“What fate is that?” Beatrice asked Smith as Victor wrapped his hand around Vi’s and squeezed.
“The fate of looking after yourself,” Smith answered smoothly. “Violet did that, though she did have Victor to help. Beatrice looks after herself, even still. Rita and Lila would both do the same before marrying a villain or serving without thanks.”
Vi considered, attempting to distract herself from her tears.
“I could see murdering someone like that,” Rita said. Her grip on her knife was too tight, and her knuckles were turning white, but she used it to stab the meat on her plate a moment later, and she seemed to enjoy cutting through the beef, watching the flesh part. “I could see plunging a knife into such a man’s back and going home and sleeping peacefully. These money-grubbing gents that chased you and I, Vi. They’re animals.”
No one countered Rita, but they all watched with a sort of sick fascination when she ate that mutilated meat and then glanced up with a barely banked rage.
“The lack of money-grubbing blokes is the best part of being married,” Vi responded.
“I don’t know,” Denny said. “Sooner or later, someone will think they can persuade you from our boys and imagine themselves as your next dependent husband.”
Rita stared at Denny and then surprised them all with a laugh. It was followed by a gasp as she covered her mouth and stricken, guilt-filled eyes as she realized she had laughed on such a day.
“Tell us about the placement of the body,” Lila cut in before Rita could bury them in recriminations. “Was it vicious blows?”
Jack blinked for a moment, and Vi could see him filter through the question, the questioner, and conclude that Lila—who rarely cared much about their cases—had asked to distract Rita from self-hatred.
“It was a fierce blow,” he said.
Vi had to wonder if it was the truth, but he continued.
“Struck from behind, he died rather quickly, and probably couldn’t do much other than feel the blow.”
“So he probably knew who killed him?” Lila asked with the same grisly curiosity that she forced for Rita.
“Probably,” Jack said.
“How odd,” Lila mused. “To be murdered and hear the words of the person who killed you. What would you say? This is for mussing my embroidered couch?”
“Or,” Denny suggested, “for wounding my feminine pride and romancing me for my money?”
“Not even bothering to hide his intent,” Kate added. “If the heiress was the killer, he romanced her so poorly that she knew what he was doing the whole time. She knew and he’d continued, setting aside her wit and thinking she’d just…just…succumb to occasional flattery and his handsome face.”
Vi scrunched her nose with a flash of fury at the idea that he had treated Miss Sinclair that way.
“I didn’t feel all that sorry for him before,” Beatrice said, her fingers still in Smith’s hand, “but I find that I don’t think this man’s death would be all that tragic if the woman he intended to manipulate and rob killed him.”
Violet knew her own fury was out of hand when she could imagine plunging that knife for Miss Sinclair, but…Vi sighed. “He wasn’t only robbing her of her innocence. If he really did those things to her, if he really half-romanced her for the money, he could easily have stolen Miss Sinclair’s belief that anyone would love her. After all, Jason Meyers clearly thought her only worth came from her fortune.”
“Especially since she’s older,” Lila said, wincing for the reverend’s daughter. “Maybe she’s single still because she wants to be, but if not—she might have had a few remaining thoughts that eventually someone would see her and want her.”
“No one wants to be desired only for their money.” Rita shook her head, fierce again like the rest of the ladies at the table. “No one wants to be a commodity rather than a person with hopes and dreams. No one should be treated like that.”
“Let’s kill him again,” Denny said cheerily. “I’ve heard of a rather available and very sharp knife.”
“Lucky for you, my lad,” Lila told her husband, “you were wise enough to marry me for myself.”
Denny grinned at her. “Oh I wanted you for what you could offer me.”
“My routine?” Lila suggested in mockery as she’d had nothing to offer when they’d wed. “My country connections? The chance to be Martha’s brother-in-law?”
Denny shuddered at Martha’s name.
“Your bossiness, Lila,” he told her. “It gets me out of bed and pushes me through life. You’re my own personal carrot and stick.”
Rita laughed again and then she closed her eyes. “I can’t.”
A moment later she rose and darted up the stairs quickly followed by Ham. The rest of them stared at each other, feeling too much.
“At least we got her to eat some,” Denny muttered.
“We got her to think of something else,” Beatrice added.
“She’s not ready for that yet,” Smith said, to Vi’s shock. “It’ll take time. Grief does, but it’s good she got up rather than wallowing. You should prod her from bed every day if you can.”
He rose, kissed Beatrice with far too much heat for the joint company, and left. The rest of them stared at each other, once again, and then Victor said, “Well if we’re going to prod her out of bed and back into life, we should rest up.”
Rather than lingering after their late supper, they rose one-by-one and left the dining room. Vi collapsed into her bed and was asleep before Jack joined her, but he was there when the dreams of the loss of Rita and Ham’s baby combined with Jason Meyers and took hold. She was chased through her sleep until she gasped awake and found that dawn had come once again.
Chapter 13
Violet found Rita in her bedroom the next day. She was sitting near the fire, staring at nothing. Vi asked, “What do you need?”
“I don’t
