Page 21 of The Secret of the Three Fates
The constable laid his clammy palm over the top of mine, holding me firmly to the table. “I don’t think so,MissVaughn. You see, I know you’re lying to me. The inspector”—he cocked his head, a lecherous smile on his face—“he knows it too. And if you were anyone else, you’d already be in irons on your way to Edinburgh.”
My skin crawled as he ran a finger down the back of my hand while the inspector watched, motionless. Panic clawed its way up my chest.
“Believe what you will, I’ve told you exactly what happened last night.” I struggled to summon my mother’s chilliness, a skill I could scarcely manage in the best of times. “And if you would please remove your hand from my person.” I tried to tug myself free, but he didn’t release me. Instead he pressed harder against the wooden surface, causing the skin to pinch and my palm to dig into the rough grain.
Spittle flew from his lips as he leaned closer still. “You see, what I think happened is this: I think you were out with your lover, the old bitch interrupted you, then Lord Hawick did her in—”
“How dare you! That woman was murdered.Murdered,and you would insult her in such a way when you ought to be finding her killer?” With a firm tug, I managed to jerk my hand back, scraping it along the desktop. I spun around, snatching up my tweed jacket and made for the door, both men watching me with thinly veiled contempt. “Until you have something other than insinuations about my virtue or lack thereof, I’d appreciate you leaving me in peace. Go find the real killer, fellas, because I have better things to do than talk to either of you. Maybe you shouldgo over to Hawick House if you’re so certain he did it and leave me out of things.”
I stormed out of the small drawing room into the main dining room. My pulse ricocheting through my veins. This was terrible. I’d lost my temper and in the process made things infinitely worse for all of us.
I hurried along the sunny hallway toward my room when I ran smack into a warm body. Stammering out a nonsensical apology, I suddenly realized exactlywhosebody it was.
I’d crashed into the Duke of Biddlesford. My day could not get any worse. I suppose it could—at least I hadn’t knocked him down the stairs, killing him in the process. Nowthatwould have been a problem.
The duke smiled down at me patiently, his golden hair neatly combed back. He was dressed for golf and had a green-handled walking stick.
“Are you all right there?” Convinced I wasn’t about to topple over, he released me, patting me on the shoulder.
I nodded numbly, still reeling from my encounter with the inspector. “Fine. Just fine.”
“That’s good to hear. I believe you are Ruby Vaughn, are you not?”
I was surprised he knew my name at all. “I am. And you are?” I didn’t need to ask, as I knew full well who he was. Mr. Owen had told me as much at the séance, but I was feeling a bit combative after my run-in with the inspector.
“James Swindon, Duke of Biddlesford,” he said with an almost rueful smile as if to apologize for his title. There was something boyish about the gesture that instantly made me feel guilty for being cross. “I think I’m next.”
He inclined his head toward the doors I’d just left.
“They’re questioning a duke?” I couldn’t disguise my surprise. In my previous encounters with the British aristocracy, anytransgressions would be immediately brushed beneath the rug. To question a duke in a murder investigation was downright revolutionary.
He nodded, looking nearly as perplexed as I. “It seems so. I’m beginning to wish I’d not heeded my wife’s wishes. She was insistent upon coming. I could not tell her no.”
My ears pricked at his words. “Is she interested in the occult, Your Grace?” I asked politely, wondering how far I could pry before this duke would tire of speaking to me.
“Not at all. I found it peculiar at the time, but you know how women can be. And if this took her fancy, then how could I disappoint her?”
My mind was working twice as hard as before. I couldn’t very well ask if she’d received a letter requesting her presence here, but perhaps I’d get a chance to speak with Her Grace later. “Have they questioned her?”
He shook his head. “No, not yet, though I fear her nerves will get the better of her. I do not relish the idea of her sitting alone with them. My wife has a delicate constitution. I worry for her even on the best of days but to be questioned by the inspector?” He grimaced before shaking his head. “I hear they ruffled Lady Morton earlier, a feat I’d like to have seen. Perhaps that alone is worth the inconvenience.”
I snorted back a laugh; this duke was nothing like I expected. I’d known others of his kind. Stuffy and full of their own pomposity. But the Duke of Biddlesford was a great deal more likable than the others of his ilk. Then I remembered what Mr. Owen had said at the séance—he’d known Biddlesford as a young man. Perhaps that’s why this man was remotely tolerable. He had Mr. Owen’s seal of approval.
“As would I. She doesn’t seem to like me much.”
The duke gave me a conspiratorial grin. “Lady Morton doesn’t seem to likememuch either, if it’s any consolation. I don’t thinkshe’s liked anyone since she was a girl. But I had best see what the inspector has to ask.”
“Good luck, Your Grace.”
“I’m a duke, Miss Vaughn. I don’t need luck.” He flashed me a sad smile and shook his head. “Terrible business about the medium, though a woman like that, I suspect she had a great many enemies.” He nodded to me and started down the hall. I leaned against the wallpaper, watching as he disappeared into the dining hall, realizing I now had a series of puzzles to solve instead of just one.
Whoever killed Lucy Campbell was inextricably linked to the reason we were all brought here. I had no proof of that, well—little proofbesides the letter from Mr. Owen and my peculiar conversation with Lady Amelia—but signs certainly pointed to the fact that Lucy Campbell wanted us all to come to Manhurst Castle for the séance.
Thewhywas the difficult part. And was it Lucy herself who wanted us here, or was there someone or something else at play that I had not yet considered? I ought to leave it to the authorities as I’d scolded Lady Amelia this morning. However, the men who questioned me this morning did not instill confidence that they’d do the job properly.
I was shaken from my wonderings by the arrival of Andrew Lennox. “Are you all right, Miss Vaughn?”
I suddenly realized he’d been standing there for several seconds before I noticed he’d been speaking to me. Andrew’s gaze dropped to my injured hand, swollen and scraped with a smattering of thick dark splinters on the palm.
