Read Online All About Love by Stephanie Laurens - Free Book Online Page B

great delight in that, even though he knew I understood not one word in three.”
    Lucifer gripped Covey’s shoulder. “You were a good friend to him, Covey.” He hesitated, then added, “I’m sure Horatio will have made provision for you in his will, but whatever happens, we’ll sort something out. Horatio would have wished it.”
    Covey inclined his head. “Thank you, sir. I appreciate the reassurance.”
    “One thing. Have any of the other dealers stopped by recently? Jamieson? Dallwell?”
    “No, sir. Mr. Jamieson stopped by some months ago, but we’ve seen no one recently. The master hasn’t—hadn’t—been so active in dealing since we’d moved south.”
    Lucifer hesitated. “I imagine I’ll be staying at the Grange for the next few days.”
    “Indeed, sir.” Covey bowed. “If you’ll excuse me, I’ll return to my tidying.”
    Lucifer nodded in dismissal, wondering who Horatio’s heirs would be. He made a mental note to have a word with them regarding Covey’s long service and devotion. Returning to the window, he considered Covey’s description of Horatio’s recent excitement.
    If he could understand why Horatio had been killed, he would know who had killed him. The “why” was the key. It seemed possible, even likely, that the “why” was the mysterious item Horatio had discovered; his violent death had followed so soon after the discovery. If the mysterious item was the key, then the murderer might have come from beyond the local area, as Lady Huddlesford insisted was the case. Luckily, they were deep in the country—“outsiders” were noticed. He was sure he’d been noticed, perhaps not in Colyton, but certainly along the way.
    Turning, he scanned the room. Horatio might have concealed his latest find in plain sight, amid the treasure trove of his collection.
    When Phyllida returned to the drawing room, she found her nemesis examining the halberd responsible for the dent in his skull. He looked at her. “Was it always kept here—behind the door?”
    “I understand so.”
    He studied her, then looked at the axe-head. Raising the halberd, he let it fall to his other hand, watching how the weighted head swung. “I would have thought, if it had fallen or been wielded with intent . . .”
    Then the axe should have cleaved his skull in two. Phyllida didn’t want to think about it. “This part here”—she pointed to the rounded side—“was apparently what connected with your head.”
    “Indeed?” He hefted the weapon fully upright, then looked at her. “How did it fall?”
    She met his eyes directly—and said nothing.
    He held her gaze, and let the tension stretch.
    And stretch . . .
    She lifted her chin. “I have to go to the church to sort out the flowers for the funeral, and then I must speak with the curate. You can stay here, if you like.”
    Lucifer replaced the halberd. “I’ll come with you.”
    He’d said his last good-bye to Horatio.
    Contained and uncommunicative, she led the way through the garden. As they rounded the fountain, he paused. “The flowers for the church—use some of these peonies. They were Martha’s favorites.”
    She stopped and glanced back at him, then at the flowers. Then she nodded and continued on.
    They crossed the lane and started up the common. The expanse of green was kept clipped by the sheep allowed to graze over it; it rose in a gradual slope from the lane to the crest on which the church stood.
    Lucifer matched his long strides to Phyllida’s and breathed deeply. The air was fresh, sun-warmed; the scents and sounds of a June afternoon ebbed and flowed around them. The ache in his head was subsiding, and the best distraction Colyton had to offer was walking beside him.
    He was intrigued, and couldn’t entirely understand why. Indeed, he wasn’t sure he approved. His preference, until now, had been for ladies of more bountiful charms, yet Phyllida Tallent’s slender grace acted powerfully on his ever-ready male senses. Being