“Ah, Clovis, yes.” He turned to Greta. “I must apologize, baroness, matters are demanding my attention, yet again. Shall we continue this interesting conversation in the evening?”
“Certainly, Your Grace.” She smiled and walked to the door. “And please don’t concern yourself about me. Your cousin, Mr. Forsythe, has invited me to walk in the gardens with him.”
Andrew stared abstractedly as the door closed behind her as Clovis spoke. “I’ve checked the gun room, Your Grace,” he said. “Nothing missing, and no guns have been fired recently.”
“You are certain of that, Clovis.”
“Yes, Your Grace.”
Andrew frowned. “It’s a puzzle, then, Clovis.”
“It is, Your Grace. I’ll ride into the village, ask around.”
“Good.”
Something that had at first seemed like an appalling accident now had taken on a rather more sinister appearance.
