Page 23 of A Dangerous Vision

Gideon already had the club’s name and location in his notes. “An argument between the two was overheard⁠—”

“By whom?” Lance Pennington edged forward on the settee.

Gideon would not give the servants’ names to Pennington. He never wished to endanger a servant’s job because they were forthright when questioned.

“Does it surprise you an argument was overheard, Mr. Pennington?”

Lance Pennington leaned back on the settee again, hands clenched. “They had been friends for many years, Inspector. Friends bicker at times, do they not?”

“He often visited here in the evenings,” Miss Faraday added in her soft voice. “They would smoke cigars and drink, and those meetings could become…boisterous, but they never sounded like arguments.”

“You overheard raised voices?”

“Occasionally. Over a joke or some bit of sarcasm. I did hear them speak sharply to each other, but it seemed a friendly sort of rivalry.”

“A rivalry?”

“Perhaps that is the wrong word. There was banter between them at times. They were both very intelligent men and well versed in matters of law and politics. They spoke about politics often, and they did not always agree.”

With a pointed look at Lance Pennington, Gideon asked, “Do you know of any other club where you brother was a member?”

The young man’s brow arched, but he immediately cast his gaze downward toward the carpet. When he looked up again, he’d smoothed his features into a seemingly forced poise. “I’m not aware of his membership at any other club, Inspector.”

Gideon bent his head to dash off a few notes and was aware that the tension in the room had grown over the matter of Miss Faraday’s suitor and now the question of this elusive second club. His gut told him to dig in those spots, but there was one more delicate matter he needed to broach.

“The constable who spoke to Mrs. Coyle was informed that Mr. Pennington was two and forty. Is that correct?”

Lance Pennington nodded.

“And I take it he never married.”

“No,” he said, shifting on the settee. He’d narrowed his eyes as if wary.

“Never betrothed?” Gideon pressed, hoping one of them would volunteer some of the details the valet had confided about a previous betrothal.

Instead, they each glanced at each other. Miss Faraday then fixed her gaze on her clasped hands once more, and Mr. Pennington suddenly found the fire grate fascinating.

“Was he betrothed or courting someone?” The answer seemed obvious, based on their reactions, but the utter silence took him by surprise. “I take it there was someone. Could one of you explain?”

“My brother was previously engaged to Miss Aurora Beecham, Inspector. They were engaged for half a year, but Percival broke the engagement two months ago.” Pennington drew in a breath and continued. “It was not a cordial parting of ways.”

“Can you explain further?”

The man’s brother lifted his shoulders in a shrug. “Well, her father was outraged and eager to litigate the matter, and I suspect Miss Beecham was deeply hurt.”

“I thought they seemed quite well matched,” Miss Faraday put in. “They seemed to be in love.”

Pennington glanced at his niece. “Clearly, we were mistaken. And my brother was faced with a breach-of-promise case, which he has been fighting.” Frowning, he added, “What I mean to say is that he was determined to come to some arrangement with her father to keep the matter out of court. The scandal of it was something he wished to avoid.”

“Do you know the cause of your brother’s decision to break the engagement?” Gideon wondered if women he’d met at an illicit gentlemen’s club could truly make a man like Percival Pennington risk such scandal. Especially after devoting months to courting a respectable young woman.

The barrister’s brother reached up and wrapped a hand around the back of his neck, apparently loath to say more. Gideon waited because there was clearly more to the story. Often, those being questioned felt compelled to end the silence.

“I believe,” the younger Pennington finally said, “though I do not know the details, that there was a complication on Percival's part. An entanglement.”

Gideon guessed the meaning of Pennington’s emphasis on the word. “Another woman?”

“Yes.”