Page 76 of Lies in Little Sutherland
“There might be something there that proves that he didn’t do it,” Christopher said.
I watched him head into the hallway as the words ricocheted around in my head.I hesitated for barely a second before I followed.
“Wait for me.”
ChapterSeventeen
“You don’t haveto come inside with me,” Christopher said as we navigated the hallways from the west wing to the east.“If your conscience is bothering you, that is.”
“That’s below you, Christopher,” I informed him as we trotted past the top of the stairs and the doors to the Duchess’s Chamber and, five seconds later, the Duke’s Chamber.“It sounds like something nasty and sarcastic that Crispin would say.”
He flicked me a look.“And yet you won’t invade his privacy to read his personal correspondence.”
“It’s personal!And I already did invade his privacy, don’t forget.I have no objection to doing it again.I simply think the letter is a dead end, and we should leave it alone.”
It was the final thing Crispin had left of his mother.We had no right to it.
Christopher didn’t attempt to counter this very reasonable objection.“I just want a look at it,” he said stubbornly.
I threw my hands up.“The whole thing is mad.You cannot possibly believe that Crispin is behind this.Why would he be?”
“If not Crispin,” Christopher inquired as we turned the corner to the east wing, “then who?”
“I told you that.Lady Laetitia.She has every reason to want Crispin to become Duke of Sutherland so she can become duchess.And unlike him, she has coldblooded murderess written all over her.”
Christopher snorted.“Why don’t you tell me how you really feel, Pippa?”
“I just did.I feel as if Crispin is incapable of doing this, and that she is very much capable of it.He wouldn’t frame me for Doctor Meadows’s murder, Christopher.She would do.”
Christopher didn’t answer, just stopped in front of the door to Crispin’s sitting room and glanced at me.“Last chance.Do you want to come inside with me, or stay in the hallway?”
“I’ll stay,” I said.“I’ve invaded St George’s privacy enough for today.”
He nodded.“Give the alert if anyone turns up.”
“What sort of alert would you like?”I wanted to know as he turned towards the door.
He glanced at me over his shoulder.“Anything you can think of, Pippa.Two raps followed by three on the door?”
Certainly.Because rapping on the door in the rhythm of ‘Duke of Sutherland’ wouldn’t appear suspicious at all.
“I’ll do my best,” I said, flapping a hand at him.“Go on.The quicker you do, the less likely I’ll have to do anything at all.The letter is in the night table drawer on the side of the bed nearest the door.The obituary is there, as well.”
He flashed me a grin before ducking through the door and shutting it behind himself.I leaned against the wall opposite the door to Christopher’s bedchamber and fastened my eyes on it, the better to look as if I had some purpose in being here.
I don’t know if you’ve ever been in the position of lookout, while you wait for someone to finish something they shouldn’t be doing, that could get the both of you in trouble if you were caught.I have done—it wasn’t the first time Christopher had put me in this position, nor was the opposite a lie, actually—and it’s nerve-racking.The seconds tick by agonizingly slowly.It feels like every minute is ten, and like the ordeal will never end.It also feels as if you’re liable to be caught at any second.If you’re lucky, the person inside the room is quick and no one sees you standing there, but occasionally you’re not lucky, and the door to the servants’ stairs opens, and the Duke of Sutherland steps through.
I must admit that I was surprised to see him.Perhaps even shocked.Of all the people in the Hall, Uncle Harold was the last I would have expected to use the servants’ stairs to get around.
Or perhaps not the last.That might have been Lady Euphemia, who always looked as if she were smelling something rank—probably me.But His Grace was certainly near the top of that list.
He looked equally surprised to see me.He stepped through the door, saw me standing there, and for a second, appeared as if he wished to duck back inside the stairwell.Then he looked from me to the door of his son’s room, and his eyes narrowed.
“Miss Darling.”
He does occasionally call me Philippa.Or did, when I was a child.The older I get, the less frequent it seems to be.
I dipped at the knees.Hewasthe Duke of Sutherland, and I have been taught manners.I’ll be polite to the man, especially in his own house, even if I do not particularly like him.“Your Grace.”
