At least he was fairly sure the key in his pocket, taken from Edward’s, would fit snugly into the lock of the summer house door.
He was wrong.
It didn’t fit at all.And the door was indeed locked.He was reduced to peering through the windows to see what lay beyond.A few chairs made of fake bamboo, a table to match, and several bright, comfortable cushions.No disorder that he could see.No signs of a recent assignation or a fight.No obvious blood stains or clothing left behind, though he would have liked a closer look.
Emerging from the wooden porch, he looked about him to see if Edward could have had a different destination in mind.It didn’t seem likely.There were fields in cultivation but only a couple of cottages in the distance.With his useful quizzing glass, Piers ascertained that the cottages looked to be occupied and cared for, each with a little garden.On one side was woodland, no doubt for keeping game.The village was in the other direction altogether.Which didn’t mean someone had not come from there.
But there was no obvious trail beyond the summer house.There was no path, and no sign that anyone had gone further last night or at any recent time.
Having completed a circle around the summer house, Piers walked back the way he had come until he came to the scene of the attack.He imagined hurling a stout club in the direction of the wood and followed his vision to the edge of the trees.Discovering a stout fallen branch—completely un-bloodied—he carried it back to the attack area and experimented with throwing it in various directions.
Following each throw, he came upon no blood-stained weapon.It was hardly scientific and would need a much more thorough search to be sure.But if someone had attacked Edward—and it did seem likely to Piers—he doubted the assailant had panicked and hurled the weapon from him.
Although he could have taken it with him.
He walked back to the house, mulling it all over, entered by the front door, and went up to his bedchamber to change out of his boots and wash his hands.He was glad to find the water was warm now.Longing for coffee, he pulled the bell and a few minutes later, the smaller of the original maids appeared bearing a tea tray with a pot and two cups and saucers.Tea being better than nothing, he thanked her.
Before she could leave again, he said, “Do you know what happened to Edward?”
“I know he’s hurt and not moving.”
Piers, who had expected tears or denial was somewhat surprised by her manner.“Who do you think might have hurt him?”
Her eyes widened, “No one, my lord!Didn’t he fall?”
“I expect he’ll tell us when he wakes.When did you see him last?”
“About ten last night when me and Becky went upstairs.”
“Where were Mrs.Riley and Edward?”
“She was finishing her tea.She likes to make sure we’re gone before she goes up.Edward went to lock all the doors.”
“I suppose that was his job, in the absence of a butler or first footman.”
“Yes, my lord.”
“Did you hear Edward go out again?”
There was a certain defiance in her look.“No, my lord.His quarters is on the other side of the house.”
“Can you think of any reason he would go out at two o’clock in the morning?”
Her chin went up.“Probably some village girl no better than she should be.He noticed females, did Edward.”
Did Edward, notDoes Edward.“Is that why Lady Temperley left him behind when the family went to London?”
“It weren’t no punishment, my lord,” Peggy said stiffly.“Some of us had to stay behind.”
He didn’t mention that they wereallmeant to stay behind, though it might be something to ask Mrs.Riley.If she would tell.
“Thank you, Peggy,” he said dismissively and took the tea tray through to April’s room.
April was sitting up in bed again, eating what looked like one of Mrs.Drake’s apple biscuits from Haybury Court.Catching sight of Piers, she paused mid-chew and looked so guilty that he laughed.
“They helped when I felt sick in the mornings,” she confided.“Now they’re just habit.There’s a couple left if you’d like one.”
“I’m saving myself for breakfast,” he assured her, and was rewarded by a dazzling April smile.
