Page 84 of Blackmail at Beckwith Place
He chuckled. “Did he tell you that?”
I snorted. “Of course not. Your father and I aren’t on speaking terms. Especially not now, when I would gladly throttle him for pushing you at Laetitia the way he’s doing. If you’re not careful, you’ll be engaged by the end of the weekend.”
“There are worse things,” Crispin said with a shrug. “Better than being arrested, at any rate.”
“Is there a chance of that?”
He squinted at me. “I figure it’s an equal chance that he’ll haul in any one of us, Darling. He’d prefer for it to be Francis, no doubt, but he’ll take any one of us he can get. We’ve all got alibis, but they’re all from people who’d lie for us anyway. I’d lie for Kit, and I’m sure Kit would do the same for me. Constance would lie for Francis. You’d lie for either of them, or for Constance?—”
“Or for you,” I said.
“Would you, Darling? Charmed, I’m sure.”
I shrugged. “Don’t be too flattered. I just don’t think you did it. I’m sure Christopher didn’t, and I don’t think Francis did, either. But none of you should need me to lie. Your alibis are good and neither of you had the opportunity to kill her.”
Crispin nodded. “Well, someone did. If not one of us, then someone else. What was that you were muttering about when you first turned up? Not Sammy what?”
“Oh.” I flushed. “None of your concern, St George.”
“Hmm.” He looked me up and down, with special attention to my flaming face. “Dear me, Darling, have you formed an illicit passion for Constable Entwistle? Is he your idea of the perfect husband?”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” I said. “He beat up Robbie. How could I form an illicit passion for someone who beat up my cousin?”
“I’m sure I don’t know, Darling. Not Sammy what, then?”
“I told you. None of your concern.”
He arched that infernal brow. “If you don’t tell me, you’ll have to put up with me drawing my own conclusions, you know.”
“I guess I’ll have to,” I said crossly, “because I promised, and…”
“Oho!” He grinned. “And who did you promise, pray tell?”
“No one,” I said, since I had already admitted more than I should have.
He gave me a shrewd look. “Uncle Herbert, was it? Oh, relax?—”
Because my eyes widened and my jaw dropped.
“I’m not a diviner or anything. I saw him let you out through the boot room door.”
“Oh.” I started breathing again. “Well, I’m sorry, St George, but I can’t?—”
“No, no.” He waved a hand. “I bet I know what it is anyway.”
I certainly wasn’t going to fall for that twice. So I put my hands on my hips and scowled at him. “You do not!”
“I may not. But I heard a few things when I was hiding in that secret passage outside Grandfather’s room before he died. Things I didn’t tell you at the time.”
“I’m sure you did,” I said, “you infernal cockroach?—”
“Now, now, Darling. Name-calling will get you nowhere.”
“I’m not trying to get anywhere! Unless it’s away from you, you awful excuse for a human being!”
“Uncle Herbert fathered a son with someone other than Aunt Roslyn,” Crispin said flatly, and I slapped my hand across his mouth.
“Be quiet!” For good measure, I leaned in until we were practically nose to nose and I could see his pupils dilate. “He told me not to tell anyone, and that means that I’m not to speak of it. Not even to someone who already knows. Certainly not where anyone else can hear! I want you to promise me that you won’t mention it again. Promise me, St George!”
