“I can’t make any promises. If you’re cleared of any wrongdoing, then yes.” Nathaniel jerked his head toward the door. “We’ll escort you to the police station.”
Several hours later, he and Hugh left Mallory with the constable. Having spilled all he said he knew, Mallory demanded to be allowed to go about hisbusiness.
“Not a bad day’s work,” Hughsaid.
“Good that we now have the name of the scoundrel running it from London,” Nathaniel said. “Let’s hope next time the local lads will think twice before they get caught up in it.”
“Once their mates hang.” Hugh glanced at Nathaniel. “Mallory lies with ease; he’s in this up to his neck.”
“Then it won’t go so well for him, will it?” It was good to hear Hugh thought the same. That Nathaniel’s low opinion of Mallory did not color hisjudgement.
“He’s acted to save his own skin. And it’s not the first time.”
It chilled Nathaniel to admit it, but if Mallory had stayed around after Amanda died, he would have taken matters into his own hands and beaten him within an inch of his life. But then Mallory was gone and it was too late. Time had the advantage of him dealing with this with a coolerhead.
“Want to tell me about it, Your Lordship?” Hugh asked with a sidewaysglance.
“I don’t think so, Hugh,” Nathaniel replied, aware he’d fallen into a grim silence. “But I’ll buy you an ale.”
***
After lunch, Laura walked over to Cilla’s cottage to invite her to Nathaniel’s birthday dinner.
Cilla was dressed in her painter’s smock. There was a smudge of red paint on her fingers, and the smell of oil paint and turpentine wafted through the rooms. In her studio nook, a painting rested on the easel, covered with acloth.
“May I see it?” Lauraasked.
“I never reveal my work until it’s completed,” Cilla said, her smile lackinghumor.
“Very well.” She smiled at the older woman, pleased to see her. Cilla was capable of extravagant and flamboyant gestures. But right now, she was the closest thing to a friend Laura had in this part of the world. “A landscape or a portrait?”
Cilla shook her head. “Youareimpatient. Care for tea?”
“No, thank you. I came with an invitation.” Laura explained about the dinner as they sat together on thesofa.
“Nathaniel’s birthday. He will enjoy that.”
Laura grimaced. “I hope so. I don’t know many people here yet, apart from you and another couple Nathaniel has invited. There’s also the vicar and his wife and the Thrompton ladies. I think Nathaniel will invite Hugh Pitney as well. You will come?”
“Of course I shall. You can’t have odd numbers at the table.”
Laura eyed her, wondering if Cilla was being serious. “Nathaniel doesn’t seem to welcome a fuss. Perhaps it’s due to his childhood. His mother died while he was away at school. I don’t suppose you remember her.”
“Vaguely. She was a pretty woman. Seldom here—caught up in social affairs. I doubt Nathaniel saw much of her.”
“Even so, a boy would be sad to lose his mother so young.”
Cilla tilted her head. “I dare say.”
Laura realized her motives were painfully transparent and her need to understand her husband far too obvious. “Theo Mallory has returned to Wolfram. Did you know?”
“I heard. Nothing much happens in Wolfram Village without everyone knowing.”
Except for how a young mother-to-be could plunge to her death over a cliff. “Why did Mallory leave his position here, do you know?”
“Nathaniel probably fired him. If he did, he had good reason.”
“He would never be unfair. He’s a stickler for correctness.” Except in the bedchamber, she thought with a rush of remembering. She rose and walked around the room, bending to smell lilies in a vase on thetable.
