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She threw the dish towel at him.
After they had eaten, they washed up the dishes together, Daniel doing his full share this time. Then the discussion could no longer be deferred.
“Look at the lies,” he said gravely. “They’re always more revealing than the truth.”
“Then let’s take the truth we’re sure of, and see what’s left,” she responded. “Tobias Thorwood said he saw—”
“No,” he interrupted. “Didn’t I tell you? Sorry. He lied, to defend his wife, heaven knows why. It was her who said she saw Sidney coming out of Rebecca’s room. And if she is telling the truth, then Sidney was lying about being there.”
“And if he is telling the truth, then she is lying. Why?”
“To cover for who it really was. Or to get Sidney in very deep trouble.”
“Except that the embassy got him away,” Miriam pointed out. “Could she know what they wanted?”
“No idea. Possibly. But why not simply say she had no idea who it was? A stranger she wouldn’t know if she saw him again?”
“So, she wanted to get Sidney into trouble. Or Tobias did. We are back to why.” She frowned. “What threat was Sidney to them?”
“He said he liked Rebecca, but he wasn’t courting her. She wouldn’t marry anyone against their wishes—anyone. The insistence on following him to England, and raking up the embezzlement charge, suggests they aren’t satisfied with ruining his reputation in America. They want more.”
“It seems like that,” she agreed.
“What is it he knows that he doesn’t realize? What comes up if we put together all the pieces? At last we have the center of it. If whoever is guilty is British, then it’s murder and treason.”
She shivered, looking at him with shadowed eyes. “Yes. And what is anyone’s life, compared with that? And the heart of it is here,” she whispered.
“We are going to sleep in the attic tonight. No arguments. And pile a couple of old kitchen chairs on the steps, so if anyone comes, we’ll have plenty of warning.”
She did not argue.
* * *
—
“CHURCH! I FORGOT to buy a hat!” Miriam said with
chagrin.
“Does it matter?” Daniel asked. “I mean—”
“I know what you mean,” she cut him off. “Yes, it does. It’s disrespectful to turn up at someone else’s church service without a hat! That’s spiking my guns before I start!”
Part of him did understand what she meant, but her word picture was too much, and he found himself laughing.
A flush of temper rose up her cheeks, until she saw it, too, and smiled reluctantly. “You know what I mean!”
“Yes, I do. Can’t you borrow one of May’s? All her clothes are still here…” He stopped, realizing that that was tactless in the extreme. Sixty-year-old May’s hats would hardly be what Miriam would be seen in. She might think he saw her as a woman so much older. Now it was his turn to blush, painfully. How could he have been so clumsy? He feared anything he might say now would only make it worse.
She swung round and stalked out of the room, and he heard her feet on the stairs.
He waited, uncertain what to do, feeling miserable out of all proportion to the situation. He had suggested a solution that was tactless, insulting her in a way peculiarly painful to her, which he would have known had he given it a moment’s thought.
The minutes ticked by. Should he go upstairs after her? Would she take his staying in the sitting room as tact, or indifference? Or stupidity, not even understanding what he had done?
He heard her footsteps across the hall. He was so tense his neck ached.
She opened the door and came into the room. She was wearing one of May’s hats. It was made of straw, probably a gardening hat, totally plain, except that Miriam had put a silk scarf around it, very loosely around the brim and up to the crown. She had managed to tie it in a loose knot so that it flowed to one side. It was a deep rose pink, and against her red hair was startling, and perfectly lovely.
