Page 17 of The Secret of the Three Fates
“I do not know. But I knew Ben. I met him briefly after the war. I was on the hospital ship the night he died. We were all coming home together…”
I could see the weariness return to his expression at mention of the war, but I wasn’t going to press him. Not now. “Mr. Owen said that Lucy had brought him here to relay a message from Ben. But during the séance, the spirit that spoke to us was that of a woman. A Mariah. I meant to ask Mr. Owen about her, but he hasn’t been well and you know how he can be when pushed.”
Ruan nodded, placing the disc in my palm, folding my fingers around it, his hand remaining there a second too long.
“You don’t happen to know who Mariah is?”
His hand was warm over mine as he shook his head. “Who else knows of this tag?”
I looked down to our clasped hands. “Only you.”
“Best keep it that way.”
My thoughts exactly. “What about Mr. Owen’s nephew? Shouldn’t he know?”
The muscle leapt in Ruan’s jaw as he struggled to keep his tone even. “Absolutely not.”
“You know each other then?”
Ruan frowned. “We do. But back to matters at hand. You fished the dead woman from the lake. Made certain she was dead. We’re at what? Approximately half past twelve?”
I was rather impressed at his ability to piece this together—even if he was prickly when it came to Captain Lennox. “Then I ran back to the castle grounds for help. I hadn’t the strength to carry her back and well… she was dead already. I didn’t see the point in it.”
“What then?” His eyes sparkled, as if he were enjoying this far more than a man ought to.
“I came to the castle half-frozen, and ran into Mr. Owen’s nephew. He’d been in the gardens and I bumped into him coming up the steps from the lawn.”
Ruan arched a dark brow. “What was he doing in the garden at that time of night?”
“Walking, I suppose. He’d been smoking a pipe.”
“But you ran into him…” Ruan eyed the borrowed dinner jacket still lying over my chair, piecing together bits of the night, and I wondered precisely what incorrect assumption he’d added up in his head.
“It was a long night,” I snapped, before softening my tone. “But yes, I came back to the house, he found some blankets, warmed me up and went with some servants to bring the body back.”
“Stay away from him, Ruby.”
“From who?”
“Andrew Lennox. Stay far away. He’s a dangerous man. I cannot stress to you how important this is for you to understand. He is not to be trusted.”
I let out a strangled laugh. The fellow who gave me his jacketand cosseted me like a small child. Dangerous? It was laughable really. My housekeeper, Mrs. Penrose, was more likely to be a murderer than he. “Why on earth would I? He’s Mr. Owen’s nephew and has shown himself to be a perfect gentleman.” I reached out, taking the identification disc, and stuffed it into my pocket. “And why, pray tell, do you think he’s dangerous? You’ll have to be a bit more forthcoming and stop sitting there glowering at me like my great-aunt Prudence.”
Ruan smirked. It seemed Mr. Owen’s habit of inventing distant P-named female relations was rubbing off. “I know… you’re your own woman…” He ran his hand over his beard, drawing my attention to his full lower lip. “Promise me, Ruby… Promise me you’ll be careful. Ben trusted him and look what happened.”
Now that brought my thoughts back to the present. “Wait… is that why you’re here? Does your presence have something to do with Ben?”
Ruan nodded. “I’m afraid it may. Mr. Owen sent me to bring him something of Ben’s that he’d left with me for safekeeping.”
I eyed his pocket.
“Don’t ask questions I cannot answer. It’s Owen’s story to tell. Not mine.”
“I dislike your discretion. You know that, don’t you?”
The edge of his mouth quirked up. Arrogant man.
I toyed with the disc in my pocket. “Why do you hate Andrew?”
