The pity that gushed from him was not welcome.
She did not deserve pity. She did not welcome his compassion.
She was a fraud, a villain even. She invited him to enter and be seated, and then asked Mr. Girard to bring tea.
It was all rather civil really.
The magistrate pulled out the notebook she remembered from the last time he’d spoken to her and began reading off some of the details he had scribbled earlier.
Apparently, all of the bodies had been recovered.
They’d managed to attach a hoist to the wreckage, detach the front axle, and pull it to a level area above the water. Some rescuers had been lowered, and the bodies had then been lifted out. He assured her that the deaths occurred quickly; he was mostly certain. The impact had done most of the damage. He did not think any of the gentlemen had drowned. The bodies had been pulled up on the village side where the road had collapsed. He asked her if she had any instructions as to what the duchess would have him do with them, since they could not be brought back to the castle.
“Eden’s Court,” she said. “They must be transported to the duke’s estate in Kent.” The family plot was in Kent. The duchess had lamented to her several times that they could not bring Harold home with them, where he belonged. “Whatever the cost, I am certain that is where the duchess would have them laid to rest.”
“Do you know where we can locate Captain Brookes?” he questioned her then. “Our records show he is the heir. What, with your husband gone, and the marques, as well as the duke and his brother. Captain Brookes must be notified immediately. We’ve deployed messengers to London in order to begin all necessary legal proceedings.”
Sophia’s head spun.
Dev? Dev was the duke now?
Oh, dear God, but he wasn’t.
Harold was.
In that moment, she was severely tempted to tell the magistrate everything. Harold must be found. He must be intercepted before leaving England for God knew where. He was all his mother had left.
“I’ve sent for Captain Brookes already,” she heard herself say. Suddenly, for the first time, tears threatened to escape from behind her eyes. What a quagmire they’d created. This poor, poor, family had been decimated, and all because of her!
If she hadn’t married Harold, none of them would have come to Priory Point.
If she hadn’t assisted Harold in staging his death, they would not have been on the road yesterday.
And if they hadn’t been on the road yesterday, they would not have been killed.
Even now, she worried for the duchess’ health. Although her grace was by no means an elderly woman, the toll of all of this was enough to cause even a young woman to become frail and despondent.
Could a person die of a broken heart?
Sophia wondered.
Would it never end?
“My lady? My lady?” The magistrate was speaking to her still.
“I’m sorry. Pardon me?” She sat up straight and schooled her features into impassiveness.
The housekeeper entered after softly tapping on the door. She carried a setup with tea and morning victuals.
Sophia nodded as the servant set the tray down on a nearby table.
Sophia was supposed to do something now.
Oh, yes. It was her duty, as hostess, to serve the tea.
She stood, for all the world as though this were any polite call, and then poured the magistrate’s tea. She remembered from his other visit that he took his tea with just a splash of milk.
She methodically prepared the familiar beverage and placed it on the table beside the magistrate. Then, lifting the plate of pastries, she offered it to him as well.
