Read Online The Clockwork Wolf by Lynn Viehl - Free Book Online

about another frost harming the sweet pea vines. He directed Jarvis to speak to the groundsman and have him blanket the new blooms—it was all very normal, Kittredge. Nothing to indicate he entertained violent plans, or felt guilty or remorseful.”
    â€œWhy would he? He hadn’t done anything yet.” I tucked some stray strands under the coil of her chignon. “After your luncheon, did he return to his study?”
    â€œYes. No. I believe he went direct to his dressing room to change. I spoke to him in the hall a little before three.” She frowned. “He left shortly after that, and he didn’t return.”
    I picked up a comb and came round to smooth out the front of her hair. “What did you say to him in the hall, exactly?”
    â€œIf you must know, I told him he looked deplorable.” Her jaw tightened. “My last words to my husband were to suggest he sack the valet. Such a warm memory to cherish, don’t you think?”
    â€œYou weren’t to know you’d never see him again. There.” I lowered the comb and stepped back. “I’ve done as much damage as I can.”
    Lady Bestly examined her reflection. “This is good work. Somewhat simple but quite tolerable.” Her eyes narrowed. “You’re very familiar with a maid’s duties for someone who has never been in service.”
    â€œI’ve played the part a time or two, most often for my mother. Mum loved having her hair brushed.” I let the comb fall onto the vanity table with a clatter. “I directed Annie to put together morning tea for you. She can’t cook so you shouldn’t expect anything hot. While you’re downstairs I’ll have a look at his lordship’s rooms, with your permission.”
    â€œOf course,” she said. “His bedchamber and dressing room are at the end of the hall. The study is at the back of the house, across from the dining room.”
    â€œThank you, milady.” I retrieved my case.
    â€œKittredge, any evidence you might locate must be brought to me directly, that I may examine it for myself,” Lady Bestly said. “Nothing you find is to leave the house, is that understood?”
    She doled out insults much more deftly than she did compliments—and she was also frightened, maybe even terrified, of what I might find. “Absolutely, milady.”
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    I started my search in Lord Bestly’s bedchamber, which appeared to have been tidied but smelled musty, as if no one had entered since the night of his death. I drew back the curtains only to confront the dark blue funeral blind that had been tacked to the frame. Removing it would only further scandalize her ladyship’s neighbors, so I left it in place and instead lit the lamps.
    The chamber could have belonged to any successful gentleman. Several carefully polished trophies marched along the marble mantel above the cold hearth; I read one engraved plaque that proclaimed a hunting victory some thirty years past. The others were of the same age and boasted of his lordship’s prowess at shooting, archery, and tracking.
    â€œQuite the sportsman in your youth.” Lady Bestly had likely put an end to all that after their wedding; an unfortunate clash with some native hunters twenty years ago had made outdoor sport uncongenial, and therefore unfashionable, among the tonners.
    After taking the magnifying glass and some other tools from my case I looked through Lord Bestly’s armoire, secretary, and boot cases, finding nothing but costly garments and ruthlessly polished leather. He’d dressed mainly in the dark, conservative style of his rank with some startling contradictions; he’d liked complicated cravats that must have bedeviled his valet, and had amassed an astonishing variety of bejeweled lapel pins. I also found a watch case containing a dozen pocket watches, all solid gold and set with