Page 49 of The Remarkable Myth of a Nameless Lady
“I am trying to get to the bottom of that unfortunate shooting—the one that might have taken your life or mine, if the shooter had not missed their true target. They were just about to give me their thoughts when you stumble in, like a newborn calf.” Owen pulled a sour face, while the two women paled in the low light.
“Why did you not bring me in to assist you, instead of vanishing into thin air to conduct this in secret? It concerns me, too.” Jacob waited for a reply, tapping his foot impatiently. “Indeed, this entire situation concerns me.”
“It should not. It is merely a matter of logistics and common sense. The staff in this house know me better than you. They are more inclined to trust me, instead of an outsider,” Owen retorted. “Now, with you here, I doubt they will say a word, if theydidsee anything of what occurred.”
“They saw something?” Jacob raised an eyebrow. “What did they see? Meghan—you must have been in the hallway where the shooter fired, not long before he struck. Who was there? Who did you see?”
“I’m not saying aught. You cannae make me,” Meghan replied stubbornly. She definitely knew something, but her lips appeared to be sealed.
Jacob held onto his composure. “Mistress Marigold? Might you be more forthcoming? Do not forget that I am the one in control of this house, and I may decide who is permitted to keep their employment and who is not.”
The older woman shook her head. “I don’t have anything to say on the matter, as I told Lord Owen. As far as I’m concerned, all the blame points to the Price lass and her father.”
“But Miss Price was with my brother. How could it have anything to do with her?” Jacob remarked, trying not to sound too defensive of her character.
“Well, just her father, then, though bad apples don’t fall far from the tree. I heard from one of the others that it was his musket that was used—what more evidence could you need, that he’s the one responsible?” Mistress Marigold could not look Jacob in the eye as she spoke, smarting of suspicion.
“Brother? Do you believe this to be true?” Jacob turned to Owen, who showed very little on his face. A blank canvas, that revealed nothing.
“I do not know—that is why I brought them down here, so I might get a better grasp of the situation,” Owen muttered, clearly sore that Jacob had happened upon them. “You threatening their employment is not going to make them more inclined to speak.”
Jacob realized he had to think quickly. Alicia was at her father’s house right this minute, trying to garner whatever she could from him. That meant Jacob needed to buy her some time, to give her the chance to find out if her father really was to blame for the shooting that might have robbed him of his life.
“Brother, have these two taken away and put in the outbuilding beside the laundry—the one without windows. Make sure a guard is stationed outside. Perhaps, after a night in there, they might feel more agreeable to telling us what they know of this incident. If they still will not talk, we may have to call upon the constables.” Jacob did not intend to go to the lengths of bringing in the constables, but he hoped the idea might be enough to get the ladies to speak.
“Lord Owen, you can’t!” Meghan wailed. “You can’t let him!”
Jacob narrowed his eyes. “I am the Duke of this household. It is not a matter of my brotherallowingme to lock up two individuals who may be withholding information.”
To Jacob’s surprise, Owen sighed. “If you are intent on remaining silent, I have no choice but to agree with my brother. You have not given me a name, though I have tried to be reasonable, and you cannot confirm if the musket does, indeed, belong to Mr. Price. It is only hearsay. If you will stay quiet, then you must be duly isolated until you change your minds.”
Jacob tried not to show his shock. “You agree with me?”
“Stranger things have happened.” Owen shrugged. “Now, I will take them to the outbuilding, as you have asked, and I will have guards stationed.”
“Lord Owen… please, have mercy!” Meghan gaped at him.
“You will not say another word against this, if you know what is good for you,” Owen replied sharply. He glowered at her, to further make his point.
Immediately, Meghan retreated into herself, her body shaking in fright. Jacob felt somewhat guilty about putting the two women in this position, but if they would not reveal what they knew, then they had to be shown that such silence would not be accepted. Even Mistress Marigold, despite her formidable stature, seemed cowed by Owen’s harsh tone.
“As you please, My Lord,” Mistress Marigold muttered.
“Then follow me, and do not utter a word of disobedience or the constables will be sent for tonight instead.” Owen pushed past Jacob and began to mount the stairs. Mistress Marigold and Meghan followed him solemnly, though he turned halfway up. “Are you not joining us, so you can see the job is done to your preference? I know you like to oversee the minutia of every action I take in this household.”
Jacob swallowed his impulse to retaliate. “No, I am sure you can manage. After all, you are eager to prove that your way is superior, and I have come to learn that, perhaps, you know more of this house than I do. For now, at least.” He paused. “Besides, if anything goes awry, it will fall on you.”
Owen snorted. “Nothing will go awry.”
“Makes sure it does not,” Jacob replied. He had been confused to begin with, upon entering the curious situation in the cellar. However, his brother’s agreement that his course of action was the right one had thrown him somewhat. Deep down, a part of him had hoped it might be the first signal of a truce between them, but it looked as if that was rapidly fading away.
Indeed, he was growing evermore certain that repairing his relationship with his brother was a bridge he would never be able to traverse. There was too much water beneath it, through no fault of his own. Yes, he ought to have listened to Owen’s suggestions and instructions without feeling as though it were a slight. And, yes, he ought to have tried to be less brash in his new role as Duke and attempted not to throw his weight about so much. But Owen had been equally responsible for making the transition difficult.
In truth, he had never felt more detached from his brother or his family. Even a mutual brush with death had not warmed Owen’s feelings toward him. Every day, and with every incident, small or large, he received another reminder of the stark fact.
I do not belong here…
He thought of Alicia—that spirited creature who had enraptured him. If she were here, she would no doubt scold him and urge him not to let these troubles cling to his conflicted mind. He let that calm him, for there was something he had to do.
