“Did you have to go alone? Couldn’t you wait until I could go with you?”
“I didn’t want to wait for you and I didn’t want to argue about it in case you put me off. I have no patience about this, Rhys. Either we discover the truth or—”
“Or what?”
“Or I will write to Nicholas myself and tell him I’m alive. You said yourself that Nick was no longer a suspect. What can be the harm?”
“I did not precisely say that your brother was no longer suspect,” Rhys corrected. “I said I simply did not know any more. And the harm is clear. He will tell Victorine. She will mention it to Janet who will tell Raillier. In hours all of Dunnelly will know and before long, all of London. And six weeks later, long enough for a ship to cross the Atlantic from London to Boston, there will be more incidences like today. Only they won’t be accidents!”
“Then we had better identify the real murderer, Rhys, because I may take it in my mind to present myself on Nicholas’s doorstep!” She didn’t mean it. As soon as the words were out she regretted them. She had no intention of leaving Rhys, but the look on his face told her he believed she could. By the time she started to deny it she was talking to an empty room.
Kenna was sleeping when Rhys returned to the bedchamber. There were tear stains on Kenna’s flushed cheeks and a near empty glass of brandy on the nightstand. She would sleep quietly through the night, he thought, and proceeded to go through her reticule for the guest list. When he found it, he left as quietly as he had come then saddled his horse and rode furiously to Beacon Hill.
Rhys brushed past Widdoes when he opened the door and called to Tanner as he was about to step into the music room.
“Rhys! Good to see you. We were just about—”
“I want to see the Lescauts,” Rhys said brusquely. “And Devereaux.”
If Tanner was surprised by Rhys’s impatient manner, he did not show it. “Of course. Madeline and Etienne are with Alexis. I was about to join them. You’ve missed Michael, I’m afraid. He left today.”
That stopped Rhys in his tracks. “Left?”
Tanner nodded. “Yes. This morning. He booked passage back to London.”
Rhys followed Tanner slowly into the music room. “Wasn’t that rather sudden? I thought he was staying with you as long as the Lescauts.”
“We thought so, too. But Madeline says Michael always intended leaving Boston for London. He simply neglected to mention it to us.”
Etienne stood, holding out his hand to Rhys. “How good it is to see you again. I could not help but hear you were discussing Michael. It was a matter of finances,comprenez-vous?The passage to England was less money if he departed from Boston rather than New Orleans.”
“We tried to lend him the money,” Madeline said. “But he wouldn’t hear of it. He accepted passage to Boston instead.”
“Come, sit down,” said Alexis, pouring Rhys a tumbler of scotch, “Where is Kenna?”
Rhys accepted the drink but remained standing. “Kenna is sleeping. There was an accident this afternoon. Her carriage overturned.” He raised his hand to stop the questions they all voiced at once. “She’s fine.” He gulped back two swallows of scotch. “God, I wish Michael were here. I needed his help.”
Alexis’s eyes were watchful, following Rhys’s movements as he paced the floor. She knew a helplessness that was foreign to her and looked to Tanner for guidance.
“Rhys,” Tanner said.
The single utterance had an immediate calming effect on Rhys. There was a strength in Tanner’s voice that edged his concern and Rhys stopped pacing the floor. Although he knew there was nothing either Tanner or Alexis could do, they would listen, and for now that was enough. His hope for a chance at the truth still rested with the Lescauts. And so he told them everything, beginning with events leading up to the death of Robert Dunne. He sparing himself nothing, relating Kenna’s threat to leave him if he could not single out the one person responsible for all that had happened.
When he finished speaking there was a heavy silence in the room. Rhys reached in his pocket for the guest list and handed it to Madeline. Etienne edged closer to his wife to see the paper. “If you could remember anything—anything at all—that would help me, I would forever be in your debt.”
Madeline waved Rhys’s statement aside. “Nonsense,” she said briskly. “Sit over there, Rhys.” She pointed to the empty space on the sofa beside Alexis. “I cannot think while you hover.”
Rhys sat down but could not completely relax. He sat on the edge of a cushion, leaning forward and saying nothing when Alexis poured him another two fingers of whisky. Madeline and Etienne went through the list, commenting on names they recognized, people they knew, and whenever possible, the manner in which they were dressed one evening ten years earlier. When they encountered Michael’s name, they both registered surprise. They sighed, agreeing with Rhys that Michael’s presence would have been helpful, acknowledging his eye and his memory were superior to their own. In the end they could tell him nothing.
“I’m so sorry, Rhys,” Madeline said. “I wanted very much to be able to help you. That night…oh, but it wastrès horrible, n’est-ce pas?So much confusion. Some things I recall so clearly, but others, not at all.”
“It is much the same with me,” Etienne said heavily. “In truth, Rhys, I had no knowledge of your presence at the masque until you caused such a stir carrying Kenna into the house. I did not recognize Nicholas before he pushed back his hood and announced his father’s death. I could not imagine how Michael could be of help to you until I saw his name on the list. I do not even recall that he was there that night. He certainly never spoke to me.”
“Nor me,” said Madeline.
“You mean none of you spoke of the circumstances of Lord Dunne’s death after seeing Kenna again?” That seemed odd to Rhys. He would have thought, human nature being what it was, that they would have talked among themselves.
“Etienne and I discussed it privately. But Michael said nothing about it.” Her eyes traveled from Rhys to Alexis and Tanner. “Did he mention anything to you?”
