“It was Cynster—Earith—who found Ennis.” Worthington looked unnaturally pale. “None of the rest of us even went near—the butler and the footmen kept us away. Can’t see what good keeping us cooped up here will do.”
“Nevertheless,” Sir Humphrey said, and now there was steel in his tone, “for the moment, I require you to remain in this room. My chat with Lord Earith will not take long.”
With that, Sir Humphrey directed an inquiring look Sebastian’s way and, with a tip of his head, indicated the door.
Sebastian fell in beside the magistrate. As they neared the door, Sir Humphrey, his head lowered and his hands clasped behind his back, murmured, “You’re St. Ives’s son, aren’t you?”
“Yes. The Marquess of Earith is a courtesy title.”
“I see.” Sir Humphrey opened the drawing room door and waved Sebastian ahead of him. After closing the door behind them, Sir Humphrey said, “I’ll get Blanchard to find us a room, and you can tell me—”
“Actually”—Sebastian halted in the middle of the hall and, looking back, met Sir Humphrey’s eyes—“might I suggest we speak outside?”
“Outside?” Sir Humphrey frowned.
Sebastian gestured to the front door. “There is a reason for my request. If you would humor me?”
Sir Humphrey debated for all of one second; he couldn’t gainsay a man of Sebastian’s lofty rank, not without having a very good reason. He nodded curtly. “Very well.”
Sebastian led the way to the door; a footman sprang to open it. Walking onto the front porch, Sebastian noted a constable standing in the shadows along the front terrace. Looking ahead, he pointed to the circle of open lawn beyond the sweep of the drive. “There should do.” He started down the steps, making it clear he expected Sir Humphrey to follow.
Sebastian crossed the gravel drive and walked on until he was several yards beyond its edge. Then he halted and waited for Sir Humphrey to join him.
The magistrate stopped and faced him, regarding him through narrowed eyes. “What’s the reason for this, heh?”
Sebastian met his gaze. “I want to be one hundred percent certain that what I say to you will not be overheard.”
Sir Humphrey blinked.
Before the magistrate could pose another question, Sebastian asked, “Have you heard of Winchelsea? Of the role he plays?”
Sir Humphrey’s expression grew wary. “You mean Wolverstone’s heir? Another marquess like you?”
Sebastian nodded. “Just so. But the important point is whether or not you know what Winchelsea does.”
Sir Humphrey studied Sebastian for a moment, then grudgingly admitted, “I’ve heard he works for the Home Secretary in some secretive sort of capacity.”
“Indeed.” Sebastian judged he had to take the chance and tell Sir Humphrey of the mission. “What I am about to tell you must be held in the strictest confidence. I’m attending this house party ostensibly squiring Lady Antonia, who is a family friend, both of my family and also of Winchelsea’s. In reality, I’m here in Drake’s—Winchelsea’s—stead. He sent me here to act as his surrogate and receive a message from Lord Ennis.”
“A message?”
“Ennis wrote that he had information of vital significance to lay before Winchelsea, but that he would not commit that information to writing. Instead, he wanted to meet Winchelsea face-to-face and suggested he attend this house party for that purpose. Unfortunately, Winchelsea had a pressing engagement elsewhere—in Ireland, as it happens. Consequently, he was very interested in hearing what Ennis had to say, but couldn’t be in two places at the same time. I’ve occasionally assisted Winchelsea before, so he asked me to stand in for him and come to the house party—and we arranged for me to attend as Lady Antonia’s escort. My brief was to contact Ennis and receive whatever information his lordship wished to divulge.”
“I see.” Sir Humphrey frowned; he stared at the trees bordering the lawn. “So what happened? Did you get the information?”
“Yes and no. I only managed to speak privately with Ennis this morning, when I alerted him to the fact that I was Winchelsea’s surrogate. We couldn’t talk further then—we were in the middle of a game of croquet. Ennis suggested we should meet tonight at ten o’clock in his study, the implication being that he would give me the information for Winchelsea then. I arrived outside the study door just after the clocks struck ten, and found the door ajar. I went in and, subsequently, found Ennis stabbed and dying—you saw where the body was.”