He didn't like this at all. He turned on his heel and went back downstairs.
Meggie awoke the next morning, still alone. No sign of Thomas. She wondered if he'd even come to bed at all. Then she remembered what had happened.
She closed her eyes and tried not to think about Marie Leach. She looked about the bedchamber and didn't like it. It was dark, the furnishings heavy, Spanish in flavor, she believed, having visited a Senor Alvarez in his home in London during her Season the past spring.
She looked toward the windows, not seeing the heavy draperies, but rather Marie Leach, and she was dead and it was perfectly horrible.
Thomas knocked lightly then quietly opened the door to see his wife sitting on the side of the bed, her face in her hands, sobbing, great ugly sobs that seemed to bow her utterly.
He strode to the bed, picked her up, and carried her to the large winged chair beside the fireplace. He sat down and settled her on his lap. He held her for a very long time.
She felt in those moments that she was once again with the man she'd enjoyed so very much before they'd married, the man who'd never hesitated to comfort her, to laugh with her, to simply appreciate what and who she was.
'Thank you,' she said, and straightened up. She was knuckling her eyes with her fists, and it made him smile.
'You're welcome. It's morning. A maid is waiting in the hall to assist you. We will spend the day here. This business with Bernard and his wife, it's a mystery and Mr. Billings hasn't a notion where to begin.'
'And you do?'
'Yes. I wish to speak at great length with Bernard. I will ask the local physician to look at Mrs. Leach.'
'But why? Didn't she die by strangulation?'
'Perhaps not.'
'I will speak to the stable lad.'
A thorny problem, Thomas thought, and cleared his throat. He said, 'That won't be possible.'
'Why not?' She was off his lap in an instant, standing there in front of him, frowning, her hands on her hips, that white nightgown of hers flowing from the throat down to her toes. 'I could question him as well as you could. I will even have Tim there with me.'
'The stable lad is gone. Tim is looking after Pen and the carriage horses. Tim said he must have left while he was asleep, probably fearing he'd be blamed.'
'Oh.'
'Sorry to take the wind out of your sails.'
'You have surprised me, true enough. Do you believe the stable lad knew what had happened even while he was leading your horse to the stables?'
'If he did, then it would mean that he must have been involved. I will ask Bernard about the lad's family-'
'Ah, and then I will go speak to them, find out where he is.'
'Perhaps. Now, I will meet you downstairs for breakfast.'
Life had turned very strange, Meggie was thinking as the maid, Tossa-a Spanish name, she told Meggie when asked, handed down from an ancestor who'd been flung up on the southern Cornish coast during the wreck of the great Spanish Armada during the reign of Good Queen Bess-helped her bathe, arranged her hair and her clothes. Tossa told her Squire Billings was all bluff and no brain, but a good man even so. When Meggie emerged nearly an hour later, she looked like a lady, and it was a good feeling.
She heard Mr. Billings's voice as she eased into the dining room.
'I say, my lord, I know all about the Grakers, they're bad, there's no question about that. I didn't know that Bernard had killed one of them. However did he manage it? It's rare to see one. I've never heard of actually catching one.'
'I will find out,' said Thomas. 'Bernard told me it was an accident.'
'Ah, here's some more eggs for you, my lord.'
'Thank you. This is my wife, Squire, Lady Lancaster.
We appreciate your hospitality.' Thomas rose from his chair, followed by Squire Billings, who gave her a brief bow and a fat smile.
'Good morning,' Meggie said as she eased into the chair opposite her husband, held out for her by a butler with trembling hands, who was so pale he looked nearly dead. Squire Billings said matter-of-factly, seeing the countess's alarm, 'Elroy is distraught. He finds death, particularly violent unexpected death, very upsetting to his innards. Fetch her ladyship some eggs and toast, Elroy. Try not to think of Mrs. Leach, and whatever you do, don't drop the tray anywhere close to her ladyship.'
'It were a bad thing, sir,' Elroy said, hands trembling even more, 'a more terrible thing than I could imagine,' and left to fetch the food.
'You are newly wedded,' Squire Billings said between mouthfuls of kippers. 'A miserable thing to have happen. Ah well, at least you had your first night together in relative peace and calm, eh?' Squire Billings actually leered, most of it, thankfully, behind his napkin, but Thomas still wanted to kick him.
Meggie realized what he'd said, fastened her eyes on the scrambled eggs, and said, 'Ha.' She spent a good minute buttering her toast and decorating it with some gooseberry jam.
Thomas said, 'I was taking-my wife home this morning, but given what has happened, we will remain here at least for today.'
'I would indeed appreciate your assistance in this dreadful matter, my lord. Nothing like this has ever happened before.'
Thomas nodded, took a final drink of coffee, neatly folded his napkin, and laid it beside his plate. He rose, saying, 'Meggie I don't know how long this will take. You will amuse yourself.'
She wanted to shoot him, but she merely smiled, tossed her own napkin down, and rose as well. 'I have decided to accompany you, Thomas.' And the look she gave him dared him to order her to stay, like a damned dog.
She turned to their host. 'Thank you very much for your hospitality, Squire Billings. Do you wish to accompany my husband and me on our inquiries? There are so many people to speak to who might know about what happened last night at the Hangman's Noose.'
Squire Billings sputtered his coffee onto his necktie. 'Well, as for that, I'm not a young man, you know, my lady, and who's to say what-'
'If it is not too difficult for you, I would ask that you speak to your staff, sir,' Thomas said as smooth as the butter he'd spread on his toast. 'This evening we will all compare what we have learned. Meggie, fetch your cloak and bonnet.'
That evening at eight o'clock, Squire Billings knew nothing more than what he'd known at breakfast. He'd had to hunt, he told Lord and Lady Lancaster, looking not a whit apologetic, aye, a full day of it, and he'd been desperately fatigued upon his return and had to nap before dinner. He had asked Elroy to conduct interviews with the staff, but the butler was still too overcome, and besides, what would his staff know?
As for Thomas and Meggie, they'd found out two things: the local doctor had told them that Marie Leach was unconscious from a blow to the head before she was hung, maybe even already dead, and Bernard Leach had packed up and left the Hangman's Noose suddenly, and no one knew where he'd gone. Nothing more. Even the stable lad had gone missing.
'Did Bernard go missing because he murdered his wife or because he was too scared to stay?'
It was an excellent question, the only one Thomas had ever heard from Squire Billing, and there was no answer.
It was late when Thomas came into the bedchamber. Meggie was sitting up in the big heavy bed, three pillows behind her back, a candle burning on a small table at her elbow. She appeared to be reading.
She looked up when he came into the room, watched him close the door quietly behind him, watched him set his candle down on the dressing table, then straighten and turn to face her.
She cocked her head to one side and said, 'Hello, my lord. What do you want?'
'What are you reading?'
'John Locke. He isn't very amusing.'
