“I didn’t think you liked foolish,” I said.
“I don’t, Emily. But that doesn’t mean I can’t be occasionally diverted by it.”
“Diverted?” My hands, starting to sweat, slipped along my reins.
“Nothing more than that. And certainly nothing alarming.”
“I wasn’t aware that you required—” I stopped, unsure of myself. “I thought we—”
“Don’t go looking for trouble, my dear. You’ll never find any. I’m more devoted than any other husband in England.”
“We’re in France, Colin.”
“I didn’t think you’d be impressed by claims of fidelity in relation to that of the average French husband.”
“You’d better not let Cécile hear you talk like that.”
“She’d be the first to approve,” he said. I laughed and shook my head, knowing he was undoubtedly correct. He leaned towards me and put a steady hand on my arm. “You’ve no need to doubt me on that or any other count. I hope you know that.”
“I do,” I said. “You know I’d trust you to the ends of the earth. But does that mean I’m not allowed to dislike Toinette?”
He laughed. “Of course not.”
We were approaching the château, and I could hear Madeline arguing with a gardener as we crossed the bridge to the main drive. She was begging him to see the merits of keeping bees; he was making no effort even to appear interested in dealing with any stinging insects. I slid down from my horse and handed him off to a waiting groom as Colin did the same. Together we followed Madeline’s voice to a small, informal garden a short distance from the dovecote. I did not let myself look at the looming building.
“We’ll discuss it after the bees arrive,” she said. “Leave me to my guests.” She rushed over and embraced us both with genuine warmth. “It is so good to see you again—your absence was felt keenly. Did you enjoy Zurich?”
“We were in Rouen,” I said, hesitation in my voice.
“Rouen?” She tilted her head and frowned. “But you promised to bring me chocolate.”
“I—” I looked at Colin, unsure what to say.
“There was none even half good enough for you,” he said, stepping forward and kissing her hand. “I fear the Swiss have lowered their standards.”
“I suspected as much,” she said, laughter returning to her voice. “And am glad, then, that you won’t present me with something bound to disappoint.”
“We’d never dream of it,” I said, going along with Colin’s story. “But we do have some news I wanted to discuss with you and George. Is he here?”
“He is. I’ll summon him and we can have tea. You’ve time for a nice long visit, don’t you?”
“We’re in no hurry,” I said.
Colin shot a telling glance at me. “I suppose as long as we’re home in time for dinner.”
“I’m more interested in what will happen after dinner,” I whispered as we started for the house. He drew a sharp breath and nearly lost his footing. He recovered elegantly, though, just as George called out from behind us.
“Ho! Can you wait for me?” he asked, whipping the straw boater from his head and sprinting towards us.
“Don’t make it easy for him,” Madeline cried, giggling. She grabbed Colin’s arm and set off at a fierce pace, pulling him with her while she held onto the brim of her black straw hat to keep it from flying away. Having no desire to run, I waited for the master of the house.
“She’s a beast, that wife of mine,” George said, out of breath when he reached me. “But bloody good fun. Apart from this new obsession of hers, beekeeping.”
“You’ll have excellent honey,” I said.
He laughed. “I suppose so. Have you come about the robbery?”
“Robbery?”
“Have you not heard? We were burgled two nights ago—the Monet is gone.”
“No! Dare I ask if Inspector Gaudet is on the case?”
“He is, my friend, he is. And eager as ever to fight for justice. Unless, of course, it interferes with a meal. Or a party. Or a walk on the beach.”
“Are there any leads?”
“I’m afraid only one that points to your old friend, Sebastian.”
My heart sank. “Why would he take the painting back after having gone to such lengths to get it to you in the first place?” Much though I would have liked to believe Sebastian would stand by the promise he made to Monet about not taking any more of his paintings, I knew him too well to think he’d be true to his word.
“We found another note—this one questioning our taste. Further analysis must have suggested to him our unworthiness as collectors.”
I would need to see the letter, but couldn’t imagine who, other than Sebastian, would pen such a thing. “I’m so sorry. He can be such a troublemaker.”
“It wouldn’t bother me so much if I hadn’t become particularly attached to that painting. A fine specimen.” His gaze softened. “I’ll miss it.”
“We will recover it, one way or another.”
“I do admire your spirit, Emily,” he said. “But tell me now. If you knew nothing of the robbery, what brought you to us?”
“Edith Prier,” I said. “There’s more to the story of her death than we’d anticipated, and we wanted to ask you a few questions.”
“You don’t think the murderer still poses a threat?” he asked, blanching. “I admit I’ve been uncomfortable about letting Madeline out of the house alone. We’ve someone looking out for her all the time.”
“Which is wise,” I said. “Although it does seem there’s no specific threat at the moment.”
“So tell me what more you’ve learned.”
“Did you know Edith is related to your wife?”
“To Madeline?” he asked. “The Priers? That can’t be.”
“From what I understand it’s a distant connection. They’re cousins of some sort.”
“I’m shocked.” He stopped walking and searched my face, confusion written all over his.
“Obviously there was no reason for you to have known this,” I said. “But because Edith suffered from a condition similar to that plaguing your mother-in-law, I thought you should know. Particularly as your wife…” My words trailed.
“Yes, of course you’ve noticed.” He closed his eyes. “I fear what will happen to her. It’s beyond devastating.”
“Edith’s family put her in an asylum not far from Rouen because of her illness.”
He cringed. “I can’t do that to my wife.”
“I’m not suggesting you should,” I said. “Although it might not be a terrible idea to speak with the doctor there—he’s more enlightened than I would have expected. It’s possible he would have some ideas about treatments—something that might help—”
“Of course. I’m sorry if I reacted badly. It’s just that when I think of what my darling girl faces—what I shall be forced to face eventually…” He sighed. “It shatters me.”
“It’s I who should apologize. I sprung this on you with no preamble.”
“No, it’s an excellent suggestion.” He shook his head. “I can’t believe Edith and Madeline…related. It’s stunning news.”
“There’s one more thing. I tell you this in confidence and must ask for your absolute discretion. Edith had a child—a girl—who went missing sometime before her mother’s death. The story’s bound to get out eventually, and I thought it might upset Madeline given her experience with children. Hearing it through gossip might prove painful.”
