“Bold of them, to have that Trenholm woman make her sick. It is good you realized he would not go up those exterior stairs after all.”
Ives counted it as a close call. Had he not fathomed Crippin’s plan, Strickland and Lance would have been deep in the garden when the servant came for Padua, and not waiting at the top of the stairs. He had needed Strickland to hear what transpired. He needed a witness other than Padua and himself.
“Here she comes,” Gareth said, looking to the stairs. Padua was walking down. “Take her out to the garden. I will inform them that you are there, if anyone looks for either of you.”
“Tell Strickland to find me before he leaves.”
***
Ives guided Padua into the garden. No one remained in it now. She had watched a good deal of confusion out there earlier, as constables poked into shrubbery and dragged a big box out of the carriage house.
They sat on a stone bench up against some boxwood. Ives removed his frock coat and set it around her shoulders.
“Did they find everything?” she asked.
“It was all still here. I thought to remove it, but decided it would be easier to remove you. Alas, you proved almost unmovable.” He embraced her with one arm. “Is Mrs. Lavender out of harm’s way?”
“The physician thinks so. It might have been tragic. Poisons are not to be used carelessly. Emily could have easily put enough in the food to kill her, not incapacitate her.”
“You know about such things, do you?”
“It is just chemistry.”
She laid her head against his shoulder. She had calmed, but it would be some time before she knew real peace. “What will happen now?”
“There are men inside the house who want nothing more than to have all of this disappear. They will do anything to keep the truth about Crippin quiet.”
“Can they do that?”
“If they want it. The constables will be sworn to secrecy. Hector and Mrs. Lavender and the ladies will be threatened. Crippin will be offered the noose or exile. Emily Trenholm will receive a similar choice. Should Hadrian Belvoir even go to trial, which would surprise me, since if he does it will all come out, he will be adjudged a victim of his own befuddled confusion.”
“My father is neither befuddled nor confused.”
“No, he is not. However, he will be free, Padua. It is not an outcome to be quibbled over.”
She hung on his words with hope. Would it all end this way? Could it? “What if those men do not do any of this? What if they decide to send everyone to prison or the gallows?”
“Then that is bad news for Crippin and Mrs. Trenholm.”
“And my father?”
“He will fare the best. I am told he has an excellent prosecutor who will ensure justice is done.”
“You think too highly of your colleagues, I fear. You cannot be sure that this man will arrange it so justice is done.”
“I can be very sure, since I am the prosecutor.”
She sat up and turned to him. “I thought you withdrew.”
“It appears I neglected to post the letters.”
“When did you decide this?”
“After I spoke with him. I saw he was the worst kind of defendant for a prosecutor. He is incapable of dissembling. He exudes honesty and a childlike innocence. Also he shows just enough befuddlement to appear incapable of knowingly committing a crime. A jury would love him. If he spoke for himself, my histrionics would have at best even odds of gaining the conviction. As it is, my position as prosecutor is influencing events right now. Strickland is telling them I can never be convinced to leave out half the story.”
She took his hand and kissed it. “Thank you. Another might have been so convinced.” It could not have been easy for him to decide this. His sense of honor must have rebelled. He probably still wondered if she planned it so he might indeed do less than his best.
He pulled her back into his arms. “He told me something else that day, Padua. I think you should know what he said about you.”
