Ouch, thought Adelia, that sort of sentiment will always sting.
Oscar remained mute, staring at his empty bowl now. Everyone else, feeling acutely uncomfortable by the personal tone the argument was taking, shuffled and kept their thoughts to themselves.
The Countess said, “I have lived a long time. A very long time. I’ve steered this family through thick and thin. No one knows the ways of it as well as I do. No one knows each person here as well as I do.”
Adelia was now doubting that. She glanced up at Theodore, who was frowning.
“And I know you, Oscar. I know you.”
His shoulders heaved but he said nothing.
The Countess went on, saying, “So I am telling you, Oscar dear, with the greatest of affection, it is time you left this place and spread your wings! Go with my blessing. You are not needed here. We shall take care of your mother.”
“Like you did before?” he muttered, still hiding his face. The tips of his ears went red. Adelia had to strain to hear him. Captain Everard, who was closest to him, jerked upright. But The Countess blinked and said, “What? Speak up.”
He shook his head, and finally raised his chin. He met his great-grandmother’s eyes and said, “I shall certainly take your words to heart, nanna.”
“Good, good.” She reached for more wine.
Dark foreboding clutched Adelia’s heart.
The Countess did not know Oscar, and she did not know what he was capable of.
Twenty-six
The ladies withdrew and the men were a long time in coming to join them. Now there were more gentlemen in the house, they had more to talk about and so they lingered in their masculine space for quite a while. Adelia was stuck in the drawing room with Lady Agnes and The Countess, and she missed the presence of her daughter terribly. Lady Agnes sat by the unlit fire with a book in her hands, and she appeared to be engrossed in it. The Countess sat opposite her, tapping her fingers and muttering about how perfectly dull everything was these days, and why could they not engage a man to come out from Plymouth with some magic lantern shows, or tricks, or even to perform some songs at the piano? Lady Agnes refused point blank to play a thing, and Adelia also declined, citing stiffness in her fingers.
When the men rolled in, appearing to be very much worse for alcohol now, Oscar was not with them. Adelia hissed at Theodore, making small jerks of her head to indicate she needed to speak to him immediately. He joined her in an alcove dedicated to books.
“I am not as drunk as you think I am,” he said in a whisper. “Percy is drunk, quite shamefully so. Doctor Netherfield is not drunk but he seems it; I think he is one of those men who grow merry on good company. Captain Everard is very nearly incapable of a sensible sentence, however. I was amazed he could stand up. Is he really the best choice for Lady Agnes?”
“I thought you were worried that she was not good enough for him!”
“Perhaps they will suit one another. I leave it to your discretion.”
“But where is Oscar?” she asked urgently.
“He would not speak to us very much. He is so very young, and he seemed paralysed by the presence of us all. He has gone back to the gatehouse, saying that he needed to go to bed, and I do not think he will cause any trouble tonight.”
“He is going to make an attempt on The Countess’s life.”
Theodore laughed so loudly it drew everyone’s attention. She shushed him angrily.
“He is, I know it,” she said, quickly outlining her suspicions to him.
He furrowed his brow and made a great show of looking as if he were taking her seriously but in spite of his earlier protestation that he was not drunk, she could see that he was. And he continued to insist, over and over, that he had to find the evidence to link Oscar to the crimes. She understood that, but she was terrified now for everyone’s safety.
“At some point you have to act,” she said, trying to stifle her urge to shout at him. “This is not an intellectual game. You must make a move, show your hand, perhaps take a risk.”
“And this is not a game of poker,” he replied.
“No,” she said. “People don’t die in poker. Two men are dead, Theodore! And we know who the murderer is. We must stop him.”
He closed his hands over hers to stop them waving around in her excitement. “People are looking our way. Let us join them. We can discuss this in the morning.”
She sighed very dramatically. She was tired of discussion. And she was scared of inaction.
ALSO TIRED OF DISCUSSION were Captain Everard and Doctor Netherfield. They sought Adelia out before breakfast the next morning and they had clearly been lying in wait for her. She emerged onto the corridor while the house around was still quiet and hushed, and there they were, studiously inspecting some dull prints of a ruined castle on a Scottish island that hung along the walls.
They rushed to her immediately. Captain Everard, in spite of his state of inebriation the night before, was perky and clear-faced, though the older doctor looked weary and had a certain redness to his eyes.
“Good morning, gentlemen.”
“Good morning,” said the doctor, but Captain Everard looked strained and didn’t bother with any pleasantries.
“You are a part of this investigation, as much as anyone,” Captain Everard blurted out. He must have been rehearsing it in his head. “And you have been so very good to me regarding the other matter...”
She smiled at him briefly. “So, you want
