Page 30 of Death at Fournier Downs
“I understand you are eager for answers,” he said. “And your ability to see things the rest of us cannot leads you to feel like you must do certain things alone. But Audrey, you need to place more value on your own safety.”
She sipped her whisky in silence. Philip sighed and ambled away, toward a pale oak dressing table where Greer kept her silver and mother-of-pearl brush and comb, and small cases of hair pins and jewelry.
“Come,” he said, taking up the brush. “Your hair is a mass of tangles. Are you housing a bird’s nest in there?”
She scowled at him but laughed, appreciative of his attempt to lighten the mood.
“Greer will brush my hair.”
“I am just as capable, thank you.” He motioned for her to sit on the velvet settee and with an indulgent sigh, she acquiesced. He began to tease out the damp knots, which were nowhere near as abundant as he had claimed.
“We should discuss what we will say to the coroner. He has arrived, I’m told,” Philip said.
“We will tell him the truth,” Audrey replied, curious about his comment. “Cassie and I came upon a body in the woods, and we sent for help.”
Philip paused in his efforts. “It is not as simple as that. The coroner is an astute man, and he will not like that you have now foundtwobodies in the woodland surrounding our estate.”
Unease trickled through her. She had not yet considered that fact, but he was correct. It did appear rather unlikely.
“I have no other excuse except to say it happened by chance both times. And it’s not even an excuse, it’s the truth.”
“I know it is, darling.”
“So does Mr. Marsden. He will vouch for me.”
Philip paused again in his brushing. He did not care for the officer, she presumed.
“Were you meeting him there?”
Audrey pulled forward and turned on the stool to stare up at her husband. “No. Philip—”
He held up a hand. “I am not blind to the way he looks at you, and others will not be either. This is a very public situation. There will already be enough gossip.”
“He does notlookat me in any particular way, and I did not ask him to meet me,” she said, growing angrier by the moment. Was Philip accusing her of planning atrystin the woods with Hugh? While investigating her dead friend’s potential murder?
She stood, impatient to be dressed, and for him to leave.
“Very well, I believe you,” he sighed. “I just worry, that is all. He is…unsuitable for you.”
She speared him with another direct, cutting glare. “There is nothing at all between Mr. Marsden and I, not like that. And anyhow, isn’t that a shade hypocritical of you to decide?”
He’d taken a lover for months and hidden it from her. They had always agreed that should they stray beyond the confines of their untraditional marriage they would discuss it first.
Philip grimaced. “I was at least clandestine with St. John.”
She gaped at him, incredulous. “You callthatclandestine? You were arrested for murder!”
“That is beyond the point. Marsden is mired in scandal with that business with Neatham and his sister.”
She bit her tongue and went to the boudoir door, swinging it open. “Greer. I’d like to dress now.”
“Audrey—”
“You are wrong about him. Mr. Marsden is a perfect gentleman and has made no overtures toward me. In fact, I am quite sure he thinks me a nuisance. He despises all things connected with the ton as well, so your worries are unfounded. Now, I need to dress if you don’t mind.”
Her maid entered the boudoir with hesitation, likely having heard much, if not all, of their argument. Philip heaved a vexed sigh, placed the brush back onto the stand, and left. Audrey finished her whisky in a single toss, and Greer hurriedly dressed her. Hughhadbeen a perfect gentleman. Nothing untoward had occurred. If anything, she had been the one who was too forward in the stone cottage when she’d thrown herself into his arms and nearly sobbed with relief. He’d simply held her in return. The security of his arms, his own sigh of relief at finding her unharmed, had not been an overture in the least. Only a display of concern.
Audrey turned her thoughts to more important things. Hugh and the stable hands had certainly transported the dead woman’s body back to Fournier House, then interred it into the icehouse, alongside Charlotte. Philip, Hugh, and the coroner could all be discussing important developments without her as she primped in her boudoir. Audrey finally told Greer to just pin up her hair.
