Page 8 of Death at Fournier Downs
“That is not necessary. I will show him to the quarry,” Philip said, biting off the words as if they were gristle.
She ought to have expected his suggestion, but still, annoyance stirred in her chest. Audrey maintained a hopefully serene expression. “He would also like to see where I saw Charlotte running through the trees.”
He had not specifically said as much but she imagined he would.
“Tell me where, and I will show him.”
“I will come with you and show him myself.”
She and Philip locked eyes. While he cared deeply about perceptions, it was only after some scandal or near scandal that those perceptions seemed to rule him. About a year before the arrest, he’d had a floundering and uncontrolled habit of visiting opium dens. He’d put Audrey through hell, disappearing for days on end at times. At last, something had made him see the light, and afterward, he’d spent months being stringent, over-correcting his lack of restraint. She had the feeling that was what he was doing now, too.
“Excellent, I will have my horse saddled as well,” Cassie said with a happy leap. She then made way for the door.
“Cassandra—” Philip started, but she only quickened her step and left before her brother could say more.
He speared Audrey with a look that said,You are responsible for this.She left the study without reply. Sometimes, leaving Philip to his dark moods was the better choice. Besides, she needed to exchange her walking dress for a riding habit. It seemed Cassie would get her wish after all: an introduction to Officer Hugh Marsden.
ChapterFour
Aweight, like lead ballast, filled his gut the moment he turned his hired horse up the manicured drive toward Fournier House. The manor stood at the crest of a knoll, its many windows and gables and chimneys spearing the sky. Flowering vines climbed the exterior, blocking out whole stretches of stone. The place was regal but not ostentatious. Even though it was massive in scale, it was somehow still understated. How a piece of architecture could convey power and wealth, but also taste and refinement, made no sense, but Fournier House managed.
Two great columns topped by massive stone spheres stood together as a gateway to where the drive ended in a circle. Instead of a fountain, as had been at Greely Park, the circular drive was centered by a lily pond bordered by a low stone wall. A few toy sail boats bobbed among the lily pads, and Hugh had the disconcerting image of Audrey and the duke sitting out here, launching them together, laughing as the wind filled the little sails and set them racing. He scowled at his own imagination as he dismounted and cut his eyes away from the toy boats.
Two liveried footmen approached to take his horse. However, before they could reach for the reins, the Duke of Fournier exited the front door.
“Never mind that, thank you,” he said to them. “The officer will need his mount.”
“Your Grace.” Hugh made the obligatory bob of his head. The duke came to a stop in front of Hugh, his expression barely masking his exasperation.
“Officer Marsden,” he replied. “The ladies are waiting for us at the stables.”
Hugh knew better than to show his hand by wearing any expression other than one of detachment and disinterest, even if he questioned what lady, other than the duchess, would be joining them.
He followed the duke, leading his horse by its traces, toward the side of the manor. The duke moved with haste, the tails of his green frock coat whipping, the spurs on the heels of his riding boots spinning. Fournier was not pleased to see him. For some reason, Hugh took pleasure in that. He also thought he knew why.
“Her Grace did not inform you that she had written to Bow Street.” He watched the duke’s back to see his reaction. Sure enough, his spine straightened.
“That does not signify,” he replied after a moment. “I will show you to the quarry, officer. You can gather whatever it is you need for your investigation.”
An investigation the duke clearly did not support.
“Indeed,” was all Hugh replied as a quadrangular stone and timber stable came into view.
Three horses were waiting in the stable yard and standing beside them were two young women. Hugh’s eyes went immediately to Audrey.The duchess. He should not be thinking of her by her given name, but he kept slipping. He’d done so verbally at Greely Park, too, and the flash of her eyes had scolded him.
The duchess now wore a riding habit, which was more suitable and sturdier for their task. The lady next to her was younger, with the duke’s own fair coloring. She watched Hugh’s approach with widening eyes and an expanding smile. He exhaled in preparation for what would no doubt be one of the most irritating rides he would ever take.
“Officer Hugh Marsden,” the duke said, his voice loud and clipped in impatience. “May I introduce my sister, Lady Cassandra Sinclair. She has insisted on giving us the gift of her presence.”
The young woman made a face at her older brother’s sarcastic cut before bobbing a curtsey toward Hugh.
“My lady,” he said in greeting.
“Don’t mind the duke, Officer Marsden, he’s almost as dull as the countryside,” she said lightly, accepting the hand of a groomsman and mounting her sidesaddle.
He tried not to grin, but Audrey caught him at it.
“Your Grace,” he said. She half-grinned before darting a look at the duke. Fournier had taken the reins of his mount and was speaking to the groomsman.
