoping that one of you would be guilty. It would have made things so much simpler.”
    â€œWhy, thank you, Gordon,” Dancy Hoolahan said.
    â€œThere’s the horse racing,” Oslow said. “Mr. Belmonde made bets at the racetracks, big ones, I heard, and he didn’t always pay up when he lost. There’re also rumors that he was responsible for poisoning Rainbow—a four-year-old thoroughbred whose sire was Bellerton and whose dam was the Medley mare—at last year’s Baltimore Plate. The horse he backed won, so he also won, a lot of money. All unproved of course.”
    â€œEverything is unproved,” Gordon Dickens said, and sighed. “The world is unproved.” He sighed again as he rose. He straightened his waistcoat. It was loose. He’d lost weight. It felt good. He knew it was from all the unaccustomed activity he was getting at night and in the early mornings. “Damn Belmonde’s eyes,” he said, looking at everyone with gloomy irritation. “Why couldn’t he have just ridden off that cliff over at Miller’s Jump? That way Icould have called it an accident, and that would have been the end of it.”
    Â 
    Mrs. Wilhelmina Wyndham had a firm hold on her son’s arm. “Whoever is visiting poor Alice? You will get rid of who it is, James. We are here now and thus the only ones who should be offering sympathy to the poor girl. Some folks have the manners of rodents.”
    James had ridden to the Belmonde town house on St. Paul Street, to offer Alice whatever support he could. And here was his mother, just emerging from the landau he’d bought for her three years before. “Ah, my dearest boy,” she’d said, allowed him to assist her to the ground, and took hold of his arm.
    â€œDid you tell Alice you were coming to visit her?”
    â€œCertainly not, but that doesn’t matter. Go see to it, James.”
    He just smiled down at his mother, knowing nothing short of a hurricane could ever dissuade her from anything. Maybe not even a hurricane.
    Her visitors