“Finding corpses. Detective work. You’ve done enough of it by now, I shouldn’t wonder.”
Her anger sprung to the surface, outweighing every other emotion. “Yes, well, I still have some proper feeling. Unlike—” she stopped herself before saying anything she would regret.
Castel was unaffected. “My sister, I presume?”
Mira averted her gaze.
“Wood isn’t the best at dampening shrill voices,” he continued. “I heard the end of what she was saying about you.”
Mira stood, not wanting to hear another round of abuse. “Thank you for your help. I was actually coming down to see if the police had arrived. They’ll want my statement.”
“She’s wrong, you know,” Castel said as she reached the door.
Mira froze.
“Byron isn’t one to do something merely out of a sense of duty. If he was, then he wouldn’t have started up this detective business in the first place.”
There he was, disparaging his brother once again, after everything Byron had done to prove himself. She clenched her fists and turned, but he spoke before she could.
“That isn’t to say he doesn’t do anything out of duty. But when it comes to tradition for tradition’s sake...” he clicked his tongue, moving over to the bookshelf. “He tends to make his own path. Much like you.”
Her brow furrowed. His tone was almost kind. Completely different than the usual cold, clipped conversation she had come to expect from him and the rest of Byron’s family.
“Mr. Sherard, that almost sounded as if you approve of me.”
Castel’s mouth ticked up. “From what I know about you, Miss Blayse, I don’t think you need anyone’s approval.” He took a book from the shelf and settled in one of the armchairs. “I do believe that Byron is in the sitting room, if you wanted to find him.”
She paused a moment more on the threshold. “You called him Byron.”
“I have many times before now.” His gaze flicked up to hers. “Is it so surprising to call one’s kin by their first name, Mira?”
She smiled and stepped back towards the door. “I suppose not, Castel.”
“Good. Now, weren’t you going to go do some investigating?”
She left him there, gently closing the door to the library behind her. Though her emotions were still swirling within her, she found that the shaking had finally subsided.
***
When she came to the sitting room,Mira found mostof the original occupants still there. The notable exceptions were Maureen and Liza, who Mira assumed had left to find a quiet room for consolation. Mr. and Mrs. Risewell, Dr. Turpin, Bertie Corbet, and Walker had rejoined the group. A tall man in a tweed suit stood in the midst of them with a police constable in blue. Mrs. Sherard and Mary were sitting in their own little corner, and Mira’s stomach twisted remembering their earlier conversation.
Byron made his way through the crowded room to her. “How are you feeling?”
“Much better, thank you.”
He nodded and turned, gesturing to the unknown man in tweed and the constable. “This is Inspector Rutledge and Constable McGuire of the Bath City Police. Inspector, this is Miss Samira Blayse.”
“How do you do?” The inspector inclined his head. “I understand you were the one to discover the body?”
“Yes.”
“In that case, I’m afraid I have a few questions.”
“I’ll try my best to answer them.”
Rutledge looked around the room, then stepped to the side. “Why don’t we move to the parlor?”
She followed him and the constable down the hall. The inspector gestured for her to take a seat. McGuire pulled out a notebook as the interview commenced. After the general questions of what she was doing in Bath and how she knew the Risewells, the inspector moved onto the meat of the business.
