Alaric’s heart leapt. He tried not to let himself hope too much—not yet. “Who was with you at the rear of the column?”
“Edward, Henry, Guy, and Robert.”
All four of their principal suspects; Alaric felt his burgeoning hopes start to deflate.
“I don’t suppose,” Percy asked, “that you saw whether Rosa stared at a particular man before she came over faint.”
Monty shot Percy a supercilious look. “Of course I did. It was Edward. No idea why she should turn so green at the sight—he’s not bad looking, all in all, and he was turned out well enough—but she took one long gawp, then looked quite bilious.”
“Edward?” Alaric fought to keep his voice down. “You’re sure?”
Monty frowned as if offended. “Of course I’m sure. I was standing next to him.”
“Good God!” Percy breathed.
Alaric swung around and scanned the guests. After a second, Percy copied him.
“Edward’s not yet down, if that’s who you’re after,” Monty informed them.
“He must have done a bunk.” Percy sounded faintly panicked.
“Why?” Monty asked.
“Because he’s the murderer,” Percy hissed. “My God, I can barely believe it!”
Alaric was silent. Premonition stroked his nape with icy fingertips, and with increasing desperation, he scanned the guests again… “No. He hasn’t left yet—Constance isn’t here, either.”
He didn’t want to put the two circumstances together and make them one, but every instinct he possessed was screaming that was the case.
“I have to find Edward.” Abruptly, he started for the door.
He had a terrible fear that when he found Edward, he’d find Constance as well.
Alaric forged a path through the guests, dimly aware of the surprise on many faces as he passed without the slightest hint of a smile. He strode into the hall. A swift glance back showed Percy hurrying after him and Monty—insatiably curious—trotting behind.
Jaw setting, Alaric reached the main stairs. His heart a stone lump in his chest, he took the steps three at a time.
He hit the first floor at a run, making for the ladies’ wing. As he passed the mouth of the corridor leading down the west wing, he caught a glimpse of something out of place and turned his head and looked.
The door to Percy’s room was wide open. Judging by the state of the runner, there’d been a struggle in the corridor before the door.
Alaric skidded to a halt, changed directions, and charged down the west wing. He barreled straight into Percy’s room. The antechamber was empty. He rushed into the bedroom and wildly looked around, but it was empty—devoid of life—too.
Everything appeared undisturbed…except for the top right-hand drawer of the tallboy, which was hanging open.
Percy and Monty had piled into the room in Alaric’s wake.
Like Alaric, they both looked around, then Monty pointed to a spot on the floor. “What’s that?”
Alaric stalked over, bent, and swiped up a gold chain with a ring hanging from it.
Percy gave a cry. “That’s the ring I gave Glynis.”
Alaric dropped chain and ring into Percy’s reaching hands. Panic was a drumbeat in his blood. Where was Constance?
All rational and irrational thoughts insisted Edward had her, yet…
Alaric stalked back into the anteroom and headed for the corridor. He should check her room just in case his instincts had it wrong.
