leave Barney out here alone to get into mischief. My daughter Georgina left him to his own devices a few weeks ago, and I’m afraid he stole a link of sausages from the butcher’s and then ‘christened’ some half dozen tombstones in the churchyard before the vicar managed to collar him. The truth is, his origins are shockingly plebeian, and he’s no notion of how to behave in polite society.”
Sebastian laughed. “I understand entirely.”
She gave the dog an affectionate shake. “My purpose in hailing you in such a shamefully vulgar fashion is because I would like to invite you and Lady Devlin to dinner at Northcott Abbey—shall we say, tomorrow evening?” She leaned forward. “Oh, do say you’ll be able to come.”
The truth was that Sebastian had his own reasons for wishing to visit Northcott Abbey and study a certain seventeenth-century painting hanging in its portrait gallery. He bowed and said, “We should be delighted.”
“Wonderful. I have some houseguests I believe you’ll find most interesting: Senator and Madame Lucien Bonaparte, the estranged brother of the Emperor Napoléon himself.”
“I’d heard he’s staying with you this summer.”
“Yes; I fear the noise from the repairs on his estate in Worcester was interfering with his poetical composition. He’s writing an epic about Charlemagne, you see.”
“Is he? I understand he’s already published a novel.”
“He has, yes—
La tribu indienne
.” She pulled a wry face. “Although I must confess I’ve yet to read it.”
“Has he allowed you to see his epic?”
“No. But he spends every morning at the Roman temple by the lake working on it. He’s very dedicated.”
“I look forward to meeting him.”
Her smile flashed wide. “Excellent!” Then she assumed a more somber expression and said, “I would also like to thank you for agreeing to help our young Squire deal with that unfortunate woman’s death.”
“Did you ever meet her?”
“I did, yes. She came to tea at Northcott just last Saturday. She was such a lovely young woman, neither painfully shy nor too forward. I suggested she might be interested in visiting the priory ruins, and she said she was eager to do so.” Lady Seaton hesitated. “Was it truly a murder, do you think?”
“I’m afraid so.”
A quiver of what looked very much like fear convulsed her delicate features, then was gone, carefully hidden away. “How absolutely ghastly. I keep thinking . . . I mean, if I’d known when I saw her at the ruins yesterday, could I perhaps have said something—done something—to prevent it?”
“You saw her?”
“I did, yes. I was taking Barney for a walk and came upon her by chance. She was sketching the west wall of the old priory church. It’s quite beautiful, you know.”
“What time was this?” he asked, more sharply than he’d intended.
“Around two, I suppose. Perhaps a tad later.”
“Did you speak with her?”
“I did, yes. I complimented her work. She truly was an exceptionally talented artist. She thanked me for suggesting she visit the ruins and said something about how lovely they were.”
“Anything else?”
“Well, let’s see. . . . We discussed some of the other picturesque sites in the area. I asked if she’d visited Northcott Gorge yet, and she said she’d arranged to have a guide take her there in a day or two. And then she said something about hoping it wouldn’t come on to rain again, because she wanted to sketch the river at sunset.”
Sebastian found his interest quickening. “You’re saying she was planning to go down to the river that very evening?”
Lady Seaton gave an exaggerated grimace. “I
think
she meant later that evening. But I wouldn’t swear to it.” She paused, her gaze steady and intent, her head tilted slightly to one side as if she were puzzling out a problem that troubled her. “You’re quite certain the young woman didn’t take her own life?”
Sebastian was beginning to
Sebastian laughed. “I understand entirely.”
She gave the dog an affectionate shake. “My purpose in hailing you in such a shamefully vulgar fashion is because I would like to invite you and Lady Devlin to dinner at Northcott Abbey—shall we say, tomorrow evening?” She leaned forward. “Oh, do say you’ll be able to come.”
The truth was that Sebastian had his own reasons for wishing to visit Northcott Abbey and study a certain seventeenth-century painting hanging in its portrait gallery. He bowed and said, “We should be delighted.”
“Wonderful. I have some houseguests I believe you’ll find most interesting: Senator and Madame Lucien Bonaparte, the estranged brother of the Emperor Napoléon himself.”
“I’d heard he’s staying with you this summer.”
“Yes; I fear the noise from the repairs on his estate in Worcester was interfering with his poetical composition. He’s writing an epic about Charlemagne, you see.”
“Is he? I understand he’s already published a novel.”
“He has, yes—
La tribu indienne
.” She pulled a wry face. “Although I must confess I’ve yet to read it.”
“Has he allowed you to see his epic?”
“No. But he spends every morning at the Roman temple by the lake working on it. He’s very dedicated.”
“I look forward to meeting him.”
Her smile flashed wide. “Excellent!” Then she assumed a more somber expression and said, “I would also like to thank you for agreeing to help our young Squire deal with that unfortunate woman’s death.”
“Did you ever meet her?”
“I did, yes. She came to tea at Northcott just last Saturday. She was such a lovely young woman, neither painfully shy nor too forward. I suggested she might be interested in visiting the priory ruins, and she said she was eager to do so.” Lady Seaton hesitated. “Was it truly a murder, do you think?”
“I’m afraid so.”
A quiver of what looked very much like fear convulsed her delicate features, then was gone, carefully hidden away. “How absolutely ghastly. I keep thinking . . . I mean, if I’d known when I saw her at the ruins yesterday, could I perhaps have said something—done something—to prevent it?”
“You saw her?”
“I did, yes. I was taking Barney for a walk and came upon her by chance. She was sketching the west wall of the old priory church. It’s quite beautiful, you know.”
“What time was this?” he asked, more sharply than he’d intended.
“Around two, I suppose. Perhaps a tad later.”
“Did you speak with her?”
“I did, yes. I complimented her work. She truly was an exceptionally talented artist. She thanked me for suggesting she visit the ruins and said something about how lovely they were.”
“Anything else?”
“Well, let’s see. . . . We discussed some of the other picturesque sites in the area. I asked if she’d visited Northcott Gorge yet, and she said she’d arranged to have a guide take her there in a day or two. And then she said something about hoping it wouldn’t come on to rain again, because she wanted to sketch the river at sunset.”
Sebastian found his interest quickening. “You’re saying she was planning to go down to the river that very evening?”
Lady Seaton gave an exaggerated grimace. “I
think
she meant later that evening. But I wouldn’t swear to it.” She paused, her gaze steady and intent, her head tilted slightly to one side as if she were puzzling out a problem that troubled her. “You’re quite certain the young woman didn’t take her own life?”
Sebastian was beginning to
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