Part 7 (1/2)

My lady the Countess D'Evreux was all sadness and unhappiness, but there was neither fear nor evil there. She smiled politely and talked quietly. Father Bright would have been willing to bet that not one of the four of them would remember a word that had been spoken.

Father Bright had placed his chair so that he could keep an eye on the open doorway and the long hall that led in from the Great Keep. He hoped Lord Darcy would hurry. Neither of the guests had been told that the Duke's Investigator was here, and Father Bright was just a little apprehensive about the meeting. The Duncans had not even been told that the Count's death had been murder, but he was certain that they knew.

Father Bright saw Lord Darcy come in through the door at the far end of the hall. He murmured a polite excuse and rose. The other three accepted his excuses with the same politeness and went on with their talk. Father Bright met Lord Darcy in the hall.

”Did you find what you were looking for, Lord Darcy?” the priest asked in a low tone.

”Yes,” Lord Darcy said. ”I'm afraid we shall have to arrest Laird Duncan.”

”Murder?”

”Perhaps. I'm not yet certain of that. But the charge will be black magic. He has all the paraphernalia in a chest in his room. Master Sean reports that a ritual was enacted in the bedroom last night. Of course, that's out of my jurisdiction. You, as a representative of the Church, will have to be the arresting officer.” He paused. ”You don't seem surprised, Reverence.”

”I'm not,” Father Bright admitted. ”I felt it. You and Master Sean will have to make out a sworn deposition before I can act.”

”I understand. Can you do me a favor?”

”If I can.”

”Get my lady the Countess out of the room on some pretext or other.

Leave me alone with her guests. I do not wish to upset my lady any more than absolutely necessary.”

”I think I can do that. Shall we go in together?”

”Why not? But don't mention why I am here. Let them a.s.sume I am just another guest.”

”Very well.”

All three occupants of the room glanced up as Father Bright came in with Lord Darcy. The introductions were made: Lord Darcy humbly begged the pardon of his hostess for his lateness. Father Bright noticed the same sad smile on Lord Darcy's handsome face as the others were wearing.

Lord Darcy helped himself from the buffet table and allowed the Countess to pour him a large cup of hot tea. He mentioned nothing about the recent death. Instead, he turned the conversation toward the wild beauty of Scotland and the excellence of the grouse shooting there.

Father Bright had not sat down again. Instead, he left the room once more. When he returned, he went directly to the Countess and said, in a low, but clearly audible voice: ”My lady, Sir Pierre Morlaix has informed me that there are a few matters that require your attention immediately. It will require only a few moments.”

My lady the Countess did not hesitate, but made her excuses immediately. ”Do finish your tea,” she added. ”I don't think I shall be long.”

Lord Darcy knew the priest would not lie, and he wondered what sort of arrangement had been made with Sir Pierre. Not that it mattered except that Lord Darcy had hoped it would be sufficiently involved for it to keep the Countess busy for at least ten minutes.

The conversation, interrupted but momentarily, returned to grouse.

”I haven't done any shooting since my accident,” said Laird Duncan, ”but I used to enjoy it immensely. I still have friends up every year for the season.”

”What sort of weapon do you prefer for grouse?” Lord Darcy asked.

”A one-inch bore with a modified choke,” said the Scot. ”I have a pair that I favor. Excellent weapons.”

”Of Scottish make?”

”No, no. English. Your London gunsmiths can't be beat for shotguns.”