“Stop it, Michael,” Luce hissed, but she smiled affectionately at him, and the little knot of anger inside him melted slightly.
“Sorry,” he murmured.
The dinner guests were assembling in the great hall. The earl was smiling, moving from group to group, with Lady Olivia, practically bouncing with excitement, at his side. Mr Alfred Strong had Lady Alice on his arm, guiding her through the throng and explaining who was there. Sir Hubert and Lady Strong were keeping a watchful eye on Julia, Emily and Penelope Atherton, whose parents were to arrive later. The Cathcarts were standing a little aside, Kent Atherton and Miss Parish close together and talking excitedly. There was no sign of Tess Nicholson, but Michael hardly expected her. There was never any knowing what that girl would get up to next.
Mr Eustace Atherton was the first to approach them, the elegantly dressed Miss Wilkes on his arm.
“Mrs Edgerton. Captain.” He made a graceful bow. “Delighted to see you both here, and that your investigations can spare you to us for one evening at least. Or is this just another part of your work? Are you watching us all for signs of guilt?”
He laughed heartily at his own joke.
“It would make my life easier if a murderer always looked shifty, but sadly, it is rarely the case,” Michael said thoughtfully. “But I never entirely leave behind the investigation, either. Tonight I am here because of one of those little details that may or may not be connected.”
“Michael,” Luce murmured warningly.
“And so that my wife may dress in her finery, of course,” he said smoothly. “One likes to see the ladies in their best gowns. Miss Wilkes looks charming tonight.”
He bowed courteously to the lady, who acknowledged the compliment with an inclination of her head.
“Oh… thank you,” Atherton said, smiling at her. “But then, my dear Rosamunde always looks charming. But what is this possibly unconnected detail, Captain?”
“I have not forgotten that Miss Franklyn was being watched by someone from the woods not far from here. You will remember it, too, sir, for you came upon her on one such occasion and were able to escort her safely home.”
“Indeed, I do, and very glad I was to be of service. It was most fortunate that I happened to be passing. But I supposed the fellow was merely a stranger skulking in the woods for reasons of his own. Have there been other sightings since then?”
“Not that I have heard, but I shall be glad to have it confirmed by the lady herself this evening. Miss Franklyn has always been accompanied on her rides since that time, for Mr Bertram Atherton takes good care of his future wife, but I shall be happy to see her safely married the day after tomorrow.”
“Amen to that,” he said. “By the way, I have received word of a couple of interesting guns, a blunderbuss and a rifle, that may soon be in my hands. If I am successful, you must come out to Welwood to try them out.” Then, with a bow, he moved away with Miss Wilkes.
“He is trying to butter you up,” Luce said in her severest tones. “And he managed to wheedle information from you, too.”
Michael threw a quizzical glance at Luce. “Well, I had to answer him when he persevered. It would not have been polite to refuse.”
“I know, and he has always taken a great interest in your investigations.”
“For which I am very thankful, for without his diligence we might never have found poor Peachy’s body.”
“You have forgiven him for deceiving you over Miss Wilkes, then?”
“His motives were honourable, to protect a lady.”
“If indeed she is a lady.”
He looked at her askance. “What does that mean?”
“Oh, she plays the part convincingly, but there is something… off about her. Nervousness, perhaps. A certain reticence, which is unusual in one of her rank. And frankly, Michael, noladywould spend the night with a man in that way.”
“That is true. And there is the black wig, as well. One might want to conceal one’s true appearance in a public setting, but at your lover’s house? That seems strange. Oh! A wig! I wonder if Miss Peach had a wig? Perhaps that is why no one remembers seeing her.”
Luce sighed. “There, I have set you off again. I really should know better by now. Look, we are moving forward. The bridal party must be arriving.”
They followed the crowd through the passage to the entrance hall, where most of the guests lingered in a chattering, excited group, but several of the younger members of the party went outside onto the bridge to welcome the arrivals.
Michael, his insatiable curiosity unable to resist, went outside onto the bridge across the moat, too. A large cluster of grooms and gardeners and housemaids loitered a respectful distance away, at the top of the steps leading down into the moat. Two carriages lumbered slowly up the drive and drew to a halt at the far side of the bridge.
The two butlers stepped forward to open the doors and let down the steps. From the first carriage, the parents emerged, Mr and Mrs George Atherton, and Mr and Lady Esther Franklyn. From the second came Mr Bertram Atherton, who handed down his betrothed, Miss Bea Franklyn. They smiled, Miss Franklyn waved cheerily to the servants, they moved towards the bridge—
The bang echoed shockingly off the walls. Everyone froze, looking around, bewildered, for the cause of the explosion.
