“No!” Lizzie was shocked. “He said nothing to me,” she said. “But then, we did not talk much. He was usually either drunk or asleep.”
“We need to ask you some questions, Lizzie,” Nat said gently. He released her hand and straightened up and Lizzie felt shockingly bereft. She desperately wanted him to hold her so that she could take comfort from him but knew she could not without showing how much she needed him.
“Of course,” she said. “Here? Now?”
“That is up to you,” Nat said. “If you were rather it was in private-”
Lizzie looked at Laura and Alice and Lydia. “I would rather have the support of my friends about me,” she said, and saw Lydia and Laura smile. Alice squeezed her hand and sat down beside her.
“Tell us what happened last night,” Miles said. He glanced at Nat. “We know that you were at the dinner held by Sir James and Lady Wheeler.”
“We all were,” Lizzie said. “Monty, Tom and I.” She glanced unconsciously at Nat, wondering how much he had already told Dexter and Miles.
“Monty was drunk when he came back from dinner last night,” she said. “I asked Spencer, his valet, to make him comfortable and then to leave him to sleep it off.”
Dexter nodded. “Spencer told us the same. He said that he and the footman between them managed to get Sir Montague up the stairs and onto his bed. They did not attempt to undress him but left him to sleep.”
“Did you retire yourself after that?” Miles questioned.
“I did,” Lizzie said. She looked at him. “I’m sorry, Miles. I heard nothing. I can’t believe-” She stopped. “My room is at the end of the corridor,” she said, “so an intruder would not need to pass it to reach Monty’s chamber. That is probably why I knew nothing of it.” It almost beggared belief, though, that someone had crept along those uneven treads of the landing on their way to stab Sir Montague to death. Lizzie shuddered and felt Nat shift beside her. He was standing by her chair, one hand resting protectively on the back of it. Lizzie wanted to touch him in order to draw strength from him but once again she denied herself the comfort. She knew she could not do it, not without giving her feelings away not only to Nat himself but also to all her friends.
“You did not go to Sir Montague’s room this morning?” Miles continued.
“No,” Lizzie said. “The door was closed. I did not want to disturb him. It was not unusual for him to sleep until noon or beyond if he had had too much wine the previous night.”
Miles nodded. “And Tom?” He asked. “Did he come back with Sir Montague?”
“No,” Lizzie said. She flicked a look at Lydia. She did not want to add to her friend’s bitterness or misery if she could help it. Although Lydia had no illusions about Tom now, it was quite another thing to talk of his conquests in front of her.
“I do not think Tom came back last night,” she said quickly. “I do not know where he was or with whom.”
Dexter and Miles exchanged a look. Miles got up and walked across the terrace before turning back. Lizzie felt her nerves tighten further. She could feel the tension in Nat, too, wound tight as a spring.
“The servants,” Miles said slowly, “tell us that ten days ago, on the Friday, someone called on Sir Montague late in the evening. They could not tell us who it was but they heard raised voices in the library and thought Sir Montague might be quarreling with someone. Were you present, Lizzie?”
Lizzie closed her eyes for a moment.
She felt Nat shift again and fiercely resisted the urge to look at him. On that Friday night she had been locked in the folly with him, lost to everything but the touch of his hands on her naked skin, the taste of him and the absolute searing need to make love with him…She swallowed hard.
“I know nothing of any visitors,” she said carefully. “I am sorry, I cannot help you.”
Miles’s hazel gaze was very keen on her face and Lizzie could feel herself blushing as though she was guilty of the murder herself.
“But you were at Fortune Hall that night?” Miles said.
“I…” Lizzie hesitated, unwilling to lie. “I was…I saw that Monty had had a visitor because there were two wineglasses on the library table, but…” Again she hesitated, seeing that the more she tried to help the deeper she was digging herself into trouble.
“Lizzie was with me that night,” Nat said. He took a deep breath. “She was with me last night as well, before Sir Montague returned home. I can vouch for the fact that after we talked she helped her brother inside the house.”
There was a very long silence. Miles looked at Dexter and raised his brows. Laura and Lydia and Alice also looked at each other and then, simultaneously, looked at Lizzie. The atmosphere was suddenly alive with speculation though no one said a single word.
Lizzie bit her lip hard. A wash of panic took her, depriving her of breath, followed by a second wash of fury. She looked at Nat. His expression was dark and unyielding.
“For pity’s sake, Nat,” she snapped, “there was no necessity for you to say that.”
“Did you want me to lie?” Nat snapped back. There was tension in the line of his shoulders and his expression was hard. He met Lizzie’s furious gaze with a fierce one of his own. “I don’t think you understand, Lizzie,” he said. “This isn’t a parlor game, it is a murder inquiry. Miles’s next question was going to be whether or not you killed your brother.”
“Well, not quite,” Miles said ruefully. He rubbed a hand over his hair. “May I clarify? Lady Elizabeth-” Suddenly he sounded extremely formal, “I apologize for the necessity of asking you this, but it is very important. Is it correct that you spent these two nights with Lord Waterhouse or is he merely trying to protect you?”
“Damn you, Miles-” Nat sounded absolutely livid. He took a step forward, but Dexter caught his arm.
“Nat,” Dexter said, “it seems that you are scarcely objective in this. Keep out of it.”
Nat set his jaw. He looked ready to explode, but he kept quiet. He was looking at Lizzie and his expression was dark and hooded, challenging her to deny the truth. Lizzie trembled beneath his gaze.
“To clarify,” she said. She cleared her throat. “I was with Lord Waterhouse on both occasions, although not all night.”
Miles inclined his head. “Thank you. The two of you were, I take it, alone?”
“We were,” Lizzie said. Her gaze slid to Nat’s furious face. He had himself under tight control now, but there was a pulse pounding in his cheek. He shook Dexter’s hand from his arm. “Lady Elizabeth is going to marry me,” he said.
“To clarify,” Lizzie said again, angrily, “I am
Nat swore under his breath. Lizzie sensed rather than saw the look that flashed between Alice and Laura. She knew that all her friends were absolutely desperate to brush the men aside and to ask her what on earth was going on. Alice knew-and no doubt Laura did, too-that she was in love with Nat. Alice had realized it before Lizzie had herself, and had challenged her about it months before. In fact everyone except Nat himself must know and she could only pray that he remained in ignorance, for she was not sure that her pride could take the blow.
“I am relieving you of your part in this investigation, Nathaniel,” Dexter said courteously. “You must see you have a major conflict of interest.”
Nat said something very sharp and to the point that made the ladies wince again and stalked over to the edge of the terrace.
“Lady Elizabeth,” Dexter said, turning to her, “I don’t think we need trouble you any further at the moment. Thank you for being so honest with us.”
“I don’t think Lord Waterhouse gave me much option,” Lizzie said bitterly.
“I will escort you back to Fortune Hall to start making the arrangements for Sir Montague’s funeral,” Nat said, coming forward.
“No,” Lizzie said. The panic clutched at her again. She did not want to be alone with Nat, not now that he had made their association public and would surely use it to press her to marry him. “No, thank you. I would rather do things alone.”
This time Nat swore aloud. “For God’s sake, Lizzie, must you always reject my help?”
They stood staring at one another as though the others were simply not there.
