Page 43 of One Wicked Secret
“Magnus,” he offered.
“Yes. One must question my father’s need for secrecy. He devised methods to hide the information instead of confiding in Magnus. What if we hadn’t pieced the clues together?”
He had spent three days wrestling with the same question. It felt as if her father had left everything to chance. Then again, he hadn’t known one of his corrupt associates would murder Mr Carver.
“It’s why we must return to town,” Rutland said. “With our connections, we should find answers within the week. However, proving which one of these men murdered Carver won’t be an easy task.”
Rothley sniggered. “You’d be surprised what a man will tell you when you confront him in a dark alley. The glint of a blade in the blackness would make any of those fops wet their trousers.”
No one doubted Rothley’s ability to appear terrifying. Still, Daniel had the uneasy sense they were missing crucial parts of the story.
Elsa reached for one of the closed books stacked on the desk. “So there was nothing of interest in these volumes?”
“Nothing but a few underscored words and random dots,”he replied. They had scoured every page until their eyes ached.
“We’ll take them with us. It will give Clara and me something to do on the long journey.”
“All you need to do on the journey is rest,” he said, wondering if insisting she visit Carver’s cottage was wise. Emotional distress might hinder her recovery. And what if the shooter had followed her to Thorncroft?
Was she the intended target?
Or was the blackguard a poor shot?
“What about questioning the servants?” Elsa said. “Two maids live in Marshfield. They might know something.”
“Rothley went to Marshfield. Rutland visited Bath and Trowbridge. Those questioned found Mr Carver friendly and charming. None suspected he had any involvement in your father’s poor business decisions. I’ve asked the servants to return to work. Mrs McGregor will supervise both houses until usual order is restored.”
Elsa frowned. “What about Mrs Melville? Can she not return to manage Edenberry?”
“She’s visiting her sister in London. I have the address. Maybe we’ll call on her tomorrow if you feel able.”
Elsa nodded and pursed her lips, a trace of hesitation in her eyes. “Then, other than visiting The Grange and questioning the staff, there’s only one thing left to do.”
“Examine the cottage,” he said, dread coursing through his veins like poison. What if she remembered something so terrifying she would never sleep peacefully again?
“We should go now.” She gripped the desk and stood, her body tense. “Before courage abandons me.”
Rothley straightened. “I’ll accompany you to the woods,but I’ll leave once we’ve confirmed the thugs aren’t camped in Carver’s cottage.”
Daniel heard Elsa’s stomach growl, a quiet reminder she hadn’t eaten in days. He crossed the room and took a platter of cold meat and bread from the trestle table. “We’ll visit the cottage once you’ve broken your fast.”
She accepted the food without protest, eating a piece of cheese, a slice of apple, and a cut of ham. Only then did she retrieve her cloak.
They walked through the sunlit garden in comfortable silence. Poppies and cornflowers lined the banks of the narrow footpath that meandered through the field, leading to the dense canopy of trees just ahead.
Her steps faltered at the edge of the woods. She stared at the looming branches like she would rather leave the truth buried beneath the boughs.
“Mind your step,” he said, holding her right hand and drawing her from the light into the dense shadow of trees.
Rothley marched ahead, his steps soft on the mossy ground. Periodically, he stopped to listen, alerted by the rustle of leaves or the creak of a swaying tree, before striding towards Edenberry.
“This is where I fell,” Elsa said after they had been walking for twenty minutes. She stopped at a spot where the roots of an old oak tree sprawled across the path like gnarled fingers. “I might have slipped on damp moss before catching my toe.”
There was nothing to see, no clue to explain why Carver was there, which led to only one conclusion. “Someone followed you. Whether it was Carver remains to be seen.”
“If they did, they never made a sound.”
Who was it?
