to parole, perhaps in Lady Royce’s care, or sent out of the country for your lifetime.”
“Botany Bay?” she asked with a gasp. “Few men live through the voyage there, fewer women.”
“No, I meant India or the colonies. Or even one of my father’s outflung properties.”
“But I could not live as your family’s pensioner. Or subject your mother to social death here in London.” She turned toward Daniel. “You saw what happened over your little faux pas. Lady Royce would be ostracized if she harbored a confessed killer.” She raised her chin. “I am not guilty. I shall not confess.”
“Very well. If you are not guilty, who is? Do you know?”
“No. I have been racking my brains, and I cannot think of a single person. I did not know my stepfather’s associates. He seldom entertained at home, and whatever business he conducted would have been at his clubs. “
“What about the butler?” Daniel wanted to know. “It’s always the butler, isn’t it, except when it is a jealous spouse.”
“Hareston is a fussy, sneaky sort, who would never have left the gun on the floor.”
“Perhaps you surprised him and he panicked.”
“But why would he shoot his employer, putting himself out of work?”
“Why indeed?” Rex asked, searching in the countess’s escritoire for a pencil and paper. He ignored the small packet of letters tied with a blue ribbon in one of the upper drawers. They looked suspiciously like the twice yearly letters of obligation he had sent in reply to birthday and Christmas gifts. He slammed that drawer shut and found what he wanted in a lower one. “And we can leave your stepsister and her aunt off the list because I understand they stayed on at Almack’s until someone sent for them, after the Watch arrived. Odd.”
“No, I doubt they noticed I was gone.”
“That caring of you, eh?” Daniel wanted to know, looking like thunderclouds. He would not have let his sister out of his sight in London.
“My stepsister was too excited about her first evening at Almack’s, and her aunt, Miss Hermione Hawley, Sir Frederick’s sister, was sitting with the chaperones, scrutinizing the eligible bachelors. Elaine cares for me.”
“Yet she did not help you when you were arrested.” That was a statement from Lord Rexford, not another question.
Amanda glared at him. “She is seventeen. What should she have done? And her father was dead, horribly. I think someone told me that she and Miss Hawley left London the next day, conveying the baronet’s body to his family’s cemetery in Hampshire.”
“Very well, they are not suspects or witnesses. Why do you not start in the beginning.”
“But I have told my story over and over again. Surely you have heard all the details from the newspaper and the servants and town gossip.”
Daniel was nodding, but Rexford did not pay attention, making notations on his pad. “I need to hear it from your own mouth because proving innocence in this case is going to be far harder than proving guilt.”
“But I did not commit the crime!”
“I know.” He touched her hand, then jerked his away, as if he had not meant to touch her. “But think on this. What, say, if your pearls were in question? You can prove you have a set by the necklace itself, or a bill of sale.”
“They were my mother’s.”
“A will, then, or a houseful of servants recalling them. Easy proof. But what if someone said you had a diamond necklace?”
“I do not. Sir Frederick sold it and my mother’s other jewelry, to pay for her doctors, he claimed.”
“Ah, but you could have sold the necklace, or tossed it in the dustbin. Then it would be your word against the prosecutor’s case.”
Amanda fingered the pearls at her throat. “I see.”
He nodded. “The negative is far harder to prove, but it is not impossible. Now start at the beginning of the unfortunate events. No, start with your life with Sir Frederick and his household.”
So Amanda told him about her
“Botany Bay?” she asked with a gasp. “Few men live through the voyage there, fewer women.”
“No, I meant India or the colonies. Or even one of my father’s outflung properties.”
“But I could not live as your family’s pensioner. Or subject your mother to social death here in London.” She turned toward Daniel. “You saw what happened over your little faux pas. Lady Royce would be ostracized if she harbored a confessed killer.” She raised her chin. “I am not guilty. I shall not confess.”
“Very well. If you are not guilty, who is? Do you know?”
“No. I have been racking my brains, and I cannot think of a single person. I did not know my stepfather’s associates. He seldom entertained at home, and whatever business he conducted would have been at his clubs. “
“What about the butler?” Daniel wanted to know. “It’s always the butler, isn’t it, except when it is a jealous spouse.”
“Hareston is a fussy, sneaky sort, who would never have left the gun on the floor.”
“Perhaps you surprised him and he panicked.”
“But why would he shoot his employer, putting himself out of work?”
“Why indeed?” Rex asked, searching in the countess’s escritoire for a pencil and paper. He ignored the small packet of letters tied with a blue ribbon in one of the upper drawers. They looked suspiciously like the twice yearly letters of obligation he had sent in reply to birthday and Christmas gifts. He slammed that drawer shut and found what he wanted in a lower one. “And we can leave your stepsister and her aunt off the list because I understand they stayed on at Almack’s until someone sent for them, after the Watch arrived. Odd.”
“No, I doubt they noticed I was gone.”
“That caring of you, eh?” Daniel wanted to know, looking like thunderclouds. He would not have let his sister out of his sight in London.
“My stepsister was too excited about her first evening at Almack’s, and her aunt, Miss Hermione Hawley, Sir Frederick’s sister, was sitting with the chaperones, scrutinizing the eligible bachelors. Elaine cares for me.”
“Yet she did not help you when you were arrested.” That was a statement from Lord Rexford, not another question.
Amanda glared at him. “She is seventeen. What should she have done? And her father was dead, horribly. I think someone told me that she and Miss Hawley left London the next day, conveying the baronet’s body to his family’s cemetery in Hampshire.”
“Very well, they are not suspects or witnesses. Why do you not start in the beginning.”
“But I have told my story over and over again. Surely you have heard all the details from the newspaper and the servants and town gossip.”
Daniel was nodding, but Rexford did not pay attention, making notations on his pad. “I need to hear it from your own mouth because proving innocence in this case is going to be far harder than proving guilt.”
“But I did not commit the crime!”
“I know.” He touched her hand, then jerked his away, as if he had not meant to touch her. “But think on this. What, say, if your pearls were in question? You can prove you have a set by the necklace itself, or a bill of sale.”
“They were my mother’s.”
“A will, then, or a houseful of servants recalling them. Easy proof. But what if someone said you had a diamond necklace?”
“I do not. Sir Frederick sold it and my mother’s other jewelry, to pay for her doctors, he claimed.”
“Ah, but you could have sold the necklace, or tossed it in the dustbin. Then it would be your word against the prosecutor’s case.”
Amanda fingered the pearls at her throat. “I see.”
He nodded. “The negative is far harder to prove, but it is not impossible. Now start at the beginning of the unfortunate events. No, start with your life with Sir Frederick and his household.”
So Amanda told him about her
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