Perhaps there is a spark of hope,thought Wrexford.
“Then stop throwing sand in our eyes, Nicky.” Grabbing a chair from the table, Charlotte turned it to face him and took a seat. “No more half-truths and prevarications.”
“I didn’t—” began Nicholas.
“Westmorly,” cut in Wrexford. “You neglected to tell us you owed gambling debts to Westmorly.”
“Because it had nothing to do with Cedric!”
“You really think the fact that your brother paid off your vowels is irrelevant?” demanded Charlotte.
The color drained from Locke’s face. “Cedric paid them? I—I had no idea!”
Unless he was a consummate actor, Locke’s surprise appeared unfeigned. But then, a cold-blooded killer would be skilled at hiding his true self.
“Why?” added Locke, looking truly puzzled. “Why would he do that? I have a generous allowance.”
“You tell me,” she countered. “Word is, when Westmorly paid off his debt, Cedric asked to take your vowels as partial payment, and Westmorly was happy to comply.”
Locke did naught but lift his shoulders in reply.
“You implied there was friction between them, and yet witnesses said the two of them were quite cordial,” said Wrexford.
“I wasn’t lying,” said Locke hotly. “I don’t care what the gamesters might have seen. There was some sort of bad blood between Westmorly and Cedric.”
Charlotte leaned forward. “Just how much didyouowe Westmorly, Nicky?” she asked abruptly.
Locke’s gaze slid away to a clump of dirty straw on the floor.
Her expression hardened.
Wrexford shrugged as she darted a quick look at him. “Never mind that right now. The more pressing concern is the Eos Society and their activities.”
Every muscle in Locke’s body seemed to tense. Save for a tiny tic at the right corner of his mouth.
“Your little group does more than just talk, don’t it?” went on the earl. “Given your inquisitive scientific minds, I would imagine you engage in experiments.”
“Sometimes,” came the wary reply.
Charlotte rose, setting the rancid shadows pooled on the floor to rippling across the rough stone. Locke’s breathing turned shallow, as if he were panting for air.
A step brought her closer to him.
Twitch, twitch.The quivering grew more pronounced.
“You’re no better now than you were as a child at keeping your face from giving you away, Nicky,” she observed.
A deeply feral sound—it reminded Wrexford of a wounded animal—stuck in Locke’s throat.
Her fingers spasmed. For an instant, the earl thought she might strike her cousin.
“I had a look at your brother’s body,” said the earl. “What dark games was he playing?”
It took a moment for Locke to master his emotions enough to speak “That’s just it.” His anguish was sharp as the shattering of glass. “I don’t know!”
He looked up at Charlotte. “Some things about us don’t change from childhood, Charley. But others do. Everyone, including you, saw Cedric as the paragon of a perfect gentleman—all glittering, golden sunshine against a celestial blue sky. But a change came over him when we came to London. He became more . . .”
“What?” prompted Charlotte.
