Page 38 of The Tart's Final Noel
“We buried her today.Very sad.Do you have a name for her?”Rafe heard Damien stirring the hearth in the pub.The man might be a wealthy landowner, but he’d earned his living on the road.He knew what needed doing.
“The sketch looked like my sister, Mary Elton,” the larger, older man said.
Fat jowls sporting a grizzled beard, Elton didn’t remove his cloak to reveal his attire, but his neckcloth was properly tied and clean.The “nanny” hadn’t been exactly gentry, either, from the looks of what remained of her—although she’d had black hair, not blond.For Verity’s sake, Rafe wanted to prove he lied, but looks alone wouldn’t do it.
“I’m sorry,” Rafe said honestly.“We had no way of identifying her.”He couldn’t say she died of opium poisoning.He was basically an honest man but he didn’t have to flap his tongue.No sense in letting a killer know that they suspected murder.
“The children are too young to know their nanny’s name?”Dryden asked sympathetically.
And now Rafe remembered...the children had said their father had sentElton.Elton had called thembastards.
Shaken now that he faced the first danger to those beautiful children, Rafe was relieved when Damien stepped out of the pub as if he were a departing customer.A smooth-talking lawyer knew how to finesse this conversation.
“The children?”Damien asked, distracting the pair.He swept off his hat and bowed.“Damien Sutter, at your service.”
The clerk bowed.“George Dryden, sir.Mr.Browning has mentioned your name.I have a letter for you.”He produced a missive from his coat pocket.“He says you’ve made inquiries about Miss Smith’s estate?”
“Mrs.Turner’s estate,” Damien corrected with authority as he hastily scanned the letter in the dim light.“Her parents, unfortunately, are in Virginia, and cannot be easily reached to verify her marital status.”He tucked the letter into his coat and turned to the second man.
Rafe had to admire how Damien smoothly directed, distracted, and twisted what little they knew into plausibility.
“And you are?A trifle late for traveling.Have you come from Stratford?”Damien shoved his greatcoat back by putting his fists on his hips in an intimidating stance that revealed his tailored frockcoat, silk waistcoat, and buff trousers, every inch a London gentleman.
“James Elton, sir,” the older man said gruffly, shying backward into the shadows.“I come too late for my sister, but I’ll be takin’ her children with me.She would have wanted that.”
“She had children with her?”Somehow, Damien arranged to look shocked.“Upon my word, I did not know that.Do you think they’re lying dead in the ditch like your sister?It wasn’t a pretty sight.Animals are hungry this time of year.”
That was mean, and disgusting, but if it protected the babes...Rafe didn’t know whether to laugh or gag at the unhappy faces his guests pulled.
But instead of expressing concern for his sister or her children, Elton regained his composure and glowered.“We was told there was two lost childern.That’d be my sister’s babbies.”
Rafe wanted to hide in the kitchen, prepare food as he was brought up to do.But he had to witness whatever Damien told them, so he could give an honest reply if asked.
“Well, no,” Damien said, returning the tall hat to his golden-brown locks, tilting it stylishly.“The physician said the driver of the carriage was well past child-bearing age.You may have come all this way for nothing.Sorry, gentlemen.”He bowed and glanced at the clerk.“I’ll see you in the morning?”
“Certainly, sir.”Dryden spoke politely, as if his companion weren’t turning purple with rage.
“Them babbies were hers!”Elton shouted as Damien stepped into the night.
Taking Damien’s indifference as example, Rafe gestured toward the pub.“If you’ll have a seat, gentlemen, I’ll bring you a cold collation and ale shortly.”Pretending to be completely ignorant of the conversation or children, Rafe strode toward the kitchen.
Leaving Elton howling his outrage.
The man had claimed his sister’s name was Elton, like his own.She hadn’t been married then, and she’d been too old to have children that age.The man was a liar.So who was that poor woman?
Rafe feared this was the Elton who had worked at Beanblossom and terrorized the children.
How the hell did he interrogate him when he couldn’t arrest him for lying?
Twenty
Verity
In the rockingchair the kind ladies of the manor had provided, Verity held a weepy, tired Daphne.Daniel sat propped against pillows on his cot, a lamp shining on the book he struggled to read.
The pair had been happy enough playing with the other children in the attic, but now that night had arrived—they lived with monsters in their heads.
Verity knew monsters.They looked like normal people.Sometimes, they even pretended to be kind.And then they tore apart your home and tried to kill you.She never wanted these two to understand that.
