“A gentleman goes to enough house parties, he knows to have a bedpartner in reserve if the top choice is unavailable. Monique wasn’t the only fish in the sea.”
“So you were with someone that night?” Kent said.
“Allnight. What a fine filly she turned out to be. Bit skinny for my taste, but a better ride than I expected, eh?” Wormleigh winked.
“I’ll need a name, my lord.” Although Kent’s features remained impassive, Richard heard the distaste in the investigator’s voice.
“Can’t give it. She made me promise to keep it a secret.” Wormleigh puffed out his chest. “Gave her my word of honor, sirrah.”
“She’s your alibi,” Richard said.
“Josephine Ashe,” Wormleigh blurted.
“Right.” Kent paused, his notebook still open. “Anything else you’d care to add?”
Wormleigh hesitated. “Come to think of it, there is one thing. When I walked by the library, I heard voices coming from within. I recall the clock chiming; it was just after two.”
During the window of time when Monique was killed.Richard tensed.
“Do you know who those voices belonged to?” Kent said sharply.
Wormleigh shook his head. “They were speaking quietly, their voices muffled through the door. It was a man and a woman—lovers, I assumed.”
“What made you assume that?” Richard said.
“Who else would be alone in the library at that time of night?” Wormleigh snorted. “And I did catch one word they were saying:Gretna. Stupid fools were probably plotting to run off together. For love or some equally asinine reason.”
“I’ll look into it,” Kent said. “Thank you, my lord—”
“Hello!”
Richard turned to see Violet ambling toward them. She was a vision of vitality in her blue cloak, the yellow feathers of her bonnet ruffling in the breeze. The duchess followed behind her.
“Good afternoon,” Violet said with a pretty curtsy.
“What a pretty picture you make, m’dear.” In a blink, Wormleigh transformed into a courtier, bowing over Violet’s hand while Richard gritted his teeth. “You are a spot of color amidst this dreary landscape.”
“Thank you. Hopefully, I won’t tip off the birds.”
Wormleigh flashed a smile. “They’ll think you are one of them with your lovely feathers.”
“Then I hope the hunters won’t make a mistake and take a shot atme,” Violet said.
Wormleigh’s smile didn’t waver. Richard could practically see the man searching for some flattering reply, and he spoke up to forestall any further flirtation.
“What are you doing here?” he said to her.
“We finished up early. Our chat was uneventful.”
Her message was clear: Wick’s secret was still safe. Relief swept through Richard.
“I wouldn’t exactly call it uneventful,” Her Grace muttered. “At least not your part in the business, Violet.”
Violet looked uneasy. Before he could ask what her sister meant, she pointed to the copse and said, “Look, the beaters are readying to flush the game again. Are you going to shoot, Lord Wormleigh?”
“Don’t think I’ll bother, my dear,” Wormleigh said grandly. “The guns are defective.”
“Really?” Violet glanced at the collection of firearms. “Allof them?”
