Immediately the door opened, admitting all her gentlemen at once.
Evan was carrying a tray, and he set it down on the bedside table. “I skipped tea and went straight for the brandy,” he glanced at her. “Best thing for shock.” He passed her a glass with a healthy amount of deep amber liquid.
“Good idea,” said Daniel. “Is there enough for all of us?”
So glasses were filled, and everyone settled. Adalyn stayed by the fire, Giles sat opposite, and Evan, Daniel and Trick sprawled on the bed. Jeremy sat on the floor next to her.
She glanced around, aware that this many men in the bedroom of an unmarried woman, widow or not, would be considered outrageous.
But somehow, she found it quite the reverse. It was natural, comforting, as if her family had gathered near her for protection and warmth.
“Tell us, Adalyn,” began Giles. “In your own words. Trick can fill in what he saw when you’re finished.”
She cupped her hands around the brandy, sipped and nodded. “Very well. We arrived on time…”
The story unfolded, Adalyn doing her best to be accurate, right down to the conversations. When she reached the point of their departure from the dining room, she paused for another sip.
“It’s hard, I know, but you are doing very well,” murmured Daniel.
“Amazingly well, Adalyn,” added Evan. “I feel as if I’d been there.”
“I wish you had,” she answered. “The food would have been so much better.”
There was a general chuckle at her small jest, and she found it encouraging. “There was a warm fire going,” she continued, telling of the tea, the conversation and Sir Amery’s cross-examination on the matter of Wolfbridge.
“So he still wanted it,” muttered Giles. “Damn the man. He thought of you as fresh prey.”
“I believe so, yes.”
Trick cleared his throat. “I must say that our Adalyn was very skilled and adept at turning his questions aside without insulting him. I was impressed.”
She glanced at him with a small smile. “Thank you, Trick. I was actually angry at his rudeness, but I’m glad to know it didn’t show.”
“So how long were you in the parlour before…the trouble?” Evan posed the question.
“I would venture to say a scant half an hour?” She cocked an eyebrow at Trick, who nodded in agreement.
“So all told, we might guess that close to two hours had passed since you sat down at the dining table?” Evan’s face was sombre.
“At least,” she concurred. “Perhaps even more. There were so many dishes I lost count. But Trick was standing the entire time we ate. What do you think, Trick? Two hours at the table, perhaps?”
“A week more like,” he grimaced. “At least it felt that way to me.”
She sighed. “I’m sure it did. I am sorry about that.”
“There wasn’t anything you could do, Adalyn. Not your fault at all.”
“All right then,” Evan harked back to his original question. “Let’s be generous and say three hours from start to finish. Er…” he paused, “That would be Sir Amery’s finish.”
“Oh dear,” Adalyn winced. “Not how I would have phrased it, but yes. I suppose that would be pretty much on the mark.”
“You have a reason for asking about the time, Evan…” Jeremy spoke, making Adalyn jump. He had been so quiet she’d almost forgotten he was there beside her, leaning against a bit of her leg.
Evan nodded, his expression grave. “I do. Adalyn, do you remember who first mentioned poison?”
She shook her head. “In all the fuss and bother, no, I don’t. One of the maids, I believe, who came hurrying out of the room after we’d taken our leave.” She frowned “Wait. I think…I think she said it was Mr. Wandsworth who had suggested it.”
“Ah,” nodded Giles. “Fairhurst’s butler. Poor man must be in a terrible spin at the moment.”
