Lady Inglewood agreed.
The vicar sadly nodded.
“If you are feeling up to standing now, you should go home and rest,” Cecilia suggested.
“Yes, I’ll fetch the carriage,” George offered.
“Can you stand?” Cecilia asked.
“I think so.”
She started to get up, then noticed the blood on her gown. “Oh, dear.”
“Don’t let it worry you.”
“But the people outside?”
“All know what happened. Do not be embarrassed,” Cecilia said.
Cecilia and James helped Lady Inglewood to her feet and led her outside. James lifted her into their carriage.
“Thank you,” she murmured. Some people remained around the church, though many had gone home. Those who remained looked on her with sympathy.
James backed away.
“Oh! Sir James! Wait!” George said. He stuffed his hand in his pocket and pulled out a battered and creased letter. “I brought this with me to give you today and almost forgot!”
James took the letter from George Inglewood’s outstretched hand and returned to Cecilia’s side.
“The letter from your cousin?” Cecilia asked.
“It is his handwriting,” James said.
Cecilia nodded. “Did the morning go as you expected?” she asked, threading her arm in his. They turned toward their home.
“Except for the knife and the gun, yes,” he said.
“I never thought gossip could be useful in catching a criminal,” she said as they walked the short distance to Summerworth Park.
“In many ways, anti-climactic,” he said, his brow furrowing as he thought over the past week.
“Except for the knife and the gun,” she parroted back.
He laughed.
EPILOGUE
THE LETTER
Cecilia sat in the nursery, nursing Hugh and telling Mary Alice what had happened that morning in church.
“When I was little, I remember Lady Inglewood as a smiling, laughing woman with a kind word for everyone. On holidays, she had treats for the village children, sweets she’d ordered all the way from London,” Mary Alice said, her expression far away with her memories. “Back then, Squire was away from home for weeks at a time.” Her face screwed up as she thought. “I don’t remember why. Of course, as young as I was, I might not have known or cared,” she said with a little laugh.
Hugh had fallen asleep while nursing. Cecilia shifted him to her shoulder and gently patted his back. She smiled as he scarcely woke when he burped. She laid him down in his bed.
“I am famished,” she whispered to Mary Alice. “Have you eaten?”
“Yes, my lady.”
