Several hear-hears supported that assertion.
“I’m sure that’s so,” Cecilia allowed, “but as the inspector has decreed that we are all to remain here for the time being, I wish to assure you that, while our planned excursions beyond the estate cannot now proceed, the amenities of the house and grounds will continue to be available for your use as previously, and while I’m sure you will understand if I retreat somewhat from your company, I would encourage you to make use of the avenues the house affords to divert your minds from this distressing situation.”
Everyone, Antonia included, approved of their hostess’s speech; in Antonia’s opinion, it hit just the right note.
Cecilia rose and excused herself; she dissuaded the other ladies from accompanying her, stating she intended to rest quietly in her room.
Once she had left, pausing only to speak briefly with Blanchard in the doorway, the others of the company, apparently feeling rather better over disporting themselves while their host lay dead, started making plans for the day. On the ladies’ part, the plans were restrained, but as Antonia listened, she realized that, as the shock wore off, the younger ladies—Melissa, Claire, Georgia, and Melinda Boyne and Amelie Bilhurst—were rather titillated by the drama; none of them had known Ennis well, and his murder was, she supposed, more excitement than they’d previously encountered in their conventional lives.
Most of the ladies had made some attempt to find dark colors to wear. Being black haired, Antonia rarely wore darker hues, but she had brought a navy-blue walking dress with her and had donned that this morning.
Casting her gaze over the men of the company, she noted that, unlike the ladies, they seemed much more hesitant over committing themselves to any particular diversion in any other man’s company. All appeared to be keeping their distance—mentally, at least—from each other, even Mr. Parrish and Mr. McGibbin, who, if she’d understood correctly, were old friends.
Before she could decide what the gentlemen’s behavior meant, Blanchard materialized between her chair and Sebastian’s.
“My lord, Inspector Crawford and Sir Humphrey have requested your and Lady Antonia’s presence. If you and her ladyship will follow me, I will show you to the estate office.”
An immediate and distinctly avid silence fell.
“Yes, of course.” Sebastian pushed back his chair and got to his feet. He waved the footman back and drew out Antonia’s chair.
She rose and smoothed down her skirts. She met Sebastian’s gaze; he smiled faintly and offered his arm, and she placed her hand on his sleeve.
Utterly ignoring all the fascinated watchers, Sebastian turned her toward the door. “Lead on, Blanchard.”
Leaving a pregnant silence reigning in the breakfast room, they followed Blanchard across the hall to the first door in the corridor leading to Ennis’s study.
Blanchard opened the door and announced them.
Sebastian steered Antonia before him into the office. It was a decent-sized room, with a large desk placed before the far wall on which a detailed map of the estate was displayed. Pigeonholes and cabinets lined one side wall, with bookshelves covering the other. The shelves were packed with ledgers, all neatly arrayed spine-out. The room drew light from high windows in the wall it shared with the front hall, itself well supplied with natural light courtesy of the cupola in its ceiling.
The inspector and Sir Humphrey rose from chairs behind the large desk. The inspector nodded politely. “Good morning, my lord. My lady.” He waved to two comfortable chairs angled before the polished expanse. “If you would be seated?” He looked past them at the constable standing at his ease inside the door. “Wait outside, please, constable, and make sure no one disturbs us.”
“Yes, sir.”
Sebastian guided Antonia to the chair on the right, then sat in the other chair, directly in front of the inspector. Antonia settled her skirts, then clasped her hands in her lap and fixed her gray gaze on the inspector, but said nothing.
Sebastian took pity on the man. “I take it Sir Humphrey has explained the background to my presence here.”
“Indeed, my lord.” Crawford studied Sebastian for several seconds, then leaned forward, placing his forearms on the desk and clasping his hands. He fixed a level look on Sebastian’s face. “I’ll be frank, my lord. On the one hand, I’m not at all thrilled to discover that this murder might be connected with some political intrigue in which Whitehall’s agents are involved. On the other hand, I have to admit to a…certain curiosity. Not every murder has wider implications.”
“I should think that was just as well, at least from your perspective. However, that is the hand Fate has dealt us in this instance.” Sebastian hesitated, then said, “It might help to mention that both myself and Lady Antonia are acquainted with your Chief Inspector Stokes, and even more with Mr. Barnaby Adair. We therefore appreciate the…restrictions and requirements, and indeed, the limitations of your position.”