Chapter Twenty-Two
“Stabbed?” Sadie gapedat the constable. “But we didn’t stab him.” She looked about the room feeling as if nothing here was real. She stood with Iseabail facing the constable and two watchmen. Mairi and the countess were here as well, but these rough men didn’t seem to have any interest in listening to a bunch of women.
The squat, ugly constable frowned at them. “You are Scottish, are you not?”
“I am.”
“Do you own Scottish knives?”
“Of course, I do. Bloody mad to not have one up in the moors.”
“A knife was left by the body. It was a Scottish dirk. One that would be used by a lady.”
“Doesn’t mean it was mine!” Sadie exclaimed. “And we didn’t stab him.”
“And you certainly didn’t bring any knife to the ball,” stated the countess.
“We hit him with a tree branch,” Iseabail said.
Sadie turned on her friend. If anyone was going to pay for whatever had happened, it would be her, not Iseabail. She’d dragged the girl unwittingly into her escapade. “Ihit him with the tree branch. You punched him.” She turned back to the constable. “And neither of us stabbed him!”
Mairi stepped forward. “Wasn’t there another man there?”
“Mr. Preston Barrett,” Sadie offered.
“Yes. Ask him. He’ll—”
“Mr. Barrett is the witness against you. He said you stabbed Mr. Carr viciously with a horrible Scottish scream.”
“A scream?” The countess cried. “At a ball? Don’t you think other people would have heard?”
The constable folded his arms in irritation. “It was in the neighboring yard. Apparently, the orchestra was very loud.”
“It was no such thing!” the countess snapped. “To think that you dare come to my house and accuse my young proteges of…ofmurder?” She shuddered as she said the word. “Look at them. They are young girls. They could no more murder a man than I could climb up the side of Big Ben.”
The watchman to the left of the constable arched brows over his craggy face. “They look plenty strong to me. Bet they both carved up stags and the like for dinner, yeah? Little difference between cutting up an animal and a man. If’n a woman were pressed, and she didn’t like it, she might stab a man. Several times, in fact.”
“I might,” Sadie said, her voice clipped. “But I didn’t. Much easier to hit him in the head and walk away. Which is what I did.”
Iseabail took hold of Sadie’s arm. “Whatwedid.”
“Nevertheless,” the constable said. “I’ve got my orders. You’ll both be coming with me.” He gestured to the watchmen who advanced menacingly.
Mairi stepped in front of them, but Sadie pushed her aside. She could defend herself. Except, apparently, she could not in this case. These three men had the law on their side. But when the watchmen each held up a pair of shackles, the horror of the moment hit her broadside. She was going to be set in irons?
“No,” she whispered. Then more loudly. “Absolutely not! I did not kill Mr. Carr!”
The watchman opposite her grinned. “We can put ’em on you easy or I can put you on the floor, and I won’t be gentle about it. We’re in the light o’ day now, Billy Bitch, an—”
“What did you just say?” A loud male voice cut through the room.
All three men straightened up at the inherent authority in the voice. The women did, too, though with less trepidation. For them, he was someone outraged on their behalf. Or at least so he appeared as he strode into the room.
“An’ who are you,” the constable sneered, “to interfere with the law?”
“I’m Lord Heath, and I’ve just come from Carlton House to save you from a huge mistake.”
If they’d straightened at his tone, it was nothing compared to what the watchmen did at the mention of Carlton House. They snapped to attention so fast that their spines cracked, and no wonder. This man was an intimate of the Prince Regent, and only a fool would contradict him now. And yet, apparently, the constable was a fool.
