Page 56 of Beyond the Grave
Edgecombe let me go and held up his hand in surrender. His gaze flicked from Lincoln to me then he chuckled into his glass again. Discovering it empty, he went to pick up the decanter near the wheel of his chair, but Yardly was faster than he looked. He got to it first.
"I'll fetch Dawkins to take you back inside, sir." Yardly held out his hand for us to walk ahead of him into the house.
I went first, followed by Lincoln and the butler who shut the door on the sorry figure of Mr. Edgecombe cradling the glass to his chest.
"Thank you, Mr. Yardly," I said in my sweetest voice. "We'll trouble you no further." I hurried ahead of them to the front door, eager to get far away from Emberly Park and its occupants.
Chapter 10
Yardly didn't offerus the use of one of the Harcourt carriages to take us back to town, and Lincoln was not too pleased about it.
"My assistant has only recently recovered from a foot injury," he said. "We require a ride back to the village."
"It's quite all right, sir," I said before Yardly could respond. The poor man looked as if he didn't know what to say anyway. Manners dictated that he should offer us the use of his master's coach and driver, but he didn't seem to trust us, particularly after catching me plying Edgecombe with drink. "I can walk, and the day is lovely. Thank you again for your warm hospitality, Mr. Yardly. Lord Harcourt will hear of it."
As Lincoln and I walked along the drive, I told him everything Edgecombe had told me. I'd finished by the time we were out of sight of the house.
"If we head that way, we'll reach the family graveyard," I said, nodding to our right.
"You think we'll learn more there?"
"I don't know, but we should take a look." I set off across the grass, and he soon fell into step beside me.
"Your foot?"
"Is perfectly fine, thank you. What did you and Yardly talk about while I was gone?"
"Nothing."
"You sat in silence the entire time?"
"It was the longest fifteen minutes of my life. Next time, I'm not going through the front door and making idle chatter with servants."
"Why do so this time?"
"I didn't want to leave you on your own."
I rolled my eyes. "I would have been perfectly all right. In fact, separating works well, as we proved in the hospital. I question people while you sneak about."
"You had Seth with you then. You would have been alone here."
"Yardly doesn't look dangerous. I think I could have managed him on my own."
We fell into silence, and I hoped he was considering my suggestion. The more I thought about it, the more I liked the idea. By separating, we could attack on two fronts, each of us doing what we did best.
"Did Edgecombe say whether he or anyone else told the late Lord Harcourt about the baby?" So much for him considering my suggestion.
"I never got a chance to ask. It's possible, I suppose. Or perhaps he saw the mausoleum too and realized that fetuses aren't given proper burials in such grand style."
"It's difficult to miss."
The square building with classical columns marking the entrance reminded me of a miniature version of the British Museum. It occupied one corner of the small graveyard and commanded a spectacular outlook toward the house. I wondered if Mr. Edgecombe was watching us from his window or the garden terrace. I resisted the urge to wave.
"There are signs of a scuffle." Lincoln pointed to some divots in the grass near the base of the mausoleum step.
"They could have been made by anything, at any time."
He crouched and inspected a dark stain on the stone. "Blood."
