“Speaking of Elias,” Thornstock said, “do we have any idea who poisoned him in prison?”
“Unfortunately, no,” Joshua said. “I questioned every guard and every individual who worked in the kitchen. Either they don’t know or they’re not saying. The prisons are notoriously corrupt, so those who work in them are more afraid of their superiors than of someone like me, who is merely with the marines and not an official employee of the courts. In time I could perhaps learn the answer—with more thorough research into each individual’s connections—but at the moment that line of pursuit will have to be tabled. However . . .”
Joshua walked over to where a stack of papers sat atop a writing table. “I fortunately had the forethought to have a sketch made of Elias at the morgue. Gwyn drew up copies for all of us.”
“They don’t look like buildings, do they?” Thorn quipped. Apparently Gwyn had a love for anything involving architecture.
“Very amusing,” Gwyn drawled. “You’re merely jealous that I know how to sketch whereas your only talent is . . .” When Thorn stiffened, she paused. “Being insufferable.”
Joshua rolled his eyes. “In any case, only Thorn, Olivia, Gwyn, and I have even seen the fellow, so one of you might recognize him from another context. I also figured that Sheridan could show them around in Sanforth to see if anyone recognized the lad. Because if Elias had been close by at all—”
“Then he might have been the one to kill both men,” Heywood said.
“Exactly,” Joshua said.
“I don’t know,” Thornstock put in. “Elias didn’t strike me as the sort of fellow to commit murder at anyone’s bidding. He was careful not to blow up the laboratory until he was certain Olivia wasn’t in it.”
“Ah, but she’s a woman,” Joshua pointed out. “He might have felt differently about killing two aging dukes. Especially if he was being paid well to do so.”
“True,” Sheridan said. “And I agree that the sketch should be shown around town. But I can’t be the one to do it. Someone else will have to.”
“Planning on an extended honeymoon, are you?” Thorn asked.
“Are you?” Vanessa repeated. She was finding this whole discussion fascinating. Or perhaps it was merely the brandy.
“Unfortunately, no.” Sheridan was avoiding her gaze now. “I’m meeting with Bonham in London to discuss some questions I have concerning the books for the estate. I need to go over the accounts before my meeting, so Vanessa and I and her mother leave in the morning.”
“We do?” Vanessa asked. No one had consulted her about the matter. That made her take yet another sip of the brandy. It truly was quite warming.
“Perfect!” Gwyn said. “You can question Lady Eustace on the way.”
“I’ll try,” Sheridan said. “But she’s not that forthcoming.”
“That’s true,” Vanessa said. “Not at’all.”
Joshua walked over to pour a glass of brandy himself.
“I thought you only drank rum,” Thorn said.
“I prefer rum, but any port in a storm, as we seafaring fellows like to say.” Joshua took a long swallow of the liquor.
“He should be careful,” Vanessa whispered to the dowager duchess, but it came out rather loud. “It’s best if you sip it.”
Joshua chuckled, but Sheridan stalked over to pick up Vanessa’s nearly empty glass. “How many ‘sips’ of this have you had?”
Vanessa tipped up her chin. “As many as I want, thank you very much.”
“You see what you started?” Sheridan told his mother.
“What I started! You’re the one who misled her about your intentions.”
“Yes,” Vanessa said, slurring the word a little. “Exactly. You misled her . . . me . . .” She waved her hand at his mother. “What she said.”
“Shall I go on?” Joshua asked.
“Certainly,” the dowager duchess said. “But I think I’ll take Vanessa upstairs to bed. It’s late, and I’m sure she’s quite tired.”
“Is that what we’re calling it now?” Gwyn murmured to Thorn.
Sheridan glared at them both. When the dowager duchess helped Vanessa to a stand, he started to follow the two women. “I’ll go with you.”
“No, indeed,” his mother said. “You need to be here for this discussion. I, on the other hand, do not. I’ll just make sure Vanessa is settled into bed, and I’ll return.”
“All right,” he said warily.
The last thing Vanessa saw before she was led away by the dowager duchess was Sheridan staring after her with concern on his face. It helped to assuage a tiny bit of her hurt feelings.
She and his mother, who kept her arm about Vanessa’s waist, climbed the stairs in silence. As soon as they entered Vanessa’s bedchamber, however, her mother-in-law released her to pull back the bed coverlet. Vanessa swayed a bit, but mostly she just wanted desperately to sleep.
The dowager duchess’s sharp intake of breath as she stared down at the bed seemed to preclude that happening. “Oh, dear, I’ll have to find your maid. Where is Bridget, my dear?”
“Upstairs, I think? I dismissed her for the evening.” Vanessa frowned. “Didn’t expect my husband to have a family meeting on our wedding night.”
Her mother-in-law smiled. “And we’re all sorry about that. We didn’t expect him to do so, either. But I gather he came down to get food and encountered Thorn. You know men and their appetites.” She walked over to unknot the belt of Sheridan’s banyan, which Vanessa still wore. “I’ll have to call for your maid. There’s blood on the sheet—I’m sure you don’t want to sleep on that.”
“Blood?” Vanessa closed her eyes. They were so heavy.
“Your virgin’s blood, dear girl,” her mother-in-law said as she came behind her to slip the banyan off her shoulders.
“Oh. Right. Bridget told me ’bout that.” She’d also said if there wasn’t any blood, there would be a Great To-do. “That’s .
