Page 84 of A Rogue at Stonecliffe

“Where the devil have you been?” Sloane snapped. “You were supposed to stay at Stonecliffe, not go running off after God knows what.”

“It was clear nothing was going to happen there,” Verity replied, closing the door and coming to sit down with them. “He can verify that.” She nodded toward Nathan. “Either no one believed your ruse, Sloane, or they decided they’d have no luck going after Annabeth at Stonecliffe. We strolled around that garden twice a day, and not once did anyone attack us.”

“We were both quite disappointed,” Nathan agreed. “Perhaps I less so than Verity. I think she would have preferred getting kidnapped again over having to sit through another dinner discussing upcoming debutantes’ coming out balls.”

“That’s not even a contest. Though I did enjoy besting you in our colorful debates.”

“Colorful debates? Is that what we are now labeling your browbeatings?” The twinkle in Nathan’s eyes stole the edge from his words.

Verity gave Nathan a cool look and went on, “So, have you two managed to come up with anything?”

“We found the confession.” Sloane told her everything they had learned the last few days, beginning with the discovery of Hunter Winfield’s murder and ending with the contents of the confession.

Verity leaned forward, her eyes bright with interest, as she listened to the tale. “So you think that the other man involved in the curricle wreck is also the turncoat Asquith is looking for?”

“He seems the likeliest suspect,” Sloane said.

“Aside from you, of course,” Nathan told Verity. He cast a sardonic look at Sloane. “It’s a trifle strange that you are giving all this information to someone you suspect is a traitor.”

“Me?” Verity raised her eyebrows.

“I never said I thought Verity was the master spy inside the network,” Sloane pointed out. “I just said we had to consider every suspect.”

“Well, yes, you would have to,” Verity agreed calmly.

“And that doesn’t bother you?” Nathan asked. “That your friend and colleague mistrusted you?”

Verity shrugged. “I would have done the same in that situation. You can get killed trusting the wrong person in our line of work.” Verity turned back to Sloane. “This man who was racing Mr. Winfield—do you have any possibilities?”

“My father gave us the names of a few. One of them is dead. The likeliest one unfortunately has the name of Smythe, with no idea of the first. Marcus is helpful as always in that respect.” Sloane shook his head. “Also a military man named Alexander, and a noted whip named Jamie Kidlington. Do any of those names mean anything to you? Have you ever heard of them in connection with Asquith’s organization?”

Verity shook her head. “There’s a Smith or two, of course, which may or may not be their real name. But not Smythe. I can look into this military fellow. One of my contacts is high up in the army.”

“I thought Nathan could look into Kidlington.” Sloane turned to the other man. “You can move in the same circles as he. I couldn’t get in the door of a gentleman’s club.”

Nathan looked startled but said, “Yes, of course. I’ll be glad to.”

“There are a couple of more possibilities—rather more sensitive situations. One is Mr. Winfield’s good friend, Russell Feringham.”

“It’s not him,” Annabeth said.

“We have to consider him, Annabeth. Marcus said he did race sometimes when he was in his cups.”

“Yes, but you know what he’s like. A cold-blooded killer? A master spy?”

“I don’t suppose one could be a master spy if one were obvious,” Sloane countered. “There are some things that point to him. For one thing, he was at his country home when someone took a shot at you. He knew we were interested in your father’s puzzle boxes. He knew you intended to look at your father’s workshop. He returned to London after only a few days.”

“So did we,” Annabeth said.

“That is exactly my point. It’s a little odd, isn’t it, that he stayed so little time?”

“Grandmother did the same at Stonecliffe.”

“Yes, but I think we can be certain she wasn’t targeting you,” Nathan cut in.

“Uncle Russell couldn’t have tried to kill me,” Annabeth protested. “He’s been so kind to me. He was always there to help us after my father died.” Seeing the look on Sloane’s face, she said, “And don’t tell me that he came over to the house and helped us clear out Papa’s things just so he could look for the confession.”

“He also wanted to look through your father’s things from the town house.”