“I can’t explain it, other than to say the arson doesn’t feel supernatural.” She drew her brows together. “I’m not discrediting the notion that Bloody Thom exists, but my instincts tell me that it was a flesh-and-blood foe who set fire to the gazebo.”
“As it happens, there is evidence to corroborate your instincts,” Ethan said grimly. “The Hirschfield brothers were using the old gamekeeper’s cottage to store their equipment, and when they went by today, they saw that someone had taken the supply of linseed oil. They think someone doused the gazebo with the oil to increase its flammability.”
“Odds bodkins,” Xenia said, eyes wide. “Do they have any idea who did it?”
“No.” Ethan’s expression was stark. “Last night, I had guards posted at the front and back gates of the manor. They did not see anyone enter or leave the property. Which leads me to an unwelcome conclusion.”
“It was someone who was already inside the manor,” Xenia said, stunned.
“I cannot think of a more likely explanation. It was around two in the morning when we noticed the fire, which means someone exited the manor, fetched the linseed oil, then set the gazebo on fire.”
“Wouldn’t the guards have noticed?”
“They are more focused on potential intruders cominginthan getting out. And if the culprit is indeed someone currently in the manor, they will have observed the guards’ schedule and routine. They could figure out a way to sneak around without being seen.”
“Who do you think is responsible? One of the staff…or one of the guests?”
Thinking of Ethan’s recent betrayal by those close to him, she felt a spreading chill.
“I have no idea.” The ice in his voice conveyed that he, too, was contemplating duplicity. “I sent word to Rawlins. Everyone who was in the manor last night must be treated as a potential suspect—except you, Gigi, and my longtime retainers.”
Xenia wondered if Rawlins would agree with Ethan’s exceptions. The constable would probably want to interrogate everyone with no exclusions. Dread percolated through her as she thought about him digging into her past. What if he unearthed her connection to her mama?
Should I tell Ethan everything?
Indecision churned her insides as she contemplated telling him the truth: that she was the daughter of Joanna Wardell, the infamous cutthroat dubbed “Lady Jo” because of her elegant beauty and manners, never mind that she would murder you for the right price. Or just for fun. Lady Jo led her roving gang wherever there was a fortune to be had, lurid accounts of her crimes filling the newspapers. Her ability to evade the authorities was legendary.
Would Ethan cast Xenia off because of her family connection? He would have every right to. Strangely, it wasn’t his rejection she feared the most but the opposite: if he wanted to protect her, he would be guaranteeing his own doom. She’d promised herself that she wouldn’t allow her past to hurt him—that she would run before she let that happen.
Yet how can I run now when he’s dealing with a secret nemesis?
As she gnawed on her lip, debating her options, Brunswick approached.
“My lord,” the butler said. “You have visitors.”
“Rawlins and his men are here already?” Ethan said. “That was quick.”
“It is not the constable.”
Xenia didn’t understand Brunswick’s guarded look.
Ethan cocked his head. “Who is it, then?”
“The Marquess and Marchioness of Blackwood, sir, and the Earl of Manderly.” The butler inhaled like a messenger who didn’t wish to deliver the news. “And Lord Owen as well.”
ChapterTwenty-Nine
If someone had told Xenia that she would be having tea with a marquess, marchioness, and an earl, she would have laughed and asked for the punchline of the joke. Yet the event had somehow come to pass. When Xenia had brought in the tea cart—thank goodness for Mrs. Johnson who, despite last night’s fracas, had managed to bake her delectable scones—she’d planned to deposit the refreshments and leave.
Ethan had had a different plan, however. He’d blocked her path, taking her by the elbow and turning her to face his entire family.
“Everyone,” he’d said calmly, “may I introduce to you my housekeeper, Xenia Wood? Mrs. Wood, these are my parents, the Marquess and Marchioness of Blackwood. My younger brother, Lord Owen Harrington. You already know my other siblings.”
“It is, um, an honor.” Xenia had curtsied and stammered. “A true, um, pleasure to make your acquaintances.”
Ethan’s parents had exchanged a look that made her cheeks warm. However, they and the rest of his family greeted her with nothing but politeness, as if Ethan introducing his housekeeper to them was a perfectly normal thing to do. Then, before she could make her escape, Lady Gigi hopped aboard Ethan’s train of madness.
“Do come sit with me, Xenia.” Lady Gigi had patted the seat next to her on the settee. “If things get boring, we can finish the discussion ofJane Eyrewe started last night.”
