Page 29 of The Hollow of Fear
Dear Livia,
I’m sorry to hear of your ordeal.
Please convey Mrs. Watson’s and my deepest condolences to Lord Ingram, as well as our sympathy for his children.
Charlotte
This was notwhat Livia had hoped for from her sister. She needed a muscular, cavalry-coming-over-the-hills message. She craved for Charlotte to declare,The finest mind of her generation assures you with every solemnity that the culprit will be discovered in the next twenty-four hours. That Lord Ingram will emerge unscathed. And that all will be well, including you yourself, dearest Livia.
A knock at the door startled her, but it was only a servant informing her that the guests were being assembled in the grand drawing room. Would Miss Holmes please go down as soon as possible?
Livia reached the open doors of the grand drawing room as the din of excited curiosity abated to a sober, almost fearful silence.
Lord Ingram stood by the fireplace, his hair windswept, his eyes hollow. “It is my great unhappiness to inform you that Lady Ingram has been found... dead on the property. The police have arrived to begin their investigation.”
Silence. A cacophony of disbelief. Silence again as Lord Ingram raised his hand. “I do not know what happened—this has been a great shock. I do know that local constables will have some questions for you. Tomorrow an inspector from Scotland Yard might ask to speak to you again. Until then, please remain at Stern Hollow.”
Again, a roar of incredulity and dismay.
Lord Ingram waited. In the morning, he’d looked as if he hadn’t slept all night. Now, he appeared as if he’d never known a full-night’s rest in his entire life, his weariness etched into every feature.
When the guests had quieted, he said, “Dinner will be served at the usual hour. I regret to say I will not be able to perform the duties of a host this evening. Forgive me. My staff will see to your needs. Ladies Avery and Somersby will answer your questions as best as they can.”
He walked out of the drawing room, the crowd parting to let him through. Closing the doors, he held onto the door handle for a moment, as if not trusting that he would remain upright were he to let go.
All at once Livia understood that he was afraid, so afraid that he couldn’t let anyone see it, lest everything he feared came true.
Not wanting to be seen by those inside the drawing room, she had taken a few steps back, out of their line of sight. Now she rushed forward and took his hands.
“It’ll be all right, my lord! Charlotte won’t let anything happen to you. She’ll find out the truth.”
He looked as if he was about to say something but changed his mind. “Yes, I’m sure everything will be fine. I hope this has not been too distressing for you, Miss Holmes.”
Livia had no idea what she said next. They spoke for a little longer before he excused himself and headed in the direction of the library. She squared her shoulders, took several deep breaths, and yanked open the doors of the drawing room.
Lord Ingram had not named her to answer questions for the guests, but she intended her voice to be heard tonight. Ladies Avery and Somersby did not know what happened to Lady Ingram any better than Livia did, and she’d be damned if she allowed them to besmirch Lord Ingram’s good name with insinuations and irresponsible conjectures.
Days of premonition had not prepared her for what awaited her in the icehouse, but she no longer had the luxury of cowering in her room and hoping someone else would ride to the rescue. By God, she would defend him or go down trying.
Lord Ingram receivedthe police sergeant in the library. The trio of constables he had brought would make a tally of guests and servants and question every last one. But Sergeant Ellerby had reserved for himself the initial interviews with the four witnesses who’d stumbled upon the body—and the master of Stern Hollow.
Lord Ingram had met county inspectors who had spent decades dealing with the darkest underbelly of London, world-weary men who had seen every variant of greed, cruelty, and criminal ingenuity. Sergeant Ellerby was not such a man. He was visibly affected by both the opulence of the house and the possibility that the offspring of a duke had slain his own wife.
Mrs. Sanborn, the housekeeper, entered behind Sergeant Ellerby, carrying a tea tray. She poured for the men and left quietly.
“Cream? Sugar?” Lord Ingram inquired, his voice suitably courteous.
“Neither, thank you.”
“I’d offer you something stronger, Sergeant, but I imagine that would be frowned upon.”
“Indeed it would. But please, my lord, take what you need. This is a day that calls for potent spirits.”
Lord Ingram filled a glass with whisky. He didn’t love intoxicants a quarter as much as Charlotte Holmes relished baked goods, but his capacity for spirits rivaled hers for cake. And tonight he intended to put that capacity to use.
A hard-drinking man was less likely to give the impression of being calculating.
He took a large swallow of the amber liquid, wincing as his throat burned. “What may I do for you, Sergeant?”
