Page 73 of The Rebellious Lady and the Phantom Lord
“Just remember when you retire yourself, make sure you put out your hound.”
He hobbled through the doorway, his gout-ridden foot, as ever, giving him pain; but his shoulders were squared, and he appeared to have recovered from his momentary spasm. Phaedra watched anxiously from the doorway until she saw Peter coming to help him up to bed.
Closing the door, she leaned up against it. Quiet descended over the room once more, the silence itself seeming to threaten her. The air felt heavy with all the things she knew Gilly wanted to say, things she didn’t want to hear. She gazed back at him, pleading with her eyes.
Her cousin’s grim expression softened. He closed the distance between them, gathering her into his arms. She buried her face against the worn fabric of his coat while he stroked her hair, murmuring gently to her, as though she were crying. But she felt far beyond tears as she clung to Gilly for comfort-much the way she had when they were children, and one of their reckless escapades had led to a scrape.
He drew her back to the couch, forcing her to sit down, her head resting upon his shoulder. “The old gaffer was right,” he murmured. “Sure and it’s been the very devil of a day.”
“I shall never forget it as long as I live,” Phaedra said. When I looked down the window and saw her lying there-all that blood.”
“Don’t think about it anymore, Fae.” Gilly kneaded the back of her neck. “It’s over. They’ll take her off to be buried in the morning.”
But Gilly knew as well as she that it was not over. There were too many questions, too many suspicions that would not be buried in that grave with Hester.
“I suppose she could have killed herself,” she said. “Such a strange, bitter woman!”
She felt Gilly’s shoulder tense beneath her cheek. “Nay, darlin’. I cannot allow that. You full well know to be thinking such a thing would be but self-delusion.”
“Why would it be?” she asked, pulling away from him. “Why is it so impossible that Hester could have leaped from that window by her own free will?”
The brief moment of comfort and kinship between them had faded. Gilly’s lips tightened as he answered, “Setting aside the question of Hester’s sensitive, delicate nature, there’s another damned good reason why suicide cannot be considered. If someone else besides me had troubled to take a good look at her body, I wouldn’t be the only one raising up doubts.”
“What about Hester’s body?”
“She landed face down, but there was blood smeared in her hair. She had taken the devil of a crack on the back of her head. Madam Pester never went through that window of her own accord.”
Phaedra stood up and took a nervous turn about the room. “Well, she could have hit the side of the house on the way down. There was no sign of any sort of struggle in my garret.”
“Then why didn’t anyone hear her scream? A woman taking a plunge like that would have been bound to cry out. ConsideringMadam Pester’s genteel set of lungs, she should have been heard all the way to Westminister.”
“Not if she had willed herself to be silent.”
“Damn it, Fae!” Gilly caught her shoulders in a bruising grip. “You can’t keep walking about with the wool pulled over your eyes. You know cursed well that woman was murdered, and only one person could likely?—”
“You have no reason to suspect Armande,” she started to cry, then stopped, betrayed by her own words. It was not Gilly who had brought up Armande’s name, but she.
She continued desperately, “It could have been some vagrant who crept inside the Heath, a footpad come to steal.”
“And it might have been the ghost of old Lethe. Phaedra, you’ve got to face the truth this time.”
“You are asking me to believe the man I love could be a murderer. Don’t you understand that is as painful as asking me to believe that you killed Hester?”
Although Gilly continued to frown, his grip upon her slackened, becoming gentle.
“Do you know what Armande did for me?” she asked. “He replaced my books that Ewan destroyed, put them back on my shelves in the garret. Do you think a man capable of such consideration could-could?—”
“Spare a few minutes from the shelving to stuff Hester out the window? Aye, I do.” I would have liked to have done it myself.
“Don’t!” She wrenched away from him. “It is vile of you to make such jests.”
“I’m not jesting! You know what manner of a prying woman Hester was. I won’t even pretend to grieve for her. It is a wonder someone didn’t fling her off the roof a long time ago. My only concern is to make sure you’re not next.”
“It is bad enough for you to imply that Armande killed Hester, but to say that he would ever hurt me?—”
“He’s a man with too many secrets. We both know that. I think he’d destroy anyone who seemed a threat to him.” Gilly heaved an exasperated sigh. “Though the Lord alone knows how Madam Pester ever managed to find out anything about de LeCroix. He might be as innocent as my grandfather for all there is to be found in his room.”
“Then you were there,” Phaedra cried. “You did search, even after I begged you not to.”
