Part 10 (1/2)
”The likely conclusion would have been accident.” She sighed. ”But enough of this speculation. The idea is ridiculous. The attack had to have occurred in the forest, for you were already unconscious when you emerged from the trees. He made no attempt to panic the horses, so he cannot have expected them to continue all the way to the quarry.”
”Perhaps.” He sounded skeptical.
”A few questions would hardly pressure the killer into striking again. Surely he would wait until you actually learned something.”
”Unless he has more to fear than John's death.”
”Or unless you made an enemy of your own without realizing it. Did you meet anyone from here in London or elsewhere. Sir Richard is often in the city.”
”No.”
”Had you decided to let any of the servants go before announcing that reprieve?”
”The butler and housekeeper. Both stole freely, but I need to identify John's killer before making changes.”
”You should also investigate why they stole.”
He glared. ”You knew about that?”
”Most people did. Forbes and Mrs. Washburn despised John, for they witnessed much of his venality. The food and supplies they pilfered went to tenants in danger of starvation and servants turned off without a reference.”
”I had no idea.”
”Nor did John, for he visited rarely and never checked the household accounts. Walden dealt only with estate records-he was truly John's servant, carrying out every command to the letter.”
”So that is the real reason you misled Harry. You suspected Forbes of killing John, then turning on me.”
”Don't put words in my mouth. Forbes would be more inclined to circ.u.mvent your orders than to kill you. And if he had been in the woods, I doubt he could have reached the house before me. He doesn't ride. The gig he uses could not have covered the long route around the hill in time. And he is getting on in years, so could never have run that fast.”
”How did you stop the horses?” he asked abruptly.
”Caught the ribbon controlling the wheeler. Your team is well-trained.”
”That cannot have been easy. How fast were they traveling?”
”Panicked,” she admitted with a s.h.i.+ver. ”Which was mostly my own fault. They objected to being chased.”
”Were the ribbons still in my hand?” She shook her head.
”Look at me, Mary.”
Compliance sent fire along every nerve. He was radiating that intense masculinity that alternately fascinated and terrified her. She had to hide her reaction, or he would take advantage of her. ”How did you do it?”
”I had to.” She managed a negligent shrug.
He shook his head. ”Few people could have. You have my eternal grat.i.tude for saving my life. But one point puzzles me.”
Only one? She must be under better control than she thought.
He ran his fingers through his hair. ”Why did you suspect murder the moment you found me?”
”It wasn't quite that soon. I had no time to consider how you had fallen into that predicament until after I stopped the team. That was when I found the rock.”
”But why suspect murder rather than a prank?”
”My husband died there.”
”By accident, you claimed.”
”Yes. He had been drinking heavily, and probably fell from his horse-he was a poor rider even when sober-then stumbled off the road in a daze. If you had died, the conclusion would have been the same, though some might have wondered how a sober man could slip on a sunny afternoon. But the incidents were too similar. If someone wanted to kill you, Frederick's accident gave him a perfect plan. No one takes the long route to Ridgeway from town, so an attacker would expect you to pa.s.s that point. Everyone knows how dangerous that road is, but you might have forgotten during your absence. By the way, we all hope you will consider moving it to the other side of the hill,” she added.
He nodded, but absently. ”Are you sure your husband's death was an accident?”
”Of course.” But she could feel her face paling; ”Who would want to kill Frederick?”
”Who knows? He and John ran many joint ventures. I find it suspicious that they are both dead.”
She shook her head. ”His only connection is that someone used his fall as a model.”
”But he died, so why do you insist that my attacker was issuing a warning?”
She gave up sitting quietly behind the desk. She hadn't expected his insistence. Thinking was easier if she paced the room. ”There are too many questions and even more contradictions,” she said at last. ”No one has a reason to kill you, at least not until your investigation shows some progress.” She looked at him.
”I've learned nothing except that John lied more often than I had believed.”
Nodding, she resumed her rambles. ”Unless this was another attack like Will's-which means any resemblance to Frederick's accident is coincidental-I have to believe it was meant as a warning. Yes, it could have resulted in death, but that was far from likely when the rock was thrown.”
James fingered the bandage again. ”I still think Northrup's death is suspicious. Are you sure that no evidence points that way?”
”Not that I know of-and I have been asking questions about his last days, hoping to learn something that might explain John's murder.”
”Any luck?” She shook her head.
”How about tenants and servants? Obviously, your staff hated John.”
She grimaced at the reminder, resuming her seat. ”True, and I did wonder if Wilson might have taken revenge for the damage to his farm, but he was cutting hay all afternoon yesterday, in company with half a dozen others, including Justin. As to Frederick, he was mostly an object of ridicule. He was a wastrel, and could be quite unpleasant when in his cups, but he generally ignored underlings.”
”Yet one of them might have sought his death-just as Will sought mine.”
”Why bother? He was rarely here. I ran the estate without his interference-which everyone knew.”
”I still think he was murdered.”
”I don't, though I will concede that it was possible. If someone had been determined to attack him, finding him would have been easy. Everyone in the taproom knew he was headed for Ridgeway that night.”
”If you turn up any evidence, will you tell the squire? After all, your husband was nearly as unscrupulous as my brother.”