“I’ve finished up here, so why don’t we begin?”
Laura widened her eyes. “Now?”
“Why not? The light is still good.”
“Very well. Where would you like me to sit?”
Cilla took her arm. “Over by the window.” She studied Laura with a practiced eye. “Your moss green dress is good, if a little plain. We need a touch of color.” She went to her bureau, opened a drawer and returned with a coral necklace she fastened around Laura’sneck.
As Cilla set up her canvas and prepared her palette, Laura glanced in the mirror. She touched the rough, irregular-shaped beads set in gold. They were exactly like the necklace she’d seen in Amanda’s room. “This is pretty. Where did you buy it?”
Cilla turned to look. She frowned. “I can’t remember. A London market most likely.”
“I’ve never seen you wear them.”
“I don’t wear much jewelry.” Cilla began to sketch on the canvas with a sure hand. “I bought them for the color.” She bent her head over her palette, mixing paint. “I admired the coral necklace Amanda used to wear.”
After half an hour of sitting, Laura began to fidget, and Cilla put down her brush. “That’s enough for today.” She carefully arranged a cloth over the painting, ruining any chance of Laura seeingit.
Laura stretched. “I hoped to see what you’ve done. But I shan’t break your rule again.”
Cilla smiled, shaking her head. “You’ve been very patient. May I offer you some tea?”
“Thank you, but it’s grown late. I should go home.”
“Tomorrow then? Once I have the composition right, I work fast. I’ll have this finished in no time.”
Laura smiled. “Tomorrow then.” She envisaged her portrait hanging above the fireplace, somehow making Wolfram feel even more like home toher.
The next afternoon, after sitting for Cilla again, Laura joined Nathaniel in the village. The inquest into Theo Mallory’s death was about to begin. She had insisted she come and held his hand as he pushed through the people crowding around the doorway of the town hall in Penzance. She slid onto a wooden bench beside Cilla. The other seats were soon filled. The rest jostled to find a place or stood at the back of the room. The atmosphere was heavy with expectation, the murmuring hum rising involume.
With a bang of the coroner’s gavel, the voices dropped away. The post mortem was read out. Mallory had died from several severe blows to the head and face from a blunt object. He was dead before he hit the water. A collective gasp traveled around theroom.
It had not been an accident, nor had he taken his own life. Someone had killed him. Laura gazed around at the faces, as shocked whispers filled the hall. Many stared at Nathaniel. He held himself erect on the seat beside her, his stony profile as grim as she’d ever seen him.
Mrs. Madge, Mallory’s mother, took the stand dressed in a black gown. She pushed back her shoulders and raised her chin. “My son returned to Wolfram to put a stop to those who’ve discredited the family name.” She stared around the room, her eyesdefiant.
Florrie Havers, who was well known to the sailors around the dock and the inns, came to her feet. “Pity you didn’t ask him where he got ’is money. Theo gave me a bottle of port and some tobacco for a tumble, ’e did.” She laughed, a hand on her wide hip. “But I would have done it for nothing.”
Mrs. Madge moved faster than Laura would have thought her capable. She was across the room and had a good grasp of Florrie’s hair before anyone could stop her. The hall erupted with people shouting, as the two women were pulled apart. Mrs. Madge still clutched Florrie’s curly hairpiece in her hand as they led heraway.
A man dragged Florrie screaming and cursing out the door. The low rumble ceased as the room settled down again, everyone leaning forward expectantly.
The facts emerged. A witness, fisherman Bill Murphy, told how he’d seen Mallory with Will Throsby, the under groom from the abbey. Heads swiveled to look at Nathaniel, as Murphy described how on the night Theo disappeared Bill was returning a mended fishing net to his boat. He saw the two men arguing heatedly near theseawall.
Throsby was then brought into the room from his jail cell where he’d languished on a charge of smuggling. His face was pinched and he fidgeted, turning his hat around in his hand. Under hard questioning, he broke down and confessed he’d been told to kill Mallory. If he hadn’t done it, he’d be the one lying dead. He’d hit Mallory with an oar several times, then pushed his body into the water. When asked to explain why, he grew angry. “Mallory lied. Swore to us that ’e and Lady Amanda would protect us should anything go wrong. They were thick as thieves. And then ’e gave us up to the police.”
There was an uproar in the room. The gavel came down several times before it quietedagain.
“Who gave you the order to kill Mallory?” the coronerasked.
“I don’t know ’is name,” Will said. “Never saw ’im before. Came from up north. Said if I didn’t do it, me Ma and little sister would be tossed into the sea.” He sniffed and wiped his nose with the back of hishand.
“Did your employer, Lord Lanyon, know of this?” The coronerasked.
“’Is lordship knew naught about any of it. We used ’is land is all. While ’e was gone to London.” Will pointed at Nathaniel. “I feel bad about that, Yer Lordship. You was always good to me.”
“Then why in God’s name didn’t he come to me for help?” Nathaniel murmured with a sad shake of hishead.
