Then Comes Murder

Accusations and Alibis (part two)

But, as it turned out, Lady Eleanor did not need to be woken. As she was sharing a room with his sister, the widowed Lady Blakemore, Marcus had offered to fetch them.

"Margaret will hardly let Lady Eleanor go alone," he said in exasperated explanation.

"You're quite right." Margaret's voice cut through the fresh murmuring that had erupted with the idea of two women being brought into the investigation. "The maid's already informed us of the situation. It's hardly an appropriate thing, asking a woman to examine the body of a murdered man."

Marcus muttered something about the impropriety of listening at doors, but his sister silenced him with an evil look. She entered the room with an easy confidence, as if she'd been invited to join the investigation from the beginning. Nora stood a step behind her, half hidden in the shadowed hall. Jacob had tried to meet her gaze casually, but the woman did not seem to notice he was there. She did not seem to notice anyone was there. Dressed in a plain dress, her hair still damp, Nora was lost in thought. He watched the tiny wrinkle in her brow, the way her lips pursed. It was as if gears and cogs were already twisting and clinking behind those cloudy gray eyes.

"We've not yet reached that conclusion." George paused and softened. "Nora," he said. She started at her name. Her eyes met his brother's. "Do you think you'll be able to tell if—"

He looked back towards the hearth, frowning. The firelight illuminated his face, deepened the worried wrinkles, and Jacob was struck by how old his brother suddenly looked.

George was unable to finish the question. He did not need to finish. Everyone heard what was left unsaid.

If my father was murdered?

Nora nodded slowly. "I'm not formally trained," she said. "But I know what to look for, in theory. Shall we go now?"

"But she might be the murderer! She disappeared after dinner, didn't she?" Alton protested, standing. It inspired a few murmurs of irritable agreement.

Margaret laughed mockingly. With a vicious smile, she turned on the man. "She's been upstairs with me since you spilled wine across her lap! Trust a fool to forget his own foolishness!"

"My dear lady—"

Alton's offended cry was interrupted. George, bathed in black fury, had taken a single step in the indignant man's direction. Alton swallowed his tongue and sank back to his seat, determined to not meet the dark gaze of his short-tempered host. From his clenched hands to his taut jaw, it was painfully obvious that George was in no mood for patience. The fragile control he'd gained over the room was fraying.

Nora, still closest to the door, did not pay any attention to the men. Instead, she frowned at Margaret. Jacob frowned too. Had Nora already told her friend about their meeting in the garden? He couldn't imagine it so: Margaret was Nora's staunchest advocate for finding a husband, wasn't she? And the woman had grown up with him. She knew exactly the sort of things to say that would make him feel guilty and honorable and stupid enough to place a ring on Nora's finger.

Unless, he reasoned, she has no interest in you. Unless there is someone else.

Jacob glanced at Marcus. The man was also watching Nora, his eyes cast in worried shadow. A bolt of jealousy twisted Jacob's stomach. He could have laughed: half the room imagined him a murderer, and he was more concerned with who Nora fancied. Hell and the Devil, he was a bigger fool than Alton and Cooper combined.

George cleared his throat. "Lady Eleanor, Lady Blakemore, and I will go upstairs, and—"

He was not able to finish. Another cry of suspicion rang out. Charlie demanded to be included. Maxwell suggested an impartial witness be present in the duke's chambers. Cooper argued about the validity of an unofficial examination. Alton, though his face purpled with the effort, was silent next to him. Marcus and Margaret bickered over manners and whether or not they mattered in such dire instances.