“I think it was his leg, but I never saw any sign of it. He didn’t have a limp at all and the weather never affected it.”
Mira frowned. “That’s odd.”
“That’s Silas for you.”
“Has your family had anything stolen before this?”
“Not that I know of,” Theresia said. “And Silas would have had plenty of opportunity. It’s strange that he waited until the party to do it, when he could have done it any time he wanted.”
“Yes, he was staying with you, wasn’t he?”
Theresia sighed. “Unfortunately. It happens every year. We come to Bath, father wants hunting companions, and inevitably they want to court me.”
Mira pulled a strand of hay out of the bale and wrapped it around her finger. “You said there was at least one suitor you liked.”
“Just one. And he isn’t even a proper suitor, so it doesn’t matter.” She stood. “Thank you for the flowers, although I really am all right. I’m more worried for poor Maureen.”
“She’s doing better.”
“I’m glad. It’s been positively awful for her, one thing after another. She was so withdrawn when she first came to Bath. I’d just managed to get her to open up to me when Mrs. Callan died.”
“That was her aunt, right?”
“Yes. She was such a kind old sort. A hypochondriac for certain, but I imagine anyone would manifest illnesses to explain away aches and pains when you’re at that age.”
“I had heard that she was frequently ill,” Mira said, brushing the hay from her skirts and following Theresia outside the stables.
“Ill enough she didn’t leave the house. We’d invite her over time and time again, but she never took us up on the offer. Speaking of which, do you think the Sherards are staying for tea?”
“I’m not certain.”
“We’d better go in and see.”
Mira looked out towards the West Ledge. “I’ll catch up in a minute. I think I’d like to get a little exercise in.”
Theresia followed her line of sight. “I’ll leave you to your sleuthing then.” She winked.
They parted ways at the upper juncture and Mira followed the path she had taken away from the body the previous Saturday. It was much easier to navigate without all the snow. When she came to the place where the body had lain, she found Byron coming from the opposite direction.
“I thought you were with your family,” Mira said.
He smiled. “They think I am talking with Mr. Risewell in his study.”
As they spoke, they turned their attention to the steep slope that rose before them. It started out almost at a ninety degree angle at the top, then lessened towards the bottom where they stood. If someone were to fall, one would hit the rocky outcropquickly and then roll down the incline. Even though the snow had melted, it was impossible to tell if Silas had followed that path due to how rocky it was. At the base there were some scrubby grasses and a few scabby bushes.
“How was Miss Risewell?” Byron asked.
“Surprisingly open. I discovered why she hasn’t considered Bertie Corbet as a suitor. I think she’s in love with someone else.”
“Who?”
“I don’t know. She was vague on that point. She just went up to the house,” Mira kicked at one of the bushes with her boot. “By the way, she knows you’re a detective. It seems Bertie Corbet is telling everyone. So much for him keeping a secret.”
Byron sighed dramatically. “That’s the trouble with having a reputation.”
“She’s very impressed with your record,” Mira said. “And she seems entirely oblivious to your memory loss.”
“I don’t advertise that. Nor will I, now that I have such a beautiful memory keeper beside me.”
