Page 22 of The Secret of the Three Fates
I’d been distracted by the duke and the mystery of Lucy Campbell’s death and nearly forgotten my injury. I folded my fingers into a fist. “It is nothing. I was just questioned by the inspector. That’s all.”
“Did they harm you?” Andrew’s voice grew grave. He reacheddown, taking my hand and gently unfurled my fingers for his inspection.
“No. Nothing of the sort,” I lied, wincing as he touched the large splinter in the middle of my palm. “I am fine.”
He probed around, testing each finger and joint to be sure no real damage had been done. I stepped back, tugging my hand away. “I’m fine. Truly.”
“Nothing seems amiss. Only a bit swollen, it might bruise. I could see to the bandaging if you’d like?”
“No. No, I’ll be all right.” I took a step back. Andrew nodded politely and turned, heading back to his room presumably—or wherever it was he was going—and I set off in search of the only person on this entire estate wholly unconnected to Lucy Campbell to help me unravel this mess.
Ruan Kivell.
CHAPTERTENLady Detectiving
ITtook only twenty minutes of wandering the halls of Manhurst before I found Ruan in the courtyard. He was sitting alone at a marble-topped table near the edge of the slate flags with a pot of tea and his head in a book. In the hours since we’d seen each other this morning he must have secured a room—or Mr. Owen secured one for him—as he’d managed to both bathe and change from his rumpled suit into a smart pair of gray trousers and an improbably green cardigan. His shorter curls were rebelling against whatever he’d used to slick them back, and I could not help but smile at the sight of them. I hesitated, drinking in the entirely un-Ruan-like sight. When I’d first met him at the seaside, with his trousers rolled up and knee-deep in the water he’d seemed free from the world around him, yet here in this place he appeared utterly confined by it. Bound by the rules of polite society. I missed it a bit—that untamed Ruan—but I supposed I could appreciate this version as well.
I cleared my throat as I approached the table.
He didn’t look up at all, simply folded the corner of his page and closed the book before setting it down. “What’s your plan?”
I ignored his question, staring at the desecrated medical texthe’d been reading. The horror evident on my face. “I cannot believe you just did that.”
He arched a brow in challenge. “It’s a book, Ruby. They are meant to be used. Surely, you’ve seen worse than this living with Owen. Now, are you going to tell me what brought you out here or do I have to start guessing?”
The courtyard was relatively empty with the exception of the duke’s wife, Catherine, I think Mr. Owen said her name was. She and Lady Morton were deep in conversation, having not taken any notice of me. Odd, as Lady Morton rarely wasted the opportunity to stare disapproving daggers at me whenever I entered a room.
I bit the inside of my cheek. “Can we go somewhere?”Private.
He must have heard me, because he nodded, gathering up the misused text and tucking it into the large pocket on his cardigan. He took a sip of the tea before placing the cup back on the saucer. “Shall we?”
Ruan matched me stride for stride as we walked out across the pasture with no real direction in mind. The speed at which we fell back into that easy companionship we’d had in Cornwall both surprised and comforted me. He didn’t interrupt me once as I told him what I’d learned from Lady Amelia in the orangery followed by my unpleasant encounter with the inspector and how determined the authorities were that I’d had something to do with Lucy’s death.
The cool autumn wind whipped at my hair as I paused, pushing it back from my face, and I looked up at him. “What do you think?”
He huffed out a breath, stuffing his hands into his pockets. His green eyes cast toward the sky as he weighed his thoughts. “What am I not thinking?”
“That’s not very helpful. I wish we still had her body. The inspector indicated that they removed it from the estate early this morning.”
Ruan gave me a puzzled look. “Why in the gods’ names do you want her body?”
I poked him in the ribs. “I have a dead medium. Maybe aPellarwould be useful in this instance.”
“Doubtful. My head is a disaster. I’m afraid I’m less than useful at present. I thought tea and quiet would help matters but it only grows worse by the moment. The noise in the courtyard was worse than inside the castle.”
“How is that possible—you were alone—” but the word died on my lips. “Ruan, those women out there with you. Did you hear them?”
“It doesn’t work that way—not usually. As I told you—most times when I can hear a person’s thoughts it’s a word here or there. A general sense or feeling of something. Dread. Fear. You though…” He hesitated, studying my face, then let out a strange laugh before shaking his head. “You are entirely different and I do not understandthatat all.”
Because you hear me.
He nodded again, his lower lip caught in his teeth. “It’s better all the way out here. At the house you’re scarcely louder than anyone else—imagine a whisper competing with the roar of an engine. It worries me.”
“Do you have any idea why that would be?” I took a moment to orient myself. Manhurst was far in the distance. We’d nearly wandered onto Hawick lands again—probably a mile or more from the house. “Or do you think it’s because we’re standing in the middle of a field up to our knees in mud with only sheep to compete for your attention?” As if prompted, a particularly fluffy sheep bleated out in agreement.
He sighed, rolling his eyes to the sky. “You are maddening.”
“Yes, yes. One of my numerous good qualities I’m sure. But back to the point at hand. Those women in the courtyard—didyou sense anything from them? Overhear even a whisper of their conversation?”
