“There is no need to shilly-shally, sir,” Mama said briskly. “Given that my son’s well-being is at stake, the sooner we know Mr. Gill’s whereabouts, the better.”
“Very good, my lady.” Rawlins cleared his throat. “However, Mr. Gill is no longer a threat to his lordship’s, or anyone’s, well-being. He was found this morning…drowned in a creek.”
ChapterThirty
After touring the site of the fire, Rawlins conducted his interviews. He’d advised against Ethan being present as he thought that might intimidate the staff and prevent them from being entirely truthful. Ethan had relented, with the caveat that Rawlins apprise him of all findings. The constable did so, reporting that William and Fred had been asleep when the fire started, and as they shared quarters, they provided alibis for one another.
Mrs. Johnson had also been asleep, but she had her own room, and no one could confirm or deny her claim. Canning and Parkhurst claimed they’d stayed up playing cards, parting ways sometime after one. Having developed a megrim, Canning had requested willow bark from Brunswick, who verified that he’d brought the powder to the guest around two o’clock before heading to bed himself.
“If the fire started around two in the morning,” Rawlins concluded, “then the whereabouts of Mrs. Johnson and Mr. Parkhurst during that time remain unconfirmed. I will delve deeper into your cook’s background, my lord. As for Mr. Parkhurst…”
“Leave him to me,” Ethan said starkly.
“As you wish. There is, er, one other matter.”
The constable’s hesitation caused Ethan’s nape to prickle.
“Yes?”
“It concerns Mrs. Wood.” Rawlins cleared his throat. “I know she was with you at the time the fire started, but she seemed rather nervous when I spoke with her?—”
“I did not give you leave to interview her,” Ethan cut in.
“Yes, but she is, after all, a newer addition to your household. I would suggest taking the precaution?—”
“Mrs. Wood is not involved,” Ethan said firmly. “You are not to harass her further. Is that understood?”
“As you wish, my lord.”
Afterward, Ethan found himself mulling over the constable’s words. Xenia’s nervousness did not surprise him; after all, he knew she had secrets. What bothered him was that he’d not yet won her trust, and he was getting tired of waiting. He had been forthright about wanting a future with her…hell, he’d introduced her to his family, and she’d more than held her own with them. He refused to hide her like some dirty secret. She was a part of his life—a permanent part once he could get her to discuss the future without wheezing—and those in his inner circle might as well get used to it.
Papa and James strode into the study together.
“Ready to go?” Papa asked. “I’ve had the carriage brought around.”
Ethan nodded, and they headed out.
Ethan’s gut had told him that Dobson Gill’s demise was no accident. Since Rawlins had his hands full, Ethan had decided to make inquiries on his own. He wanted to search Gill’s lodgings to see if he could turn up any clues. Papa and James had insisted on accompanying him, and he saw no reason to turn down their company. He was, however, relieved that Owen had decided not to join. While he and his younger brother had managed to be in the same room without succumbing to fisticuffs, he didn’t want to push his luck.
Papa’s well-sprung carriage bounced over the country road, the rolling hills and farms passing by in a blur of green and gold. Sitting across from him, Papa and James discussed land management, a topic the two had a shared passion for and which Ethan had once found soporific. Now that he was managing his own estate, the conversation held some interest for him. It felt good being in his family’s company again. In fact, it felt almost like old times—before his injury and the falling-out with Owen. He felt lighter and better than he had in a long time.
He cleared his throat. “I am surprised you managed to convince Mama to stay home.”
“You know better than that, lad.” Beneath the brim of his hat, Papa’s eyes gleamed with amusement. “No one convinces Mama to do anything she does not wish to do. She said she had other plans today.”
“What sort of plans?”
“She did not inform me of the specifics,” Papa replied.
“Maybe she is tending to Owen,” Ethan said.
Instantly, he was embarrassed by his snide remark. Devil take it, he was no longer a child competing with his siblings for parental affection. Growing up, Owen had been the baby for years before Gigi came along, and he’d leveraged his position to his advantage, especially where Ethan was concerned. He’d instigated fights for which Ethan got blamed and acted like a daredevil without fear of reprisal. Once, he’d fallen out of a tree and nearly flattened Mama, who’d tried to catch him…but Owen, being Owen, escaped punishment.
Ethan was ashamed that he’d held on to the old, petty resentment. Rationally, he knew their parents loved him and his siblings equally. He also understood why Owen had needed the bulk of their parents’ attention since his return from war.
“Owen is fine.” Papa’s tone held no judgment. “In fact, he is better than I’ve seen him in some time.”
“Then why didn’t he join us?” Ethan couldn’t help but inquire.
