Page 30 of The Secret of the Three Fates
“And he took the revolver from the scene, returning it to you?”
I nodded again, not quite liking where Ruan was headed. Coldness sank beneath my skin as I watched him in the firelight. “You cannot possibly think that Andrew Lennox killed her. Why would he?”
“I don’t know, but if Owen is a viscount, then his nephew would be his heir.Andrewwould be his heir.”
“But what would he stand to gain by killingher? Why not just kill Mr. Owen?” The question gave me pause.
“I don’t know. I’ve never liked him, and never trusted him. He was a beastly boy at Oxford, I cannot imagine time has made him any better.”
“At Oxford? What were you doing at Oxford?”
Ruan let out a startled laugh. “What everyone else does at Oxford. Read books, sit examinations. Make questionable life decisions. Are you surprised by that fact?”
“I suppose not.” I had never asked about Ruan’s past. I didn’t like the place—at least my own—and as a result I tried not to muck around in other people’s either.
“I don’t speak much of it. It wasn’t a happy time in my life. A wealthy benefactor sent me up. It’s not unusual for clever boys to have a patron pay their way through school. I’ve never been ashamed of the fact I was a charity case—it was a better option than staying in the mines—that’s for certain. But it’s where I met Andrew. I never finished. I ah… left… midway through my last year there.”
“I’m sorry.”
His features were cast in shadow. “I’m not. I never fit in with any of the lads. I saw their world, realized it wasn’t for me, and when an opportunity arose, I went back home where I belonged.”
There was a sadness there, and I hated it. Hated everyone in the world who put that in his eyes. I reached out, taking his hand in mine, palm to palm. “I’m glad you’re not like them.”
He let out a sound of amusement and laced his fingers in mine. “You came here tonight to tell me that Owen’s a viscount and to remind me that Andy is a great arse?”
I let out a startled laugh and shook my head. “Yes… well… no, not entirely.” I pulled my hand from his, regretting the loss of contact at once, and withdrew the glass plate negatives from my pocket, careful of the broken edges. “I found these.” I handed them over to him. “Do you remember how I told you that I’d gone into Lucy’s bedroom looking for her the night of the murder? I went back today and the entire room had been ransacked.”
“Youwhat? After all that’s happened, you are still nosing around?” He sat up straighter and I noticed a silver chain hung around his neck, with a golden ring at the end. In the darkness I couldn’t quite make it out. Had he a sweetheart? Jealousy coiled in my stomach. Jealousy? That’s preposterous. I didn’t getjealous.I swallowed the sensation down, clearing my throat.
“Of course, I am. The authorities are convinced I’m involved, and someone has been trying to make it look that way. Besides, I didn’t come here to be chided by you. I came for your help.” I pointed at the negatives in his lap for emphasis. “So, yes. I am poking around.”
“And you think that sneaking around the estate stealing things will make you looklessguilty.”
I rolled my eyes.
“You must be careful. This isn’t Cornwall. I can’t get you out of trouble here if you wind up on the wrong side of the law.” Ruan grumbled as he tilted the glass plates into the firelight, studying them intently. His expression grew comically horrified. “What are these?”
It seemed my country Pellar wasn’t quite as experienced with cabinet cards as I. “I’m not sure. I found them in Lucy’s room. I think it’s what her killer was looking for. What do you make of them?”
Ruan’s ears grew that endearing shade of pink again. “That your dead medium has very interesting hobbies.”
“Have you ever seen such a thing?”
He raised an eyebrow. “Are you really asking that question? To me this looks like some sort of club or group. See how they’re all wearing the same chain around their neck?”
I moved nearer to him, resting my hip on the arm of his chair, and looked down into the image in his hands. “I wish we had someone we could trust who could print the photographs. It would be a great deal easier to see what we’re working with.”
Ruan made a sound of agreement in his throat as he gingerly moved through the images, one by one, and indeed each of the men wore a chain around their neck which bore an odd resemblance to a livery collar.
“That seems uncomfortable.”
Ruan laughed. “You are the most astonishing creature I’ve ever met. I ponder about the existence of sex clubs and you are concerned over what they’re wearing.”
I stood quickly and began to pace the darkened corners of his room. He’d been here less than a day and the place even smelled of Cornwall. Of those herbs he’d have drying from the beam in his sitting room. “What ifthisis what Lucy wanted to tell me that night and that the answer to who killed her is in those photographs somehow? Lucy was afraid of something, desperate enough to meet me at midnight on a bridge. What I don’t know is what the images are supposed to tell me. Do they identify someone, or some place?”
Ruan leaned back, watching me as I tried to burn off the nervous energy taking over my body. “How does the séance fit in with your theory?”
I ran my hands roughly over my face, looking at him through my fingers. “It doesn’t. I’m still not certain if it was real. ButMr. Owen seems to think it was real enough. Itfeltreal, Ruan. And you know I don’t ordinarily believe in ghosts but it certainlyfeltlike a ghost.”
