Page 6 of Fatal By Design
“We left a footman with the coach and the driver,” Audrey put in.
“Where is the driver’s body now? And the coach?” Hugh’s mind easily geared back onto the well-traveled track of questioning witnesses. Being relieved from his post as Bow Street had been a significant blow; he took pride in his work and had never, not once, tired of it. Being told he could no longer do the thing he loved, and instead had to play the part of lord of the realm, had been salt in an open wound.
“The coach has been stored in the carriage house and the body is in the wine cellar for now, though we could move it to the icehouse if the need arises,” Fournier replied.
“Itismy sister’s coach.” With a defiant glare toward Lord Westbrook, Audrey added, “And Millie always travels with her maid.”
She turned away from the marquess and met Hugh’s eyes again. The subtle and quick flex of her brow said something that only Hugh was likely able to read: she knew more. Things she could not say here, in front of the others. She must have touched something on the coach, or inside it, and a vision had likely been fed to her. The extraordinary ability had helped them before with other lines of inquiry, and once he could speak to her privately, she would surely inform him.
Impatience to be alone with her warred with apprehension. The last few months had changed much in each of their lives. It seemed an impossible task to pick up where they’d left off.
“Was Lady Redding on her way to Greenbriar for the house party?”
The new duchess, Geneva, spoke up at this. “She was not on the guest list.” With a quick, apologetic glance at Audrey, she added, “My husband and I are not well acquainted with the viscountess.”
Knowing how Audrey felt about her sister, Hugh didn’t imagine she took offense at Millie not being invited to stay at Greenbriar. But that left the question of what she had been doing near the estate.
“She lives at Reddingate in Essex, near Brentwood,” Audrey supplied, still wringing her hands. “I have no idea what she could have been doing out this way.”
“Could she have been coming to see you?” Hugh asked.
Audrey’s pursed lips softened, and she winced. “I can’t fathom why she might have been. If that was her plan, the visit was unannounced.”
“Let’s not forget that the coach might have been empty to begin with. Perhaps it was only transporting belongings to someplace,” Westbrook said, again treating Audrey’s claim as improbable.
“It was not traveling without passengers. The door was open, the steps lowered to the road,” Audrey snapped, her impatience thinning. As was Hugh’s.
Westbrook had always been an intractable fool. That Hugh might be spending the next two weeks at Greenbriar with him made him even more reluctant to stay for the entirety of the affair. At least Thornton had accepted his own invitation, extended to him, no doubt, to give Hugh a known acquaintance. The duchess was thoughtful in that regard.
However now, with Lady Redding and her maid missing and a driver dead, Hugh had something to focus on. And Audrey, who appeared uncharacteristically uneasy, concerned him.
“I’m inclined to agree with Audrey, however, perhaps we should send a messenger to Reddingate and inquire about the driver’s destination and if Lady Redding was with him.” Lord Tobias’s voice was as young as his nearly whisker-free cheeks.
“Yes, that makes the most sense at this point,” Fournier agreed.
But Hugh shook his head. “No messenger. I will go to Reddingate myself.”
Giving the servants and staff time to go through the driver’s room and his belongings or their lady’s things in search of answers would not do. He also couldn’t deny the allure of already leaving Greenbriar, as self-serving as it would be.
“I insist that you be shown to your room and have some refreshment before you depart,” the duchess said. He wasn’t above reason; he had been traveling all day and was both restless to move and famished.
He agreed to the terms and the drawing room began to empty. The duke and Tobias locked themselves into a whispered discussion, while Westbrook threw back the rest of this drink and stalked from the room.
From the corner of his vision, he saw Audrey walking stiffly toward him, as if on her way to leave as well. As she slowed in passing, her whisper was hardly audible: “Meet me in the library balcony as soon as you can.”
And then, in a rustling cloud of black bombazine, she continued past him and was gone.
ChapterThree
The mezzanine in the library had become a place of refuge for Audrey over the last several weeks. Genie and Michael had been gracious hosts, giving her solitude and quiet, and for that she was thankful. However, staying with her brother- and sister-in-law also gave her an up-close view of their grief over Philip—and for that, Audrey felt only guilt. She found it easier to be alone, reading in an alcove tucked away in the mezzanine, out of view from the main library below. This last month, she had often brought her writing box with her, lining up her tools upon the alcove’s desk to write to Cassie in Brighton. She would also write letters to Philip. Though they remained unsent, she would pour out her emotions on paper alone in the alcove, attempting to work through her complicated thoughts and feelings.
She was angry he left, and yet also understanding. She didn’t begrudge him his chance to have the kind of freedom he’d longed for, but what abouther? It wasn’t selfish to want the same freedom, and yet as much as Philip believed his scheme would free her as well as himself, it had not. Not fully, at least. What more could he have done to free her? Offered to take her with him? Stage both of their deaths, rather than just his own? She never would have agreed, and he had known that. Still, why hadn’t he at least offered it?
Out of caution, she burned her rambling letters to Philip in the grate in her room. Oddly, they helped her. Much the same way holding her brother James’s nautilus shell usually did. She kept her treasured memento from her late brother stored in a compartment in the writing box. Her letters to Philip and her brother’s shell would soothe her whenever she was feeling agitated.
To Audrey, the alcove was a safe spot, and it was also a perfect place to now speak with Hugh in private.
Her pulse quickened, as it seemed to have done nonstop since coming upon the coach in the road. She was worried for Millie and her maid, but her quickening pulse was not just due to concern for them. Seeing Hugh in the drawing room had somehow unsettled herandtempered her worry—now that he was here, she felt at ease knowing that someone competent would help her find Millie. And yet, as they had discussed the particulars of the attack on the coach, she had not been able to stave off shivers of nervousness.
