Page 90 of The Case of the Curate

But first, she hurried along the landing toward the drawing room. She could hear voices from farther along in that direction. It sounded as if the party was breaking up. Though she had told Rupert she would speak to Nye there in the company of others, it seemed she was too late.

It didn’t matter. The library was lit by several lamps and branches of candles, but there were, as yet, no other occupants. She hoped she was right and that Nye would come here as usual. As long as his sister did not accompany him, she would be able to lead him easily away from anyone else into a cozy corner where they would not be overheard.

In fact, she was fortunate, for Nye ambled in on his own, yawning. He didn’t notice her at first, merely made directly for the brandy decanter and poured himself a large one before he settled with it in the chair by the fire. He opened the book that lay there, though he clearly had no intention of reading it, for with a contented sigh, he rested his head against the back of his chair and raised the glass to his lips.

Over its rim, his eyes met hers and he sprang to his feet rather more spryly than she might have expected, the brandy sloshing precariously in its glass, while the book slid to the floor. His eyes were wide with surprise—and then narrowed with naked, growing lust.

For the first time, she wondered if she could actually deal with him. If Rupert was right, then even Dinah, wise in the ways of men and rougher streets than Kate had ever frequented, had needed a sharp dagger to fend him off.

“Feeling better, my dear?” he said gloatingly. “Tired of waiting for me this evening?”

“Oh, no, but I do need to speak to you. Do sit down and enjoy your brandy, Sir Colin. There is something I want to ask you. About your sister.”

Sir Colin blinked and sat back down. “Sophie? Why the deuce would you want to talk about her?”

“Well, I believe there is a connection between her and the maid Dinah who collapsed on Tuesday evening.”

“Connection?” Nye said in astonishment. “Between my sister and a housemaid?”

“And you, sir. Did Dinah not unpack your bags for you when you first arrived at Chadbon Court?”

“How the deuce should I know?”

“You know,” Kate said dryly. “She was a very beautiful young woman.”

Nye glared at her, as certain men did to intimidate the weak. There was scorn and threat and utter superiority in that look. He was the political giant, she the young, inexperienced wife of a rising but powerless opposition politician.

However, she had grown up among men with large personalities, not least her own father and brothers and Lord Winster himself. She knew better than to let herself be intimidated. There were other weapons.

She smiled without lowering her eyes. “Sir Colin, it is hardly my place to accuse or to judge. I am concerned that some interaction between you and Dinah was witnessed by Miss Nye—some threat of Dinah’s, perhaps? Based, I’m sure, on misunderstanding.”

On the contrary, she was pretty sure Dinah had understood perfectly, but it gave Sir Colin a way out.

“Barely touched the girl,” he blustered. “Merely a friendly pat for dealing with the baggage for Sophie as well as for me. She reacted like a mad thing, if you must know. Swung on me wielding a dagger!”

Kate’s heart was thundering. She felt slightly sick. “Did you tell anyone about this incident?”

“No,” he said reluctantly. His eyes dropped. “In the end, I did not. Sophie said she would deal with it quietly. Seemed best.”

“What did Miss Nye do?”

Nye shrugged. “Spoke to the girl, I suppose—I don’t know. It’s what Sophie does—deals with things.”

“I can imagine… Tell me, sir, for Dinah to react to you in such an extreme way—had you ever encountered this maid before? At Chadbon House in London, perhaps? I know you and His Lordship are old friends.”

“I may have seen her there,” Nye said carelessly, though a certain mottled color was seeping into his face. It was answer enough. No doubt Lady Chadbon had brought Dinah to the country to keep her out of Nye’s way. Another tragedy.

Kate struggled to keep the distaste from her voice, but she needed to know. “Did your sister know about that previous incident?”

“Good God, I don’t subject my sister to such tales!”

But she had guessed, Kate thought grimly. For a maid to turn on the guest of her employer wielding a dagger, there had to have been a serious reason. Not that Nye’s original assault would have touched his standing or his career if it had been known. But the maid fending Sir Colin Nye off with a dagger… Had that become known, had Dinah blabbed to the wrong people, then the ridicule around Westminster and the gentlemen’s clubs would have been considerable, possible even ruinous.

“Has Miss Nye dealt with such situations before?” Kate asked.

“Never been in such a situation before!” Nye snapped. “What do you take me for?”

A serial lecher. Possibly even a rapist.