“Once he recovers enough to find his tongue,” Constance observed, “I’m sure he’ll be claiming all sorts of justifications for what he’s done.”
“Much good will it do him,” Alaric said. He doubted he would ever forget the sight of Edward with his hands locked about Constance’s throat.
The other gentlemen were ready to head back to the Hall. Several, including Monty, urged Percy to go with them, and as host, Percy acquiesced.
Percy paused beside Alaric and met his eyes. “Thank you for letting me hit him.”
Alaric inclined his head. “Thank you for doing it in time.”
Percy glanced at Constance, but she only dipped her head in agreement.
Percy nodded and clapped Alaric on the shoulder. “I’ll see you both back at the house.”
The gentlemen and Percy led the way. The constables with their prisoner stumbling between them followed, and Stokes, Barnaby, and Penelope fell in behind them.
Hand in hand, Alaric and Constance brought up the rear, both content to amble slowly through the thickening shadows and let the evening peace of the woods enfold them, easing all lingering tensions.
After a while, catching a glimpse of Percy and the gentlemen ahead on the path, Constance murmured, “Do you think Percy will be all right? That he’ll recover?”
Alaric had been turning that very question over in his mind. After a moment of searching for the right words, he answered, “Marrying Glynis would have been good for him—I don’t think anyone who knows him and had ever been even acquainted with her could doubt that. But being married to her wouldn’t have changed him—he would still have been the old Percy we all know. However”—he paused, then went on—“I have an inkling that having Glynis taken from him—ripped from his arms, so to speak—might well be the making of Percy.”
They walked on for a moment, then he glanced down, met her eyes, and gently smiled. “We’ll see.”
Constance pondered his words, then she leaned her head against his shoulder. “Thank you. If Glynis’s death does even that much good…that will be some small comfort to the family.”
Alaric glanced at her head, resting against his shoulder, then he bent his head and placed a kiss on her curls.
And as night fell about them, they walked on—back to the Hall, back to society, back to lives that had changed forever.
* * *
When Alaric and Constance reached the Hall, they found Stokes, Barnaby, and Penelope facing a demanding audience in the drawing room. All those who had remained—the ladies and the married couples—wanted to know the details of all that had transpired.
Barnaby took the lead, with Penelope assisting, while Stokes spoke only when it was necessary to insert the gravitas now accruing to Scotland Yard.
Alaric and Constance hung back by the door and watched and listened. At one point, Constance murmured, “I’m remembering all the less-than-complimentary remarks made earlier regarding the police.”
Alaric smiled cynically. “Stokes has done well by his office. None of those here will cast such aspersions again.”
“And they’ll spread the word,” Constance added.
When Penelope outlined their speculation that, on quitting the billiard room, Edward Mandeville’s manner of settling his coat had been idiosyncratic enough to jog Rosa Cleary’s memory and identify him as Glynis’s murderer, Monty spoke up and agreed, saying that Edward invariably jerked both lapels to settle his shoulders, stiffly tweaked his right sleeve, then his left, and finally passed his right hand over his hair before patting down the back of his collar.
Several others confirmed Monty’s description, which pleased Stokes as well as Penelope.
Eventually, the story of Edward Mandeville’s latest attempt at murder and his subsequent capture was exhaustively told.
Those of the company who hadn’t previously heard the complete accounting of his doings sat back and exchanged wide-eyed looks.
“I can’t believe it wasEdward!” Mrs. Collard shook her head. “My parents know his parents—they’re so very stuffy and strict, it’s all but impossible to imagine Edward, of all people, committing such atrocious acts.”
“I don’t know.” Henry Wynne looked at Percy. “Edward was always rabbiting on about the Mandeville family and how dashed superior they were—above all of us, certainly. When I heard him in that clearing…well, it seemed all of a piece.”
Monty nodded gravely. “All the pieces fitted neatly together. It was Edward first to last.”
“Indeed,” Stokes said. “And as Mr. Mandeville has helpfully confessed in the hearing of a great many witnesses, I can assure you all that this case will be closed, and he will stand trial and be convicted in due course.”
“Where is the fiend now?” Mrs. Cripps rather anxiously asked.
