Page 79 of Lies in Little Sutherland
“A bit of it, yes.Nothing a change of clothes and a nip of brandy won’t cure.Can I interest you in a glass?”
He came towards me.I stepped out of the way and got a sardonic eyebrow for my trouble.He didn’t say anything, just brushed past me, through the doorway and into the sitting room.Before I followed, I gave the bedroom one more comprehensive look.There was still no sign of Christopher, and no indication that he had been here.
“Don’t mind if I do,” I said and followed him into the sitting room.
“What’s that?”He shot me a look over his shoulder from where he was standing in front of the bar cart.“Oh… brandy?Or something else?”
“Whatever’s convenient,” I said as I made my way over to one of the armchairs and took a seat.“Thank you.”
“Don’t mention it.”He filled two glasses, crossed the floor to give me mine, and then took his own over to the other armchair and seated himself on it.After a sip of the honey-colored liquid and a pleased hum, he fixed me with a stare.“Do you plan to tell me what you’re doing here, or just pretend that my finding you outside was a coincidence?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I told him staunchly, and took a sip of my brandy.
He nodded, albeit not as if he believed me.“I’m sure.Where’s Kit?”
“In his room,” I said.“As I told you.”
“And you left him there to follow me in here?”He arched a brow.“What will he say when he comes out and finds you gone, do you suppose?”
“I don’t imagine he’ll say much,” I said.“He’ll assume I’ve gotten tired of waiting and gone back to my own room, I daresay.Or perhaps downstairs.”
Crispin nodded pleasantly.“Not likely to look for you here, then?”
“I imagine that this would be the last place he’d think to look for me,” I agreed breezily, even as I wondered where this line of questioning was headed and whether I just imagined that it had a slight threatening quality to it.
But no.Surely Christopher wasn’t right, and Crispin wasn’t thinking about strangling me and hiding me in his dressing room until he could get rid of my body?
My fingers tightened around the glass until I worried that I would accidentally break it.And then I forced myself to relax while telling myself that I was being silly.If Crispin attempted to do anything to me, I would brain him with the brandy glass.That would give Christopher time to intervene.I wasn’t alone, I reminded myself.Christopher was still here somewhere.There was only one way into and out of Crispin’s quarters, and it was the door in the sitting room.Christopher couldn’t have left without me seeing him.He had to be hiding, biding his time.
“You know, Darling,” Crispin said, watching me spiral, “if you were to tell me what’s going on, I might be able to help.”
“Nothing’s going on,” I said, a bit too fast.And then, to hide it, I took another swallow of brandy.It burned going down, and I coughed.I don’t think I could have looked more guilty had I tried.
Crispin rolled his eyes.“Of course not.Where’s Kit, really?”
I was still catching my breath.But my eyes flicked—entirely involuntarily, I swear—to the door to the bedroom.
“Truly?”He eyed the door speculatively for a moment before turning back to me.“Are you certain?We were both in there just a few minutes ago, and I didn’t see him.Unless he was hiding under the bed…?”
I didn’t answer.For all I knew, Christopher might have been hiding under the bed.All the old seventeenth-century beds are high off the ground; the better to keep the mice out, you know.And Christopher is slender, so there’d be plenty of room for him underneath the frame.Although it was far more likely that he would have taken refuge in the dressing room, I thought.
Crispin surged to his feet.I watched as he stalked towards the door to the bedroom, contemplating whether it would be better or worse for me to call out.
While I was still contemplating, Crispin raised his voice.“Come out, Kit.I know you’re there.”
There was a moment during which nothing happened, and during which I wondered whether I was wrong and Christopher had, somehow, made it out of Crispin’s rooms without me seeing him.It was also a moment during which I kicked myself for having come in here for no reason, when Christopher wasn’t even here.
And then there was the sound of footsteps from the other room, and the sulky appearance of my cousin—and Crispin’s cousin—in the door to the bedroom.
“You just couldn’t keep your mouth shut, could you?”he asked me.
I sniffed.“He’s not stupid, you know.When I showed up here for no reason, he could tell that something was going on.”
“Much obliged,” Crispin said dryly as he returned to his chair.“Have a seat, Kit.Tell me what’s going on.Feel free to get yourself a drink if it’ll make the confession come out easier.”
“Don’t mind if I do.”We sat in silence while Christopher splashed a finger of brandy into a glass before coming over to perch on the arm of my chair.I surmised I might have been forgiven, at least a little bit.
Crispin looked from him to me and back.“Am I right in thinking that the two of you have concocted another fantasy in which I’m guilty of murder?”
