Page 136 of The Marriage Method

“All I know is she left on the train,” Mrs. Virtue said. “Wouldn’t take any servants with her. She was afraid someone might report back to her brother. It were simple enough, she told me, to travel straight to London. She planned to hire a cab at the railway station when she arrived to take her to the solicitor’s office.”

Nell’s stomach sank. She thought of what had happened to Flora Brent at the railway station. Is that what had happened to Jane Fawn-Purvis? Had she arrived alone and vulnerable only to be intercepted by Mrs. Pritchard?

“Did she tell you why she wanted to keep her appointment from her brother?” Miles asked. “Was it because she suspected him of something?”

“I know nothing of what she suspected,” Mrs. Virtue answered. “Naturally, I have my own suspicions, but I’ll not give voice to them. I have no intention of finding myself jailed for slander, or libel, or whatever it would be.”

“If what you have to say is the truth, no one can prosecute you for making it known,” Miles said.

The housekeeper shook her head. Her mouth was set in a mulish line. “It’s a small world in this part of Hertfordshire, and I have my livelihood to think of. I’ll not be caught maligning the new baron or that good-for-nothing valet of his, no matter what they might have done.”

“You believe they did something to Miss Fawn-Purvis?” Nell asked.

“Someone must have, mustn’t they?” Mrs. Virtue retorted. “Jane Fawn-Purvis left on that train for London. But she never came back, did she? And no lawyer ever came down here after her. It’s only her brother who claims to know what happened to her. And how could he, I ask?”

“How could he, indeed,” Nell replied grimly.

• • • • •

Miles and Nell returned to Northwick Hall in the early hours of the afternoon. Their journey back was largely made in silence, both of them privately pondering the implications of what they’d learned from Mrs. Virtue.

It was only as they rolled up the drive to the stone stable block at the hall that Nell finally spoke. “I suppose we must hand it all over to Inspector Garrick,” she said in a tone of defeat.

Miles liked it no better than she did. Every fiber of his being was urging him to continue chasing the story. To keep going until he’d run Amstead, Innes, and Mrs. Pritchard to ground and held them to account for whatever they’d done to Cowgill and Miss Fawn-Purvis. Not to mention Miss Brent.

But there was more at stake here than his desire for a story. He had Nell to think of now. Her safety eclipsed every other concern.

“It would be the wisest course,” he said. “Someone will have to question Amstead, and he’s not likely to provide answers if that questioner is a newspaperman.”

Nell clutched to the padded bench seat as the gig bounced over the gravel. “It’s too dreadful. To think that he might have done this to his own sister. To have gotten rid of her so callously. And working with the likes of Mrs. Pritchard, too. How on earth would a gentleman of his stature even have come into contact with such a person?”

“You forget that, until recently, Mrs. Pritchard was the proprietor of a gentlemen’s establishment.”

“I know that. My point is, Lord Amstead never goes to London. He’d have had no opportunity to avail himself of her offerings. If he does know her, they’d have had to meet some other way.”

“We shall have to leave it to Garrick,” Miles said.

He guided the horse to the entrance of the stables, bringing the gig to a halt. No groom emerged to meet them. Most of the outdoor staff were off on the shoot with Lord Amstead and the other gentlemen. But not all of them. There had been a lone lad present this morning when Miles and Nell had departed. It was he who had hitched up the gig for them.

“What is it?” Nell asked.

“No groom,” Miles said.

“He’s probably in the kitchen having a cup of tea.”

Miles gazed up at the main house, frowning. “Possibly.”

“I can go up and fetch him if you like,” Nell suggested. “I could use the exercise.”

“You’re not going anywhere on this property on your own,” Miles said. “I’ll put the horse away myself. We can walk back together.”

Tying off the reins, he jumped from the gig and came around to assist her down. He set her lightly on the ground. She stood back, holding her cane loosely in her hand, while he unhitched the horse from the gig. When he’d finished, she walked alongside him as he led the horse into the stables.

The interior was dark, save for the shafts of sunlight that shone through the doors. Some of the horses knickered in greeting to their returning friend as Miles settled him into an empty loose box. It was the work of a moment. A few seconds, merely, during which Miles’s back was turned.

It was long enough.

He was just securing the door when a noise sounded behind him. He spun around in the same instant a figure sprang from the shadows and grabbed Nell by her throat.