Mr. Liddle looked at him, then nodded. He uncrossed his arms. “Let me go down first to inspect the scene, to see if there are any other marks on him that might let us know if he fell or someone pushed him. Those signs may not be clear once he is brought up,” Mr. Liddle said.
Lakehurst scowled but agreed. “We’ll tie the rope around this large rock,” he said.
Mr. Liddle looked at the area and nodded. “That looks strong enough not to pull out.” He pulled gloves out of his pocket, then removed his coat before putting the gloves on.
Cassie thought gloves were an excellent idea. “Henry,” she called out. “Please return to the castle to fetch Viscount Lakehurst’s gloves.”
With the rope in place, Mr. Liddle eased himself over the side of the cliff and slowly climbed down, avoiding scrubby bits of bushes and grasses growing from cracks in the rock. He squatted down next to Carlyle’s body when he reached the ledge. He examined his hands and head and pulled his shirt away from his neck. Then he carefully turned the man over. Carlyle’s body was near to tumbling further down the rock face. He checked him over, then rolled him back, away from the treacherous edge. He stood and stared down at the body for a moment longer, his hands on his hips, then grabbed the rope to climb back up.
Lakehurst reached out a hand to him as he got near the top and pulled him up the rest of the way.
“As I believe you suspected, my lord, the man did not accidentally fall; but he was not simply pushed, either.” He slipped his coat back on. “There are signs on his neck that show someone strangled him first.”
“Strangled!” Cassie repeated.
Mr. Liddle turned toward her. “Yes, my lady. And I’d say the person approached him from behind and used their bare hands. There are bruises in the shape of finger marks on the front of his neck.”
“But why kill Carlyle?” Cassie said. “He was a gentle, faithful soul.”
“He was also the only person from the castle staff here that night,” Lakehurst said grimly.
“That night?” prompted Mr. Liddle.
“The night of the Marquess of Darkford’s death,” Lakehurst said.
“It was Carlyle who removed Richard’s body from on top of me and brought me out of the cave,” Cassie explained.
Lakehurst looked at Cassie. “Carlyle told me he wasn’t dead yet, though he expired shortly after he moved him,” Lakehurst said.
“Did he say anything else?” Mr. Liddle asked.
“Carlyle said the Marquess tried to tell him something; however, the light was dim and his head was turned slightly away. Carlyle tried to understand. He thought he said something likemy braormy bro, he couldn’t tell what he was trying to say as he was fading fast, his lips barely moving.”
“But Carlyle told me Richard was already dead!” cried Cassie.
“He told you that to help ease your mind. If you had known he was alive while he laid across you and you could do nothing to help it would have destroyed you.”
Tears filled her eyes. “He might have thought right.”
“Someone thinks he knew something. And perhaps he did,” Mr. Liddle said grimly.
“I’ll bring him up,” Lakehurst said.
“I suggest taking your boots off. I wished I had,” Mr. Liddle said.
He looked down at his heavy boots and nodded. “Excellent suggestion.” He sat down on the rock they’d wrapped the rope around, removed his boots, then stood and removed his jacket. Looking at Cassie a moment, he draped his coat over her shoulders. “You forgot your shawl,” he said softly.
She nodded and pulled his coat close around her shoulders. It was warm and smelled of him.
Lakehurst put on the leather gloves Henry brought him.
Cassie reached out to touch his arm. “Be careful,” she whispered.
He nodded.
Grabbing the rope and loosely wrapping it around himself, he climbed down the rocks. Once on the ledge, he stooped to pick up Carlyle. The poor man’s body was stiffening, the smell of death rising. He’d been dead for a while.
He hefted him onto his shoulder, then using a knife Mr. Liddle had handed him before he descended, he cut off a length of rope to secure Carlyle to his chest, for once grateful he was a large man.
