‘It is mine. I won’t try to deny it. But I haven’t seen it in years. Hubert gave it to me when we were courting. I gave it back several months after we were married. I haven’t seen it since then.’
Helena snorted. ‘That’s rather convenient.’
Cynthia narrowed her hazel eyes and opened her mouth to deliver what would doubtlessly be a scathing retort, but she was interrupted by Uncle Lachlan. And Helena was unaccountably disappointed. She relished a battle of wits and knew this would be a worthy war.
‘Lady Burrows, can you think of any reason tha’ yer locket would be in yer husband’s study?’ Uncle Lachlan’s brown eyes flashed with real concern.Is it because you killed the bastard?
Helena felt a rush of triumph at her uncle’s thoughts. She wasn’t the only one who suspected the genteel Marchioness of Kentmore. But her elation was followed quickly by shame. She shouldn’t be delighting in this woman’s disaster. She could very well be innocent and awash in a sea of grief for her deceased husband. Although she didn’t look devastated. Shocked, yes. Determined, yes. But not devastated.
Thomas stood from the settee, disturbing Hamlet, who seemed to remember his job as Helena’s familiar. He padded over to her, his tail swishing with each step. Winding around her legs, he sat and blinked up at her.
It was impossible to stay mad at the little charmer. Helena scowled at him, but when he twitched his pointed nose at her and whined, she lost the battle with herself and reached down to rub behind his ear.
‘You can’t think Cynthia killed her husband just because of a locket. Lachlan, this is my sister we’re talking about.’ Thomas stood directly in front of her uncle. His deep voice and stern features were enough to strike fear in most men, but Uncle Lachlan stood his ground. While Thomas was taller than Uncle Lachlan, the Scotsman’s thick corded muscles left no doubt he could hold his own if there were ever a battle between these old friends.
Helena rolled her eyes. Men were such fools. No wonder she preferred the company of women. How anyone could find such posturing attractive was beyond her understanding.
Uncle Lachlan’s voice stayed remarkably calm even as a muscle twitched in his jaw. ‘I’m no’ sayin’ I think anything, Thomas. I’m just asking questions. You’ll recall that’s my job as Superintendent of Scotland Yard.’
‘Thomas is right. Cynthia couldn’t hurt a fly.’ Clio looked to her friend, and the faith glimmering in her amber eyes matched the bright clarity of her thoughts. Clio certainly wasn’t lying. But when Helena turned to focus on Cynthia, she heard nothing but the staccato beat of her own heart.
What sorcery is this?
The irony wasn’t lost on Helena. A witch asking such questions would have tickled her dry wit in any other situation, but she wasn’t laughing today.
Cynthia shook her head. ‘It will come as no surprise that Hubert and I did not have a particularly… close… marriage. Ours was like many others in the beau monde. He lived his life rather separately from mine, but we were content in our roles. Rest assured, if such distance were inspiration for murder, there would be no lord left living in London. I don’t know why he was in possession of my locket, but I do know I didn’t kill him.’
Helena pushed forward once more with her magic, desperate to hear the thoughts beneath Cynthia’s words.
Nothing.
Right. Enough of this guesswork.
Stepping forward, Helena pressed the necklace into Cynthia’s hand with firm fingers and held strong, forcing the connection. The contact was sure to shatter whatever shields were protecting the proper and staid marchioness.
4
Taking Cynthia’s hand was like plunging her own into a frigid lake and holding onto an electric eel. A current of power tore through Helena, but she refused to let go. Not until she broke through Cynthia’s barrier.
Holy Hecate!
She closed her eyes, knowing they would be bright silver, but Cynthia’s thoughts remained hidden as the electric current increased, creating a buzz in Helena’s ears.
A strangled cry escaped before Helena was forced to let go of Cynthia’s hand and step back. She was breathing heavily and felt like she’d just come out of a raging sea. No doubt puddles were gathering around her leather boots.
Blinking to clear her eyes, she clashed gazes with Cynthia. The woman must have felt the extraordinary jolt of energy because her cheeks flushed and she blinked rapidly.
During the entire encounter, Cynthia’s thoughts were still hidden from Helena.
‘What the blazes was that?’ Cynthia’s breathless words stroked like cool fingers over Helena’s senses.
‘Static electricity,’ Helena muttered, not caring if Cynthia believed her.
‘That was hardly static electricity!’
‘Something is amiss.’
‘You don’t say? What the bloody hell is going on?’ Cynthia looked from Helena to Uncle Lachlan to Clio. ‘I might be in shock, but I’m not stupid. You aren’t telling me something. Out with it. Now.’
