The Lady By His Side(36)

Crawford pursed his lips, then his features relaxed somewhat, and he nodded. “I believe we understand each other, my lord. My lady. So if you would tell me all you know of Lord Ennis, up to the point of finding him dead?”

Antonia listened as Sebastian concisely explained what had brought him to Pressingstoke Hall, then described their arrival and the various events that had occurred since. He told of arranging to meet with Ennis at ten o’clock and outlined his movements after the ladies had left the dining table to the moment of finding Ennis dying.

When informed that Ennis hadn’t yet been dead, and hearing Ennis’s last words, Crawford widened his eyes. “Gunpowder? And what did he mean by here?”

“Precisely our questions. With Ennis dead, we’ll need to find the answers.” Sebastian glanced at Antonia, who had remained uncharacteristically silent throughout. “I suggest that while you and Sir Humphrey search for Ennis’s murderer, Lady Antonia and I should use the time to pursue the—as you labeled them—wider implications.”

Crawford slowly nodded. “Sir Humphrey mentioned some letters you hold. If I could see them? Purely a formality.”

Sebastian gave him the letters; he kept them on him at all times.

After perusing the second, Crawford glanced sharply at him. “Why are you the last man Lord Ennis would want to see?”

Sebastian inwardly sighed and explained. He could almost see the obvious suspicion rise in Crawford’s mind, but then the inspector glanced at Antonia, then looked at Sir Humphrey, both of whom appeared bored and transparently saw nothing of concern in a long-ago liaison. Sebastian sensed Crawford’s bubble of suspicion deflating.

With that issue dealt with, the inspector humphed, glanced at the letters again, then refolded both and handed them back. “I agree that the best way forward is for us to work in parallel. It’s entirely possible, even likely, that someone here—almost certainly one of the guests—learned that Ennis was about to reveal something of vital importance regarding their efforts to you—to Winchelsea—and so killed Ennis before he could.”

Sebastian nodded. “If I’d found him a minute later, the killer would have succeeded, and we wouldn’t have learned anything.”

Crawford regarded him with a level gaze. “You might want to bear in mind that the killer might grow nervous over whether or not Ennis managed to say anything to you.”

“I took care to let everyone suppose that Ennis was already dead when I found him. At this point, only Sir Humphrey, you, and Lady Antonia”—Sebastian glanced briefly her way—“know that he managed to utter even those two words. Two words that raise more questions than they answer.”

The inspector nodded decisively. “I’ll leave you to pursue them. Meanwhile, Sir Humphrey and I will hunt our murderer.”

“I feel I should point out that, once you have him, Winchelsea and his masters will have a very real interest in interrogating him. They’ll want to learn all they can, not just about the details of whatever plot’s afoot but about the organization behind it.”

Crawford pulled a face. “We’ll deal with Whitehall’s interest once we have him. Meanwhile”—he looked at Antonia—“if you would, my lady, could you describe where the ladies were during the half hour before the murder was discovered?”

Antonia repeated the information she’d given Sir Humphrey, adding that, in her opinion, Miss Bilhurst was the definitive source on the ladies’ movements. “She was at the piano the entire time and had a clear view of the room and the door. Although she was playing most of the time, she’s accomplished enough to have been observing her audience more or less constantly.”

Crawford thanked her, then asked Sebastian to detail what he knew of when the other male guests left the dining room.

Sebastian obliged.

When he fell silent, Crawford looked over the notes he’d jotted down. “So Ennis left the dining room first, followed a short time later by McGibbin, Worthington, Filbury, Wilson, and Boyne. Exactly where they went, you can’t say, but some, at least, said they were headed for the billiards room. A bit after that, you left and walked onto the front terrace, leaving Parrish and Featherstonehaugh still seated at the table, talking.” The inspector looked up and met Sebastian’s eyes. “Is that correct?”

Sebastian nodded. “And when I came in from the terrace a few minutes before the hour and walked to the study, I didn’t see any of the others on the way.”

Crawford humphed. “I believe,” he said, glancing at Antonia, “that we can discount the ladies, at least for the role of murderer.” He looked at Sebastian, then returned his gaze to Antonia. “I have one more question for both of you. When the alarm was raised, did you see anyone—anyone at all—whose reaction seemed odd or out of place? Did anyone behave in a way you wouldn’t have expected?”