Page 31 of Death at Fournier Downs
She met with Verly at the bottom of the stairs and was informed that His Grace was in the study. As she approached, voices could be heard behind the door, one of which made her pulse skip. Audrey pushed back her shoulders, annoyed with herself, and entered.
She made an effort to find Philip first. He stood holding a glass of whisky at the hearth, the fire newly stoked. After so many days of hot, humid weather, Audrey had been longing for the brisk weather of autumn, not this damp, bone-deep chill.
A shorter, trim man in clean and pressed if not overly fashionable clothes, rose immediately from one of the club chairs. It was the man from the inquest. And standing behind a second club chair, rubbing a thick towel over his dark head of wet hair, was Hugh Marsden. He’d stripped down to his shirtsleeves and waistcoat, his drenched jacket and hat set up before the hearth’s flames to help them dry.
She locked eyes with Hugh but severed the connection quickly, Philip’s admonishments still wending their way through her head.
“Dr. Wilkes, may I present my wife, Audrey, the Duchess of Fournier,” Philip said. “Darling, this is Dr. Wilkes, the coroner.”
The proper introductions having been made, Dr. Wilkes now bowed at the hip. “Your Grace.”
She found she could not part her lips to speak. Philip pulled a tartan wool blanket from the back of his study’s leather couch and draped it around her shoulders.
“You’re still shivering,” he said.
“Thank you.” She clutched the blanket like a shawl and with reluctance, approached the hearth.
Hugh had a glass of whisky in the hand that was not scrubbing the towel through his hair. He tossed the drink back.
“I have informed the coroner that you came upon the new victim’s body with Lady Cassandra,” Hugh said, his voice firm and clipped. He was angry, she realized. A departure from the tenderness he’d shown at the clearing. “I’ve also related that you think you saw a person in the woods immediately following.”
“What?” Philip stepped away from Audrey’s side. “I have not heard of this. Explain.”
Audrey wasn’t sure if he was speaking to her or to Hugh until she saw that he held the Bow Street officer in yet another searing glare. Hugh matched it with one of his own, likely in reaction to the duke’s imperious command.
“It was after Cassie left to fetch help,” Audrey said quickly, stepping in before either one could speak. “I saw movement in the trees. My horse was spooked. I think there was someone there, but I went into the ruined cottage and…well, no one came after me.”
Until Hugh arrived and she set upon him with a rock she’d jiggled loose from the wall. He sported a raw scrape and faint bruise on his jaw. Then, of course, they’d embraced. She pinned her bottom lip between her teeth and tried to dispel the memory of how he’d clutched her to him, hushing her, promising her that she was safe.
Belatedly, she realized Dr. Wilkes was speaking. The coroner looked at her, expectantly.
“Can you repeat that?” she asked, feeling even more discombobulated.
“You also believe someone was in the wood near the quarry when you happened upon the countess’s body,” Dr. Wilkes said. His voice betrayed no suspicion, but she remembered Philip’s comment in her boudoir, about how dubious the coroner might be about her finding two bodies within one week.
“Yes, but that time, I didn’t see anyone. It was only a feeling.”
The coroner nodded, but she withered at her own statement. She needed fact, notfeeling. Annoyed with herself, she turned toward the fire.
“Why would you choose to stay?”
The coroner’s next question shouldn’t have caught her off guard. Hadn’t Cassie questioned her? Philip and Hugh, too? She couldn’t exactly tell Dr. Wilkes the truth—that she’d wanted a chance to inspect the body and touch one of the dead woman’s items to peer into its memories. So, she shrugged a shoulder in what she hoped was a blithe manner and said, “It seemed disrespectful to leave the poor lady all alone.”
If the coroner questioned the veracity of her answer, his serious expression gave no indication. “I see.”
Hugh, who had been alternately drying his dark hair and sipping another whisky, tossed the towel onto a chair. “Let us all speak plainly. Whatever the motive for these two killings, the duchess has twice now nearly interrupted the man in his deed. He might believe she has seen more than she has. He might even suspect she could identify him.”
The hot bath, the whisky, the blanket over her shoulders, none of it had whisked the chill from her limbs. Now, she felt the slide of more ice in her veins.
“Are you suggesting my wife is in some sort of danger, Marsden?”
Hugh’s expression remained hard and inscrutable as he met Audrey’s eyes, not the duke’s. “I do. It is imperative, duchess, that you do not go off on your own again. It would be best if you stayed in at Fournier House for the time being.”
She gaped at him, livid, and perfectly aware of his ulterior motive—to keep her out of his investigation. The very investigationshebrought him to Hertfordshire for! Yes, it was true that she might have been seen by a killer, but fear for her own safety had not cowed her before, and she wouldn’t let it now. Her friend had been pushed to her death; a maid from Haverfield had been bludgeoned. If there were any way Audrey could help discover the killer, she would do it. Besides, she had every intention of going to Haverfield the next day to speak to her mother and uncle, and hopefully to question the kitchen staff. Mrs. Landry was still Cook for his lordship, and Audrey knew the older woman had a soft spot in her heart for her.
She smiled sweetly. “I will take your advice into consideration.” Her tone was so honeyed that Hugh only clenched his jaw and finished the rest of his whisky before turning to the hearth. He knew her too well to believe she was being sincere.
“What I would like to know is the reason for your visit to Fournier House today, Marsden,” the duke said.
