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Isaac shrugged and looked at Estelle. “You see? First impressions make us look like an ordinary family, but if you wait around long enough all of our ghosts come out of the closet. Nobody likes each other very much, really. We are always bickering and sniping at each other.”
“How long do you think the storm is going to last?” she asked, hoping that a change of subject would stop everyone being so horrible to each other. When Beatrice snorted disparagingly, though, Estelle realised she was going to be drawn into another scornful tirade.
“We are all stuck here because of dear Barnabas,” she snapped, looking piqued. “He refuses to move into the present century and instead prefers to live in the dark ages. I mean, the Vikings aren’t going to attack but he refuses to fill that ridiculous moat in. Every time it rains, almost without fail the damned place floods and everyone is stranded. I have forgotten how many times I have traipsed all the way over here only to find it has been raining and nobody can get across that ridiculous contrivance to go home again.”
“My grandma will be worried,” Estelle replied weakly. Horribly aware that this was the truth, Estelle lapsed into worried silence and began to fret about what was going on at home.
Myles and Barnabas were crossing the hallway when Vernon descended the stairs. His lips moved in a silent monologue as he approached them but he didn’t utter a sound. It was clear from the strange, far-away expression in his eyes that he had no idea he was no longer alone.
Myles coughed discretely to draw his attention. Eventually, Vernon realised they were there, and stared at them avidly as he descended the final few stairs and walked toward them.
“Alright?” Myles asked. He stood back to let Vernon pass, but the man halted several feet away.
“Yes. Yes. Deuced odd, I don’t mind saying,” Vernon mumbled. “Dueced odd. The lights are back, you see? You do see, don’t you? You do. I know you do. They will get closer this time. I know they will. I have been told. They told me.”
Myles nodded. He knew from past experience not to interrupt one of Vernon’s ramblings. Instead, he waved a hand toward the study. “I need you to come and sit with us for a moment. Something important has happened this morning, Vernon, and it involves everyone in this house.”
Vernon scowled at him but didn’t argue. He meekly followed them into the sitting room where everyone else was waiting.
Estelle stared at the stranger who entered, but her attention was then immediately captured by the man who followed him into the room. The moment she laid eyes on Myles, everything seemed to become right in her world again. Her earlier restlessness settled in an instant. Stunned at the force of the emotions that swept through her, Estelle stared at him.
Myles sighed with relief when he saw Estelle standing beside the fireplace. She looked so right set amongst his family, in his home, that he couldn’t prevent himself from crossing the room toward her. Carefully ignoring the curious looks of the room’s other occupants, he captured her hands in his and he tugged her gently to one side of the room.
“How have you been?” He murmured gently.
Estelle glowed beneath his tender concern. “I am alright. How are you? I hope it has not been too troublesome?”
Myles shook his head, touched by her worry for him. “I am alright.”
“Have you found anything out?” she asked curiously.
Myles shook his head. “The servants rarely work alone it seems, and all of them have someone who can vouch for them.”
“Nobody has been outside then?” Her hopes were dashed when Myles shook his head. “So someone has been in the house but hid outside while we were searching for them.”
Myles knew it wasn’t a question but answered it anyway. He suspected she needed the reassurance having honest answers would give her.
“It looks that way, yes. It appears that the killer is one of us,” Myles said.
Estelle nodded. Her gaze fell to their hands. His fingers were curled protectively around hers creating a connection unlike any other she had felt before. Something warm settled deep in the pit of her belly and began to unfurl. She knew that Myles was not the killer. That deep, instinctive connection she felt which drew her continuously toward him refused to even consider the possibility that Myles could be so callous. Toward her, he had been nothing more than a perfect gentleman who had behaved with the upmost decorum, tenderness, and care. It wasn’t possible for someone like him to be a murderer, she just knew it.
“I need to speak with the family to explain what happens now. Until then, try to ignore Isaac. He is grieving in his own way but has a few questions of his own to answer. At some point throughout the evening we are going to have to question everybody on what they have been doing since they got up this morning,” he explained. “Unfortunately, that includes you.”
“I don’t mind,” she assured him. “If it helps to catch whoever did this then I will help in any way I can.”
“Just don’t go wandering off alone either,” he warned her. “Nobody in this house is to be trusted yet.”
Her eyes met his. A wealth of understanding flowed between them. “Even you?” she whispered, not meaning it.
“Even me,” he replied, but softened his statement with a rueful smile.
“I know you didn’t do it,” she whispered and threw him a chiding look.
“Oh? How so?” he challenged.
Estelle hesitated. “Well, this is your house,” she replied. “It would be incredibly foolish of you to ask someone to call at the house and then kill them, wouldn’t it?”
Myles opened his mouth to speak and then closed it again without a snap. He nodded, impressed with her logic but worried nonetheless. “I understand what you are saying but it is still not wise to discount anybody in this, not even those who appear completely innocent. However, I promise you that I am innocent. Ergo, we nee
