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“Yes, you know him? Good friend, Skippy. We met earlier today at the Cock Pit, must have lost it then.”
“Ah, yes, I was there myself…and saw you there. Indeed, perhaps you dropped it when you were with the viscount,” Sir Owen murmured pulling at his lower lip thoughtfully.
“What does it matter, anyway?” Ned shrugged. “I don’t see that it matters.”
“It matters, or it will when the authorities arrive tomorrow and ask us all to produce the notes we had from Miss Brinley,” Sir Owen replied curtly.
“Devil fly away with such nonsense. It has naught to do with…”
“Indeed,” Mandy put in. “I don’t see this point of questioning. It brings us no closer to understanding who could have killed our cousin or why.”
Ned’s face brightened as he produced a crumpled piece of paper and held it up, “Here is the missive she sent asking me to come!” He sounded almost triumphant and Mandy understood. Thus far, the questions both Alfred and Sir Owen were shooting in her brother’s direction felt almost accusatory.
She took the crumpled paper from him and perused it, “Here, indeed, she asks Ned to meet her at six thirty, saying it is urgent, nothing more.”
Sir Owen put his hand out for the note and Mandy eyed him quizzically but did finally hand it over. Why shouldn’t she, she thought. She and her brother had nothing to hide.
He looked at it only a moment and said, “This is in a different hand than the one that I have.”
Mandy turned to Ned, “Who brought you this note?”
“Her maid,” he said frowning.
Mandy went directly to the bell pull and gave it a hard tug. A moment later, a lackey appeared, and she requested him to ask Celia’s ladies’ maid to present herself in the library.
While they were waiting Sir Owen said quietly, “I believe the doctor will have more news for us tomorrow. You see, Celia confided in me earlier this week. She told me she was in a bit of a predicament because she was with child but she wouldn’t tell me who the father was.” He looked at Ned. “Did you know anything about this?”
Ned’s eyes opened wide and he turned to his sister and said, “I swear, I have never been with her…not like that…”
“And yet, she hinted to me that Ned here was the father,” Sir Owen returned gravely.
Ned turned angry eyes on him, “Fiend seize you, Sir Owen. How dare you accuse me of such a thing! What sort of scoundrel are you making me out to be? Damn, but I have a notion to call you out!”
Mandy stepped between the two before her brother could do something rash. “Stop, Neddy, I don’t believe it for a moment. Celica, poor soul, was working one of her schemes, nothing more.” She turned on Sir Owen, her cheeks felt as hot as she was sure they must look and she wagged a finger. “I thought you a friend. I realize now, how very wrong I was. A friend would know better…know better in his heart! A friend would not speak of insinuations which are not fact. A friend would not put that friend’s brother under suspicion without cold hard facts and you do not have them. You have conjecture and I think it is time for you to take Alfred and go.”
He stepped toward her, “Please, Miss Amanda…do not turn away from me. I am only pointing out what will be said on the morrow. The question had to be asked. I never thought it true. I still do not think it true. I had come to understand Celia and her machinations and still the question had to be asked. If she spoke to me, she surely made mention of this to another.”
“Indeed,” said Alfred. “I believe she hinted the same to me.”
Mandy rounded on him. She knew he was lying. Why was he doing so? Was he afraid suspicion might be cast upon himself? Were they trying to set Ned up as their scapegoat? She wouldn’t have it. “Not true and do not try and tell me otherwise. I know better, Alfred.”
He started to answer her, apparently thought better of it and kept quiet.
Sir Owen said sadly, “By now, I am certain the good doctor has already reported Miss Celia’s murder to the local magistrate and I believe it will be left for him to sort out.”
“M’father is a magistrate as well. He works with magistrate Connors, he does and he will be very upset,” Alfred stuck in worriedly.
A knock sounded and all eyes turned to find the lackey nervously fidgeting from one foot to the other. His eyes were wide with the news as he called out, “Miss Amanda, ‘tis Elly, Elly Bonner—Miss Brinley’s maid. She up and left. Took her things, she did. Gone, she be gone.”
Mandy’s brows went up before she compose
d herself and thanked her servant, waited for him to leave and turned to the assembled company.
“Why on earth would she take off like that?”
“They will say Ned here paid her to go,” Alfred said. “This is going to be a scandal and m’father won’t like it. Not one bit.”
“Do shut up, Alfred,” Mandy turned on him.
