“She was always reading books and journals on the subject, and going to St. George’s and lectures at the Royal Society. What would you call it?”
Before Kendra could reply, the door suddenly flew open and two young boys, about nine or ten, sprinted into the room.
“Papa! Papa!” they shouted, diving toward their father.
“Cecil kicked me, Papa—”
“I didnot! You kicked me first!”
The younger boy scowled at his brother. It made his small, chubby face look oddly like his father’s.In another forty years,Kendra thought,he’ll be a replica of Lord Westford.
“Children, children!” Mrs. O’Leary clapped her hands to gain their attention, then shot an apologetic look at Kendra and Alec. “We have guests. Bow to Lord and Lady Sutcliffe.”
The boys immediately fell into quick, sloppy bows.
“Ma’am, I do apologize!” exclaimed the harried young woman who materialized in the doorway. “They got away from me.”
Mrs. O’Leary rose, herding her boys to the door. “Don’t fret, Lauren. Come on, bratlings. You’re going back to the nursery.” She paused to glance back at Kendra. “We’ve told you everything. Westford was with me on Sunday. I will swear that under oath if I have to.”
Kendra nodded. “Thank you, Mrs. O’Leary. I have one more question for his lordship.”
“Go on, Heather,” Westford said, shoving himself to his feet, a signal that the interview was at end. “This won’t take long.”
Kendra and Alec stood, as well. Mrs. O’Leary and Lord Westford exchanged a look, and she reached out to capture his hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze. Westford’s face softened.
The look disappeared as soon as he turned to face them. “Well? What else do you want to know?”
“I want to know why you ordered Dr. Thornton to declare your wife’s death an accident?”
“What?”
“You interfered with an investigation, my lord. I want to know why.”
Kendra expected him to give the typical speech: how families were tarnished if it became known that their loved ones had committed suicide, how anyone who committed self-murder could not be buried on church grounds, and their souls were damned for eternity. She certainly expected him to justify pressuring Thornton to shut down any investigation.
But she was wrong.
Westford stared at her, mystified. “What the devil are you talking about? I told Dr. Thornton no such thing!Hewas the one who informed me that Grace had killed herself. To save our family from disgrace, he offered to declare the death an accident and even said that he could shut down the inquest. He never once mentioned the possibility that she could’ve been murdered.Never once.”
Chapter 25
Alec used the brass knocker when they arrived at Dr. Thornton’s townhome. After two rounds of polite knocking, Kendra used her fist to not-so-politely bang on the door.
“Damn it, where is he?” she muttered, tapping her foot impatiently.
“He could be making house calls,” Alec suggested.
“Where’s Jenny?”
“The market? Or her day off? Or she peered out of the window, saw your face and is now hiding under the bed rather than risk your wrath. You are a fearsome creature, my love.”
“Ha-ha. Very funny.”
Kendra took a step back to scan the house’s windows. Around them, the neighborhood hummed with quiet activity, but there was only stillness from Thornton’s townhouse. A sense of disquiet crept down Kendra’s spine.
“Let’s try the servant entrance,” she said, moving off the stoop and down the path.
Alec gave her a sidelong glance. “You think that Thornton has fled, don’t you?”
