THE SUMMER HOUSE SMELLEDa little musty and airless.Piers left the door open as he entered and looked about him.He was not sure what he sought—something that should not be there, something, anything, that seemed wrong or out of place.
Just as from the window, there was nothing obvious.No hidden bed recess, no abandoned clothing or jewellery, no wash basin.Nor any bloodied clothes or weapons.He looked under furniture and opened a chest that seemed to be no more than decoration.
Frowning, he straightened and saw April lifting cushions and looking behind them.She lifted one to her nose and sniffed.A grimace twisted her face.
“Someone has trysted here.On the cushions.”
She had always been an odd mixture of old knowledge and innocence.
“It wasn’t Edward,” Piers said.“Or at least not last night.If the footprints on the path are his, he never got this far.But someone did, walking on the grass, whether they came in or not.”
“Then this person left again, met Edward on the path, and struck him hard enough to kill him?Why?Just because he was late?”
“Hardly.Someone had reached the end of their tether and lashed out.”
“Or someone was defending themselves the only way they could from rape?He does seem an entitled b—”
“I saw no signs of a struggle on him,” Piers interrupted.“No scratches or bruises beyond the one on his head.I think he was ambushed or at least taken by surprise.”
“Perhaps by someone who hadn’t expected to see him there either and was furious when he did?”She shook her head.“We’re missing something, Piers.Something bizarre is going on in that house.Lady Temperley broke our agreement and took nearly all her servants with her, leaving only a couple of grooms, and four indoor servants including the cook.More than enough to look after a couple of people or a small household, but not...”
She trailed off, turning slowly back to Piers.“Noises in the night.Servants up late.Edward creeping about the maids’ quarters where he has no business to be, without any of them knowing or seeming very troubled by it.Piers, I have an idea.”
“Excellent,” Piers said, following her as she bolted for the door.By the time he had locked it behind them, April was some distance away, hurrying back the way they had come.He caught up with her, catching her arm.“No rushing.”
She slowed, casting him a guilty glance.Sometimes she forgot her condition.He hoped that was a healthy sign.She certainly seemed to be radiant, rosy-cheeked, and beautiful.And purposeful.
God, I love you...
She followed the path around to the side door of the house that was always locked and took out the key from Edward’s pocket which did not open the summer house.It slid into this lock easily and turned.
April’s eyes gleamed up at him.
He understood.“Now, we are definitely justified,” he agreed, reaching past her to turn the handle.
The went in together and Piers closed the door.There were strong bolts on the door, though they hadn’t been shot, no doubt because...
“Eward left the house by this door,” he murmured.“And locked it behind him.That’s why he had the key.And no one has bolted it since.”
“If this is where the Temperleys stored their private treasures, the servants probably weren’t allowed in here.Edward would have gone anyway, because he was Edward and did what he liked.”
“Maybe,” said Piers, who felt there was more to it than that.
“Is this his trysting place?”she wondered.
“Then why go to the summer house?”There were a couple of large rooms on the ground floor, with the furniture under Holland covers.They clearly had not been used for some time.After the briefest glance, Piers headed up the staircase.
It creaked somewhat eerily, an atmosphere fostered by the gloom and the silence.The landing creaked too, for the boards were uncovered by carpet.The passage led to a pair of doors.
“The locked doors on the first floor of the main part of the house,” April whispered.“But why?”
As she spoke, she opened the door on her right and walked in.A large object flew straight at her head.
