She nodded and moved away.

One man entered with a bandaged head and bruised cheek. “Miss Montgomery, my name is Hubert Earnshaw, and I was your father’s accountant. I am so sorry for your loss. Garfield Montgomery was a great man, and he was my friend.”

“Thank you. I’ve seen you with my father. Were you at the mill when it …”

“Yes, miss. I had an appointment with him that day. The blast nearly knocked me into the river. I was fortunate to land on the walkway over the waterwheel instead of being blown into the water.” He touched his bandage. “I wish I had not been late for our meeting. Perhaps if someone else had been there, the killer would have stayed his hand. It will be my lifelong regret.”

So the fact of murder was indeed out.

Agatha nodded, but the viscount scowled, patting Agatha’s hand in the crook of his elbow. Perhaps he thought it bad form for the accountant to bring up the murder at such a time.

Juliette tried to be observant without appearing so, as Uncle Bertie had taught her. Most of the guests were business associates of Mr. Montgomery. There were a few women in attendance, and snippets of their conversations caught her ears.

“I heard the manager is near death at St. Bart’s. Head injury. Poor chap. He’d probably be better off to have died in the blast than to linger like he is.”

“Wonder what she will do now? Sell everything? She’d be sitting on a tidy sum. I wouldn’t mind buying the distillery or the woolen mill. And didn’t he invest in a copper mine down near Truro?”

“I think the gristmill can be rebuilt. The stone walls are intact. If she doesn’t wish to rebuild, she can sell the property. Someone will buy it. Especially if the wheel and mechanisms are still functional. Hammersmith is the perfect site for a gristmill.”

“What about his artwork? If the daughter decides to sell it all, the prices will go down quickly. Too much available all at once.”

Juliette circulated, finally coming to stand beside Daniel, who had secured himself a place near the windows.

“It seems everyone here knows what Agatha should do. They all have opinions, but none of them seem to agree.”

“Everyone is an expert at someone else’s business. What do you make of Mrs. Fairchild?” Daniel put his coffee cup on a passing tray.

“She’s beautiful. I had no idea Mr. Montgomery was interested in any woman. Nor did Agatha. How awful for her to learn he was keeping such a secret from his own daughter.”