And she struggled to her feet, crossed the floor, and slipped from the room.
Chapter 34
Mr. Teasdale barely made it through the first course before nodding off in his chair. How he could sleep through Benedict Rutherford’s hacking cough and Edmund Rutherford’s drunken ranting, Evangeline couldn’t imagine. Both she and Francine Rutherford kept their eyes focused on their plates, so as to dissuade Edmund from inquiring their opinion as to which of the west wing parlor maids was the fairest.
Unlike Francine, Evangeline made sure to eat everything placed before her. Not only was the fare at Blackberry Manor far superior to any she’d had while living with her stepfather, but also, the future loomed uncertain before her. If she accepted Mr. Lioncroft’s offer of a carriage tomorrow—and of course she would, for what else could she do?—she still had no idea where she’d take shelter, much less where she’d get her meals.
On the other hand, she was beginning to think going without would be preferable to spending an hour trapped in a dining room with Edmund Rutherford.
“But the ginger-hackled servant heading toward the guest quarters when the dancing ended the other night,” he was saying now, fixing his bloodshot gaze on Benedict. “She may be a maid, but she’s not a maiden, am I right? Her skirts are as likely to be up as down.”
“I don’t know,” Benedict muttered. “Perhaps we could discuss something else?”
“Those freckles,” he continued as if Benedict hadn’t spoken. “I’d say…comelyall right.”
Francine’s fork clattered to her untouched plate. “Honestly, Edmund. There are ladies in the room.”
“Pah.” He grinned at her unrepentantly. “Ladies are so missish. That’s why I focus my attention on maids.”
“I didn’t notice any maids,” Benedict said in a calming voice, as though hoping to quit the topic before his wife stabbed his cousin with a fork. “I didn’t wander the halls after dancing.”
Evangeline set her utensils atop her plate. “But you did,” she said slowly, thinking back to that night. Not long after Mr. Teasdale’s cane had come clomping by, she’d heard…“Your cough. I heard you coughing from down the corridor.”
“Of course you did,” Edmund slurred. “The way he coughs, I’m surprised he doesn’t rattle the paintings right off the walls. If he was wandering the halls, I’m surprised he didn’t run across that maid with the plump set of—”
“If I did,” Benedict cut in, “I failed to notice. Why would I? I’m married.”
Edmund shrugged. “I don’t see what one thing has to do with the other. Do you, Francine? If I were married, I’d still be sure to hire maids I’d like to—”
“Whatdidyou notice?” Evangeline interrupted, leveling her gaze at Benedict.
“What?”
“You said you didn’t notice any maids, so you must’ve been looking for something else. Something you didn’t want us to know about, or you wouldn’t have lied about where you were. Something secret.”
Francine pushed her plate away. “Have you been keeping secrets from me, darling?”
“I—” Benedict paused, shifted, coughed discreetly into a handkerchief. “Perhaps I simply had no wish to hear conjecture about my presence and Heatherbrook’s death.”
“Why would anyone speculate on a correlation if you weren’t anywhere near him?” Francine asked reasonably.
Benedict didn’t answer.
“You argued with him after dancing,” Evangeline guessed. Perhaps she’d unmask the murderer before she left Blackberry Manor, after all! “You went to his room, you argued with him, and you killed him. Then you blamed the crime on Mr. Lioncroft.”
“I did nothing of the sort,” Benedict snapped. “He was dead when I got there. He—” Benedict paled, as if shocked by his own words.
“He was dead when you got there?” Evangeline repeated, her voice climbing. “He was dead when you got there, and you didn’t raise the hue and cry?”
“And be thought a murderer?”
Francine recoiled from her husband. “What were you doing in his bedchamber?”
“I went to confront him,” Benedict admitted after a moment. “But like I said, I didn’t get the chance.”
Edmund swirled his wine. “Confront him about what?”
Benedict hesitated, then turned to his wife. “I didn’t want you to know,” he said, “but we’re in a bit of a financial state.”
