THE BARONET'S DAUGHTER

CHAPTER TWENTY

                                CHAPTER TWENTY

‘Leverage? Against Mr Granville?’

    Mrs Possimer lowered herself back into her chair. Quipp also sat again.

    ‘I cannot go into details of the dispute, you understand,’ he said. ‘But my employer can be very...helpful to those who help him.’

    Mrs Possimer sniffed. ‘I am not a person who takes bribes, Mr...er...’

    Quipp stood again and bowed. ‘Quipp is the name, ma’am, Sebastian Quipp, but those who know me well call me Jim.’

    ‘Mr Quipp, as I said, I am not...’

    ‘Heaven forefend, Mrs Possimer!’ Quipp said quickly. ‘I would never suggest such a thing in a lady of your station.’

    He sat down again.

    ‘But permit me to observe,’ he continued. ‘That were it not for Mr Granville you would not now be forced into a position below your dignity, and I see that as a crying shame, for a lady of your worth.’

    ‘That was it!’ Mrs Possimer cried, leaning forward eagerly. ‘He did not know my worth.’

    She lifted a hand and patted her hair. That gesture spoke volumes to Quipp. Mrs Possimer had had expectations of Mr Granville, which had come to nought. Therefore, she might be bitter and willing to reveal all.

    ‘He was so charming at the beginning,’ she said, confirming his notion. Her expression turned sour. ‘And he was so beastly at the end.’

    ‘You have been badly done by, Mrs Possimer,’ Quipp said sympathetically. ‘I beg you to unburden yourself in a kindly ear. I am at your disposal.’

    ‘I don’t know where to begin,’ she said uncertainly.

    ‘Begin at the beginning,’ Quipp suggested gently. ‘That is always the best way. For instance, how long were you landlady at that lodging house?’

    ‘Oh, well over ten years,’ she said. ‘It was a thriving place then. Shoreditch is hardly an exclusive area, of course, but I kept a comfortable and clean place with a good table; very popular with commercial gentlemen, it was.’

    ‘And when did its fortunes change?’

    Mrs Possimer’s lip twisted with bitterness. ‘When Mr Granville bought the place from the former owner,’ she said. ‘Gradually things went down hill. He dismissed most of my staff, except the skivvy.’

    ‘How curious!’

    ‘Yes, Mr Quipp, it was,’ she agreed. ‘Mr Granville would not cough up for repairs. I could not keep the place up to scratch on my own. Business fell off until there were no lodgers at all.’

    ‘But you remained loyal,’ Quipp said gently.

    ‘Mr Granville was charming, as I said.’ Her eyes appeared to mist. ‘He seemed to want me to stay so I stayed, doing the best I could.’

    ‘But Sir Edward Wellesley was lodging there at the time of his death according to the broadsheets.’

    ‘Yes.’ Mrs Possimer licked her lips as though unsure she should say more.

    ‘How did that come about?’

    ‘Mr Granville brought him there one day, and said he must lodge. It seemed strange to me at the time for the old gentleman could rarely pay his rent. I complained to Mr Granville, but he told me not to trouble myself.’