“Your nieces don’t know you killed their father?”
“They don’t know he was killed. Rose told them he died in his sleep.”
“Is she packing them up to go? What will you do when they learn the truth?”
“I don’t know.” He hooked his fingers in his waistband. “I’m just concentrating on being an uncle while they’re still here.”
She tried not to look skeptical. “Do you know much about being an uncle?”
“Not one whit.”
“Then what are you doing to be uncle-ish?”
“Keeping my promise of a party for Jane’s birthday.”
“A party for Jane’s—that’s very kind of you, but her father died last night.”
“He was worthless.” Mr. Lioncroft fell silent, then regarded her with an odd expression. “From the moment I first saw you, Miss Pemberton, I knew you were different.”
Evangeline’s heart thudded. “What—what do you mean?”
He advanced closer until she could feel the heat from his body through the thin silk of her gown. “You’re stubborn. Intelligent. Passionate.” His voice turned husky. “Beautiful in a far better way.”
“I…” She fought the urge to reach for him, to touch him, to close the gap between them. “Oh.”
“But perhaps I have a blind spot.” Mr. Lioncroft stepped backward. A cool draft sliced across her body. She took a hesitant step forward, caught herself in motion, and froze. His words were no longer complimentary. “Perhaps you’ve entranced me merely to throw suspicion from yourself.”
“Frommyself?” Evangeline sputtered. “Suspicion of what?”
“Perhaps you are the mysterious murderer. You are not even an invited guest. What brings you to Blackberry Manor?”
“I—the Stantons invited me. I’m a family friend… of sorts. Not a murderer.”
“So you say. But you are as much an outsider as I am, if not more so in this circumstance. The killer was someone capable of lifting a pillow. You are capable of such strength, are you not? The killer roamed the passageways alone last night. You roamed the passageways alone last night.” A small self-deprecating smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. “Much as I would like to believe otherwise, I’m well aware you stumbled upon my presence by accident. The killer lied about his whereabouts at the breakfast table this morning. You, madam, lied about your whereabouts.”
“Everybody lied!” She cast a nervous glance toward the cracked salon door, wondering if the three persons hovering outside could hear the hushed conversation within.
“Ah. But although everyone seemed content to agree Heatherbrook died by strangulation, you were the one who pronounced him suffocated to death. How would you know, if you were not the one to do so?”
“I-I—” She had been accused of many things in her life, but murder? She’d never have come within eyesight of Lord Heatherbrook’s corpse had her goal not been justice. Evangeline pushed at Mr. Lioncroft’s chest in frustration. He remained immobile.
“Perhaps you merely stood in the shadows and watched,” he continued, his words low and relentless. “Perhaps you orchestrated the event from afar. I saw you speaking to a strange maid right before dinner. Later I discovered that same maid in Heatherbrook’s employ. Beaten. And then he ended up dead.”
“Why would I instruct a servant to do such a horrible thing?” She struggled to free herself and failed. “That makes no sense.”
His head bent until the tip of his nose was but a hand’s width from hers. “I have no way to know your motives, madam. The Lord does not speak to me.” He paused. His faintly tea-scented breath tickled her forehead, her cheek, her eyelashes. “You agree the maid could have wielded the pillow?”
“Any servant could’ve done so,” she bit out, “but not onmyorders.”
“Ifanyservant could’ve done so, you agree dozens of individuals other than myself may have been the villain.” And he smiled at her. Satisfied.
Evangeline jerked her wrists from his grip as she realized he had never once thought her guilty of such a horrible crime—he was merely illustrating that whatever evidence the party believed they had against him was based on superstition and supposition rather than fact.
“Fair enough,” she muttered.
His lashes lowered. “You believe me innocent?”
“No,” she said. “But I don’tnotbelieve you.”
