A Fearsome Doubt - Charles Todd [104]
Hauser sighed. “I’d thought about that.” His face wreathed in a self-deprecating smile, he added, “On the other hand, I might have got those men drunk in the hope they’d tell me what they knew about Ridger—and then misjudged how much would kill them.”
“I don’t know why you killed them,” Rutledge replied. “Yet. Revenge, perhaps? All three served with Ridger. That cup is a very good story—but I have only your word that it exists. And so far, your lies have been plentiful and extremely persuasive. But they’re beginning to catch up with you.”
And with that, he was gone.
MELINDA CRAWFORD WAS delighted to see them.
And there was another guest at the tea table—Bella Masters—who was decidedly not.
She greeted Rutledge with a flush that rushed up under her fair skin like a burn and said with embarrassment, “I was just leaving. But this offers me another opportunity to say—”
“Mrs. Masters.” He interrupted her with a smile. “I hope you’ll stay and enjoy Elizabeth’s company. There’s work waiting for me in Marling, I’m afraid, and I’ve only driven her over as promised.”
He turned to Elizabeth, standing beside him with a worried expression on her face, as if wishing Bella Masters at the devil. “I’ll come for you, whenever you say the word.”
“You’ll—you’ll keep me informed?” she begged.
“I will.”
Melinda Crawford, no fool, had caught Elizabeth’s expression, and looked at Rutledge quizzically. “Now tell me you won’t have a cup of tea, Ian! One cup! And then I’ll walk you to the door myself. Elizabeth, dear, do sit down. You look as if you’re feeling a little sick from the motorcar.”
Elizabeth crossed to the hearth and held out unsteady hands to the blaze. “I’m cold, that’s all. Bella, it’s wonderful to see you.” Gathering her wits and her social graces about her like a cloak, she smiled. “Raleigh’s better, I hope. He was abominable the other night. I’ve only just decided to forgive him!”
Bella seemed to relax a little, her eyes still on Rutledge. “He has his good days,” she agreed. “The truth is, he’s not content with an invalid’s role, and it grates more than we probably know. I ache, sometimes, watching him try to manage. A far cry from the world of the courts—” Trying to hold back tears, she picked up her spoon and vigorously stirred her tea.
Mrs. Crawford had poured tea for Elizabeth, and now handed Rutledge his cup. It was hot and strong and sweet, without milk.
“She’d have added a discreet drop of something stronger, if she could,” Hamish said, beginning to get Mrs. Crawford’s measure. “My granny would ha’ done that.”
Elizabeth was saying something about time lying heavy on her hands as well, and turned to Mrs. Crawford. “I’ve come to stay a few days, if you’ll have me—”
“My dear, I’d like nothing more! Ian must have told you how much I’ve complained lately about no one to talk to. I’d go up to London, if the weather weren’t so cold. I feel it now, more than I did. Used as I was to a hot climate.”
Rutledge drank his tea, standing by the small inlaid Chinese desk that sat out of reach of the sunlight pouring through the window.
Bella, regaining her composure, said, “Raleigh prefers a good fire these days. I can remember when he insisted that the windows be opened wide each morning. It was outrageous, but he couldn’t bear to be too warm. I’d slip around behind him, closing them as soon as he left a room.”
They laughed. Melinda Crawford’s eyes met his, and he dutifully commented, “I’ve never quite understood how men fought in wool in India.”
“They dropped dead of heatstroke,” she said. “Silly fools.”
He drank his tea and set down the cup. “I really must go. Elizabeth’s cases are in the boot—”
“Then I’ll come and see that they’re carried up to her room,” Mrs. Crawford replied.
Rutledge took his leave of Mrs. Masters and kissed the cheek that Elizabeth tentatively offered him. Then he followed his hostess into the echoing hall. She caught his arm and pulled him into the music room.
“Now tell me what this is about,” she hissed. “Elizabeth looks as if she’s been crying—”
“Let her explain in