Page 20 of The Secret of the Three Fates
NOTfive minutes after leaving Lady Amelia in the abandoned orangery I found myself in the company of Inspector Burnett and his young constable. The pair had just finished speaking with Lady Morton as I returned to the castle and the men latched on to me at once. My timing could not have been worse.
For four hours, we remained sequestered in a cramped closet outside the dining hall, the scent of food drifting in through the closed door, causing my stomach to rumble longingly. The inspector would ask the same questions over and over and I would answer them to the best of my knowledge. I certainly doubted that they’d kept Lady Morton in here this long without food or drink, but was wise enough not to comment.
All in all, I thought I was doing quite well, functioning on three hours of sleep and a pot and a half of coffee; however, I doubted the inspector agreed. The odious man eyed me across the rickety table.
“Tell us again, Miss Vaughn, what happened that night,” he growled.
I might have been more inclined to do so, had they the decency to offer me a glass of water, or a pickle and cheese sandwich. But asit was, my temper was running short. I rubbed my right eye, trying to decide if I’d changed my story at all since I’d been in here.Ididn’t think I had, but I was also near delirious with hunger and exhaustion—I might have said anything just to get something to eat.
“I have told you everything I know in every way I know how. May I please return to my room?” I asked, trying my best to appear an obedient girl, my hands demurely in my lap.
Inspector Burnett, the older of the two men, leaned across the table, his bushy eyebrows raised. He had dark hair that had gone silver at the temples and he was missing the tip of his forefinger, a fact I noticed as he rested his chin on his hand. “Funny, because I don’t believe youhavetold us everything.”
I let out a little harrumph of annoyance, sounding far too much like Mr. Owen, before settling back in my chair.
“It doesn’t make sense to me, what you were doing out there…alone,” the young constable added, drawling out the final word.
There was that question again, and I had a sense that they would not accept the excuse I’d given to Andrew Lennox earlier this morning. “I was walking, as I told you before. I couldn’t sleep after the commotion with the séance and went out to clear my head.”
“Couldn’t sleep, could you?” The constable waggled an eyebrow, withdrawing a large box from beneath the table. He lifted the lid and piece by piece withdrew my missing coat, my shoes, and the golden cloth hairpiece that had fallen into the tall grass when I took my tumble in the foxhole—or whatever it had been.
My breath caught in my chest. That’s where the missing items had gone.
“The staff here tells us that you came back with your hair all knotted, dress ripped and stained. They also found your coat and things lying in the tall grass beside the bridge… From where I’m standing, it certainly looks like you were doing abitmore than walking last night.”
“How dare you…”
“Then perhaps you’d care to enlighten us how your belongings got there?” The inspector flashed a wicked smile at me with his yellowing teeth.
The room was stiflingly hot. Sweat beaded up along the collar of my blouse, bleeding through and darkening the fabric. I shifted in the uncomfortable wooden chair. Good God. “I fell.In the grass. Then I took my shoes and coat off to jump in a damned lake to save what Ithoughtwas a drowning woman.”
“Aye, lass, but what were you doing in the grass to begin with at that time of night? When anyone or anything may have come upon you?” Inspector Burnett probed, his stale breath hot in my face.
Clearly,walkingwas not the answer he was looking for, but it was the truth. I tugged my legs up beneath me—one of the thousand benefits to riding breeches, in my estimation—the young constable leered at my thighs and then raised his brows with a decidedly unprofessional gleam in his beady eyes.
“I’m not afraid of the dark, Inspector. After four years of driving an ambulance during the war, there’s nothing in nature that frightens me, of that I can assure you.”Men, on the other hand.
The inspector’s expression softened at mention of the war, but the young constable remained unfazed, transfixed upon what I wore. Perhaps he’d suddenly discovered the novelty of a woman in trousers. “Or were you meeting someone out there?” the constable challenged. “You see, Miss Vaughn, you were overheard arguing with a woman outside Miss Campbell’s room before midnight. Then for you to be the one who found her body, I’d say that’s more than enough evidence to have you brought in.”
My throat grew tight. “As I told you, I wanted some air.”
The younger one flicked his attention over my loose-fitting lilac blouse with its sweat spots from this stagnant room. My jawtightened in response, temper barely reined in. I was a Vaughn, after all. No one spoke to me like this.
“You see, what doesn’t make sense to me is this: a lady like you—” He pointed in the general vicinity of my bosom.
I crossed my arms. My bosom was none of his concern.
“You come to meet us in broad daylight wearing trousers like one of the lads. And yet you went for an evening stroll dressed for supper and leave half your clothing in the field. Why would that be?”
“One does tend to wear evening gowns in theevening.And while I don’t know how my coat was found in the grass, I assure you I took it off before jumping into the lake to try to save Miss Campbell. Perhaps some animal carried it off—but I promise you I did not hurt that woman. If I were you, I would spend more time worrying about who did kill Lucy Campbell and less time trying to concoct convoluted stories about me. As I have told you a dozen times—I went for a walk, saw the candles, and drew nearer. That was when I saw her floating in the water. I took off my coat—as not to drown myself in the process—jumped in and pulled her out.”
“Candles?” the inspector asked, attention rapt as he leaned across the table. “You’d not mentioned that before, and there were no candles out there, Miss Vaughn. Nothing at all of the sort.”
I stared at him, dumbfounded—and they saw it in my expression. “But how is that possible? There were candles. Thirteen of them. And a salt circle when I arrived. That would mean…”
“It’d mean that you’re making up ghost stories, lass, to cover your tracks. We know you were out there. What we don’t know is why,” Inspector Burnett said, his voice slightly softer. “If you were out with your lover, tell us and save us the time of finding out on our own. There’s no harm in having a discreet affair…”
I shot to my feet, not even having to feign offense. I had donea great many things in my life that I regretted, but I would never be ashamed of taking my pleasure as a man would. My personal life was none of their business, especially as it had no bearing on poor Miss Campbell’s death. “We are done here, gentlemen.”
