Fourth, she was a suspect in her husband’s murder – which should probably rank first on Helena’s list.
Adding insult to injury, the woman had a gregarious personality. They couldn’t be more opposite. Helena’s propensity for quiet observation, coupled with an acerbic wit and complicated by her ability to read others’ thoughts, earned her the adjectives ofdisconcertingandtaciturn. Hardly flattering. She doubted those adjectives would ever be chosen to describe Lady Cynthia Burrows.
Helena sniffed. It mattered little how the world viewed her, just as it mattered little how attractive Lady Cynthia Burrows was. Beautiful women were just as capable of horrendous deeds as anyone else. A fact Helena knew well thanks to her mother. Willow Blair had been the prettiest of her three sisters, and the most monstrous.
‘Right. I suppose we should go and speak with Lady Burrows.’ Helena viewed the prospect with as much enthusiasm as one might when facing the gallows. A fate the marchioness might experience post-haste, depending on what Helena discovered.
‘Must you be so formal? Her name is Cynthia. In case you’ve forgotten, she is my sister-in-law and a dear friend.’ Clio’s clipped words were like the angry flick of a cat’s tail.
Helena couldn’t contain her snort of derision as she paused at the door of the dead man’s study. ‘She isn’tmysister-in-law. Nor is shemyfriend. I won’t protect her if she is guilty, Clio.’
There it was. Out in the open. Best to confront the ugly truth head-on instead of flitting around it. No matter the consequences, Helena wouldn’t protect the guilty, even if it cost her most dearly.
Clio’s amber eyes flashed dangerously as sparks jumped between her fingers. ‘She didn’t do this. And I would never ask you to hide the truth, Hel. You know that.’
‘Hide the truth!’ Sir Robin nodded his head.
Helena raised a brow at the sarcastic raven, whose timing was generally less than ideal.
Hamlet rubbed against her leg, leaving copper hair in his wake and providing her with unspoken comfort. Dew gathered in her own palms as she inadvertently pulled moisture from the air, readying for a fight in response to her cousin’s flash of temper. ‘You firewitches are always so… fiery. I’m merely reminding you that truth can be tricky when those you love are at risk.’
‘And I am reminding you my love for her is no more likely to cloud my judgement than your dislike of her will cloud yours. She isn’t guilty.’ The lights in the room flared, an unfortunate by-product of Clio’s magic. When her emotions ran high, her control tended to waver, causing all manner of disruption in the gas lighting.
‘I don’t dislike her. I don’t even know her.’ She didn’twantto know Cynthia Burrows.
‘Perhaps if you’d made any effort to get to know her, we wouldn’t be having this discussion.’ There was hurt in Clio’s eyes, but Helena couldn’t address that now. She was loath to admit the new distance between them might be partly Helena’s fault. Her refusal to join Clio and Ellie on outings with Cynthia during the busy summer season certainly hadn’t helped her feelings of isolation. But introspection didn’t solve murders.
Helena pursed her lips and exhaled slowly through her nose. ‘We wouldn’t be having this discussion if the entire staff hadn’t found her kneeling next to her dead husband’s body.’
Uncle Lachlan had briefed Clio and Helena the moment they arrived. The staff had been questioned, and pertinent facts emerged, prompting him to require their presence.
Fact one: Lord Burrows had entertained no guests the night before or the morning of his death.
Fact two: it was his habit to rise early and work in his office until mid-morning when he rang for coffee.
Fact three: instead of being summoned by Lord Burrows that morning, the butler arrived to the frantic screams of Lady Burrows.
Fact four: several maids heard Lady Burrows speaking with the housekeeper not half an hour before Lord Burrows was found dead. The phrase, ‘I’m going to kill that man!’ was distinctly heard.
‘Clio, I know you care about Cynthia, but we both know good people are capable of doing terrible things. I’m just trying to find the truth in this mess.’
Clio, Ellie, and Helena had all been raised together by their Aunt Rowan. While Clio and Ellie were true sisters, they treated Helena like another sibling. Which meant they sometimes fought like sisters, fierce and feral. But they were also a powerful and loyal braid of three.
How can a braid of three remain when new threads keep being added?
‘Cynthia is not like my mother, or yours.’
Cool power washed through Helena. ‘You don’t know that.’
Not every stranger is an enemy.
Helena dismissed her cousin’s thought before it could worm its way into her reasoning.
Sir Robin hopped from Clio’s shoulder onto the floor to conduct his own exploration of Lord Hubert’s study. Clio barely noticed, her focus remaining on Helena. ‘I know Cynthia is the last person who would commit murder.’
‘Time and a little magic will tell, cousin.’
Clio nodded. ‘Exactly. Let the facts guide us, not our prejudice.’
