“Edgerton?” Atherton drawled, not moving. “What is the meaning of this unseemly row? As you see, I am engaged at present.”
Michael crossed the floor in a few strides, and hauled Atherton bodily out of his chair, spilling wine everywhere. “Youliedto me, you snivelling little snake! You lied to me and bribed that poor girl to lie, too.”
“Really, Edgerton, what a fuss!”
“What a fuss?A fuss, is that all this is to you? Your own uncle by marriage was slaughtered in his bed, and you lied to me about your actions that night. Give me one good reason — just one — why I should not have you arrested for murder right now and thrown into York Gaol to rot.”
“You cannot arrest me.”
“Do you want to put it to the test?” Michael hissed, drawing his sword and levelling the point at Atherton’s throat. “Do notdareto defy me, Eustace Atherton. You paid Daisy Marler to say that you were here all that night, she has confessed that she lied and now you have no one to vouch for you.”
Silence fell. The bailiff, or whatever he might be, was edging out of the door, while the manservant stood motionless, his eyes flicking from one man to the other.
“Oh, put away your sword, Edgerton,” Atherton said tiredly. “Your posturing does not impress me. You,” he said to the manservant. “Get out and shut the door.”
The room fell into silence again. Atherton produced a handkerchief and dabbed at the wine stains on his waistcoat.
“Look at this!” he said, gesturing at the stain. “A good waistcoat ruined. Do you have to be so damnably melodramatic?”
“You lied to me, when I am investigating a murder in your own family. What interpretation am I meant to put upon that?”
“The obvious one,” Atherton spat. “You purport to be a gentleman, Edgerton. Surely you can think of an honourable reason why I might have asked Daisy Marler to say she had spent the night here — which she has done many times, in fact.”
“I am not minded for guessing games.”
Atherton sighed. “Are you going to sheathe your sword, Captain? I am not going to run away.”
Michael reluctantly acceded, for it was obvious that Eustace Atherton was not intimidated.
“There was someone with me that night, but she is a lady and I did not want her name bandied about by the likes of you. Everything that Daisy told you happened was true, except that it was not Daisy but someone else.”
“Her name?”
“Did you not hear me? I do not want her talked about as if she were nobody.”
“She is gentry, then? Or nobility?”
“Not noble, but a very respectable family. Her father would be appalled to know that she spent a night with me.”
“That I understand, but I can be perfectly discreet, when I choose to be. I must have a name and direction, Mr Atherton. Under the circumstances, you cannot expect me simply to take your word for it.”
Atherton walked across to the window, and stood there gazing out at the neat gardens. Welwood was a modest estate, but he kept it in good order.
Eventually, he turned. “I am not sure I can tell you. I promised her that no one would ever know.”
Michael moved to the side table where the wine decanters stood and poured two glasses of Madeira. “Mr Atherton, I do not seriously imagine that you crept out in the middle of the night, rode the twelve miles to Corland, murdered your uncle, and calmly rode home again with no one any the wiser. For one thing, your grooms all assure me that no horse or saddle was removed overnight, and I believe them. I also know perfectly well that you hadsomeonein your bed that night, because your cook showed me her records of the dinner that evening, and breakfast the next day. So I am not here to trip you up. But you lied to me, and nothing less than perfect honesty will satisfy me now. I must have the name and direction of the lady.”
Atherton chewed his lip, but then took a deep breath. “Her name is Rosamunde Wilkes. Her father’s estate is beyond Newcastle, but she often stays with her aunt in Scarborough. That is how I met her. The aunt is… helpful, shall we say in the matter of overnight visits.”
“Is Miss Wilkes at Scarborough just now? I shall need her direction, so that I can talk to her.”
“No! You must not!”
“I shall avoid her father, naturally, but you must see that I have to talk to her. You can bring her here, if you prefer.”
Atherton was breathing heavily, but after a moment he nodded, curtly. “Very well.”
“And soon,” Michael said. “York Gaol is still an option, Mr Atherton. You have one week to produce the lady.”
