Page 33 of Garden of Lies

“Not all of the facts are wrong. But one thing is clear—Torrence hates me for having survived Fever Island,” Slater exhaled heavily. “I have no idea why, but there is no escaping that conclusion.”

“Oh, no,” Ursula said quickly. “That wasn’t hate that I detected in him or in his wife, either.”

“What, then?”

“Fear.”

“That makes no sense.”

“It does if he thinks you blame him for what happened on Fever Island. I realize it is none of my business but would you care to tell me exactly what did occur?”

“Considering that the story of our encounter with Lord and Lady Torrence will no doubt be the chief topic of conversation at breakfast all over London tomorrow morning, you have a right to some answers.”

FOURTEEN

Mrs. Kern, what a pleasure it is to welcome you again.” Webster’s scar crinkled the side of his face when he beamed at Ursula. “Mrs. Webster will be delighted, as well. I shall inform her immediately.”

“Thank you, Webster,” Ursula said, touched by the warm greeting.

Slater looked hard at Webster. “It’s not as if Mrs. Kern has just returned from a voyage around the world. She was here only a couple days ago, if you will recall.”

“Yes, of course, sir,” Webster said. “It’s just that the staff had been afraid that she would not be returning soon. This is a delightful surprise.”

Hurried footsteps sounded in the hall. Mrs. Webster came onstage.

“Mrs. Kern, you’re back,” she exclaimed as though she was the heroine in a play who had just discovered that a long-lost relation was alive after all. “How wonderful to see you again.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Webster,” Ursula said. She smiled. “I’m afraid I won’t be staying long—”

She stopped abruptly because Slater’s powerful hand closed around her elbow. He hauled her off in the direction of the library.

“Mrs. Kern and I have work to do,” he announced over his shoulder. “Kindly see that we are not disturbed.”

Mrs. Webster gave him a steely look. “You’ll be wanting a tea tray.”

Slater groaned. “Fine. Bring us a tea tray, make sure there is coffee on it, and then see to it that we have some privacy.”

Mrs. Webster relaxed into an approving smile. “Of course, sir. I’ll just be a moment.”

Slater drew Ursula down the hall and into the library. He closed the door and turned around.

“The Websters have missed you,” he said.

“They are a very nice couple.” Ursula tucked the veil up onto the brim of her rakish little hat. “And somewhat unusual.”

“My mother offered to hire my staff two months ago because I had absolutely no idea how to go about the process, nor did I want to be bothered with learning how to do it properly.”

“Of course you didn’t,” Ursula said. “I’m quite certain that hiring the household staff is not something that a gentleman is taught. That is the work of the lady of the house.”

His expression became unusually grim, even for him, she thought. He walked behind his desk chair and gripped the back with both hands.

“There are times when living in this household with a staff composed of failed actors and other assorted theater people is like living in the middle of a melodrama,” he said. “The actors are especially unreliable. They quit on the spot if they get a hint of a bit part in a play. Then, when the play folds after two nights, they’re back, asking for their posts. But it is not as if I’ve got much choice in the matter. I can hardly toss them onto the street.”

“Why not?” Ursula asked calmly.

The question clearly stopped him for a moment.

“Well, among other things, it would be very difficult to find more traditional, more professional replacements,” he said finally. He exhaled slowly. “Very few well-trained people in service would tolerate what the press and the gossips are pleased to call my eccentricities.”

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