Frodo's primary reason for going to the local tavern was to find out if anyone remembered seeing Valumus Lowfoot on the evening of June 14th or thereabouts, but he also hoped that Florisel Pumble-Took would be there.
He found the place easily, for it sat at the crossroads between two of the wider lanes. It was too early for an ale, but the tavern-keeper was agreeable to answering his questions. Yes, he knew Mr. Lowfoot well--that was to say, Mr. Lowfoot didn't come in for a drink very often, but he would have a flask of his filled from the kegs. Everybody knew Mr. Lowfoot preferred to do his drinking alone instead of in company. No, Mr. Lowfoot wasn't here any night in June so far as he could recall, but he'd ask his missus and the barmaid to be sure. Mr. Pumble-Took was in, and had just finished his breakfast. Would the young gent like to see him?
Yes, Frodo said he would. The tavern-keeper retreated from the public area of his house, and returned a moment later to say that Mr. Pumble-Took would be right out.
Florisel emerged shortly. "What a surprise to see you here at this hour of the morning, Mr. Baggins! Is it more inquiries?"
"I'm afraid so. I wanted a private word with you," Frodo explained. "I thought you would prefer to discuss certain matters here, rather than at the Hall." Florisel only looked puzzled, and Frodo saw that he must make the 'certain matters' more clear. The tavern-keeper was still in the public-room, wiping down the bar even though it was perfectly clean. Frodo took Florisel by the arm to lead him to the far end of the room and spoke in a lowered tone. "It's about your secret, Mr. Pumble-Took. The one you were so anxious last night that I not pry out. About Lady Iris."
"But I told you about us yesterday," Florisel protested. "There's nothing more to tell."
"There is," said Frodo. "You lied to me yesterday--I understand why, but this isn't the time for such gentlemanly discretion. I saw you, as you left the Thain's Hall last night. My friend Sam and I were on the hillside above the garden gate. Or was I mistaken? Was it some other lady, not Iris, who kissed you in farewell? The flirtatious Persifilla? Or perhaps Aunt Di?"
"No," Florisel admitted after a long and silent struggle. "It was Iris."
"Will you tell me the truth now?"
They sat down at the table nearest the door, farthest from the ears of the tavern-keeper.
"There is nothing more to tell," Florisel insisted. "It isn't as you think. I am not her lover, except that I do love her dearly. I have since the first time I saw her as a girl not yet thirty. She was the loveliest girl in the Cleeve, if not the entire Shire. You've never seen such a pretty maid in your life. Can I confide in you, Mr. Baggins? What I tell you mustn't reach the ears of the family at the Hall. Iris was a maidservant in those days, in the home of friends of myself and my cousin Rosaldo. She'd taken the work after her father died, and she and her mother needed to support themselves. I saw how she hated it. She was meant for better things and I wanted to give them to her, but I could offer her nothing except my constant devotion. I couldn't think of proving for a wife in my youth, and even now could barely manage to give a lady the genteel comforts of a home. I never spoke to her of love in those days, and when she married Rosaldo, I wished them both well. He wasn't rich either, but he had a home and his job as the Thain's agent, and could do better as a husband for her. I remained a friend to them both. When Rosaldo died, I almost hoped... but then Iris came here and married Brabantius. Well, he's Thain, after all, and could give her so much I could never dream of. I don't blame her for marrying him, and I am still her devoted friend. There's never been anything between us except a few kisses and words of love--words of love on my part, and she is kind enough to hear them occasionally. Iris guessed long ago how I feel about her, but she does not love me."
"Why didn't you tell me this yesterday, instead of that twaddle about her being like a sister to you?" asked Frodo
"A gentleman, even an impoverished one, can't say such things about a married lady," Florisel answered, "let alone a Thain's wife. And since someone has tried to poison poor old Brabantius--well, I'd be an enormous fool to admit to a famous investigator anything that looked like a reason for me to want him out of the way, wouldn't I?" He paused, then asked, "You suspect me, or Iris and me together, of trying to poison Brabantius, don't you?"
"I suspect several people," Frodo answered noncommittally. "It seems that a lot of people near the Thain have some reason or other to speed him to his death."
"But it couldn't have been me! Even if I wanted Brabantius dead so I could marry Iris, I'd be worse than a fool to kill him when he only has a few years left of life. I'm not so impatient. I've loved for Iris for more than thirty years. I've waited through one husband, and she'll be a widow again before too long without me going to the trouble of making her one. And that's if I thought she'd have me. I'm in no position to ask any woman to be my wife, especially not a Thain's widow!"
"But Lady Iris will have enough money to keep you both once Brabantius dies," said Frodo. "She'll get a quarter of his fortune, and the Thain's Hall will be hers for the rest of her life."
"Will it?" Florisel looked interested at this last piece of information. "I didn't know that. Well, be that as it may, Mr. Baggins, I didn't try to murder Thain Brabantius for love of Iris."
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