Page 73 of Who Cries for the Lost

Aloud, he said, “I still don’t understand what makes you think Sibil had Astrid killed. Why would she?”

“I told you! Because Astrid was that mad at Sibil for killing Sedgewick, and she said she was gonna tell you.”

“You mean, she was going to tell me she thought Sibil had Sedgewick murdered?”

Rowena nodded. “And tell you that he was there right before he was killed.”

“You saw him that night?”

“Yes.”

“Did you see him leave?”

“Yes.” She frowned. “Why?”

“What time was it?”

“When he left? I dunno. Maybe somewhere around eight or half past?” Rowena looked from Sebastian to Hero and back again. “Are you gonna help me or not?”

“Precisely what is it you want us to do?”

“Hide me from Sibil and Gabriel!”

“Who knows you’re here?”

“Nobody! I slipped out this mornin’ before Sibil was up and while the streets were all deserted. Ain’t nobody followed me here. I’m sure of it.”

Again Sebastian and Hero exchanged glances. He said, “I know a hotel where you can stay for now. But you mustn’t leave your room or contact anyone you know. Do you understand?”

Rowena nodded, her eyes wide with the terror of a woman who’d long ago come to realize that her life was of value only to herself.

Jarvis was still in his dressing room when Grisham—both his dignity and his profound disapproval of his master’s son-in-law now thoroughly restored—showed Sebastian up to his lordship.

“I assume this is important,” said Jarvis, still in his shirtsleeves. He glanced over at his valet. “Leave us.”

Sebastian waited until the man had gone, then said, “You knew the woman who called herself Astrid Wilde?”

Jarvis reached for one of the cravats left by his valet and began to wrap the length of linen around his neck. “Not personally, no.”

“But you knew she worked for the Bourbons.”

“Technically I believe she worked for Sibil Wilde.”

“And Sibil Wilde works for the Bourbons.” Sebastian watched the King’s cousin set about the important task of tying his cravat. “I’ve just spoken to someone who has very good reason to believe Astrid was killed because she knew Sibil Wilde was behind Sedgewick’s death.”

Jarvis kept his attention on his reflection in the mirror. “Now, that I don’t believe. Why would the Bourbons—or, more specifically, Sibil Wilde—want to kill Sedgewick?”

“Perhaps because, unlike you, Sedgewick had only recently discovered—presumably from someone in Vienna—that she was working for the Bourbons. Or perhaps because the Bourbons knew he was carrying correspondence from Austria proposing that Napoléon be allowed to leave his half-Austrian son on the throne of France?”

Jarvis looked at him sharply. “Who told you that?”

“Does it matter?”

“Not really.” Jarvis returned his attention to his cravat. “Sibil Wilde is smart enough to know that the Prince would never seriously entertain such a proposal—apart from which, the correspondence Sedgewick carried had already been delivered, remember?” He paused to carefully set a fold into the starched white linen. “Did it ever occur to you that the man’s recent trip to the Continent had absolutely nothing to do with his death?”

“It has occurred to me, yes. But I can definitely see the Bourbons killing Sedgewick to get their hands on the list he also brought back from Vienna, although you claim to know nothing about it.” Sebastian watched his father-in-law turn away from the mirror to reach for his waistcoat. “I’ve asked you several times now if you know the identity of the Bourbons’ assassin.”

“And I’ve told you several times that I do not.”

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