Page 53 of Long Live the Baron
Briggs shook his head.“I can find no other suspects amongst the servants. Michaels is the only one who has any reason to harbor resentments toward your family.”
Brendan cleared his throat. “However, it cannot be discounted that one of the servants has been paid by the killer to remain silent.”
“Agreed. Given that we know that the study and your room have been searched, there are issues with believing that Michaels killed the baron out of some long-ago quest for revenge for what happened to his father. The accidental death of a gamekeeper more than thirty years ago would not explain why he would search your home.”
“So, to sum it up, we know nothing of any use. The barons I visited could only tell me they shared some banal discourse before the ceremony began and once it was completed. The late baron did not attend any of the gatherings that came after, and Michaels states he returned home in time for dinner. He gave his valet the night off to visit family here in London, then ate his evening meal in the formal dining room. After dinner, he closed himself in the study and instructed the servants not to disturb him because he had correspondence to write. Sometime between ten o’clock and dawn he was bludgeoned over the head with a weapon of convenience—a sculpture that they took from the mantelpiece.”
“He was killed much earlier than dawn, according to the coroner. By the time we arrived, he had been dead for several hours.”
Brendan nodded. “We will assume, then, that he was killed sometime between ten o’clock and approximately midnight. Most of the male servants would have been in the servants’ hall by midnight.”
Briggs nodded. “Which means one of the servants could be lying about their whereabouts, and they had the opportunity to murder him …”
“Or Michaels, or one of the footmen, answered the door to let the killer in, who then paid or threatened them into silence …”
“And is searching for something in the house that perhaps connects the killer to the baron …”
“Or is searching for something entirely different,” Brendan finished. “In other words, we do know nothing.”
Briggs rubbed his neck, clearly embarrassed. “The problem lies in the fact that the baron has been at his country seat for two decades. There are no connections in London that I have been able to find. No acquaintances to look into. I questioned his solicitors, but they had nothing to reveal. The baron lived his entire life in Filminster. Perhaps the answer lies there.”
“The baron hated to travel. Enough to shirk his duties at Westminster since inheriting the title so he could remain at home. Perhaps I should leave for Baydon Hall to find anything that might throw light on this? I could remove Lady Filminster from danger if I travel without any of the servants from this household.”
Briggs stroked his mustache thoughtfully. “There might be merit to it. I could continue the investigation here, but I can recommend a runner that you might take with you to assist.”
Brendan stood up, pacing the library as he deliberated this course of action. The truth was, he did not want Lily to leave his side. He enjoyed her company and their night together …
I would not complain about sharing more nights like that with my wife.
Lily was a revelation. She lifted his spirits with her exuberance, and had saved him from a chaotic and prolonged trial with her earnest sense of justice, and she brought all that energy to the bedroom. He was still marveling two days later about their night of shared passion. It had been disappointing to not make it home the night before.
“I will do it. Lady Filminster and I will leave for Baydon Hall as soon as I can make arrangements for transportation. Perhaps the duke can lend me a carriage and servants.”
“Then I will contact the runner I have in mind and request his assistance in Filminster. I will bring him by in the morning.”
After the runner left, Brendan checked the time, realizing the day was mostly over, despite the summer light shining through the aged windows of the library, and it was nearly dinnertime. Most of the arrangements would have to wait until morning, as Briggs had suggested.
Brendan was satisfied with the plan they had discussed. He could keep Lily safe by taking her to Filminster, and Briggs would sort out the muddle with the servants in his absence. He would need to decide what he should take with him, so he sat down to make a list of tasks to prepare to depart with Lily the next day.
A knock on the library door interrupted his thoughts while he was straightening his papers on the table.
Michaels opened the door, making his announcement to the room in general with an air of boredom. “Lady Slight to see you, milord.”
Brendan sprang up, horrified to see Harriet entering and astounded that Michaels had granted her entry without his authority. “What are you doing here?”
CHAPTER15
“Now, when your weapons are dulled, your ardor damped, your strength exhausted and your treasure spent, other chieftains will spring up to take advantage of your extremity. Then no man, however wise, will be able to avert the consequences that must ensue.”
Sun Tzu, L’Art de la Guerre (The Art of War)
* * *
Michaels had left in a hurry, shutting the door behind him. Brendan clenched his jaw in anger. Perhaps he would pension off his bastard of a butler, after all. It was high time he hired someone who respected him. Brendan had always treated servants well, and the butler’s continued disdain was beyond the pale.
Breathing deeply, he fought for his composure. Finally, he repeated the question that had not been answered.
“Harriet, what are you doing here?”
