The village authorities had probably already given up any hope of solving the crime, Emma thought. It was virtually impossible to force the high-ranking members of the ton to answer questions in such matters unless they chose to do so or unless there was hard evidence of guilt.
Emma had a strong suspicion that the servants at Ware Castle were not the only ones who had concluded that she was the one who had killed Chilton Crane. She had seen the avid speculation in the eyes of Ware’s guests. None of them would attempt to contest her alibi, of course. That would amount to calling Edison a liar, and she doubted that anyone would be fool enough to take such a risk.
But their respectful wariness of Edison would not keep the jaded members of the ton from forming their own opinions, just as the castle staff had. She could only hope that no one had liked Chilton Crane well enough to try to seek revenge.
Unable to abide the suspense a moment longer, Emma rounded on Edison. “Just who do you think murdered Mr. Crane, sir?”
He gave her a thoughtful look. “The identity of the killer is not important.”
“Good God, sir, you think I shot him, don’t you?”
“As I said, it’s not important. By the bye, I had a word with the housekeeper. She does not know who sent the maid to your room with the tea tray. The instructions arrived in the kitchens via a note. It was unsigned.”
“I see.” Emma was in no mood to concern herself with irrelevant details. “I suppose you have already heard that I am no longer in Lady Mayfield’s employ,” she said bluntly.
Edison glanced at her with an expression of mild surprise. “I had not heard that you had left your post.”
“I did not leave it voluntarily, sir. I was summarily dismissed.”
“Not surprising.” Edison’s mouth twitched. “Lady Mayfield is hardly likely to employ my fiancée as a paid companion.”
Emma’s hands tightened abruptly on the reins. The little mare tossed her head in protest. Hastily, Emma relaxed her grip. There was no reason to take out her own frustrations on the poor horse.
“Well, sir?”
“Well, what?”
She glared at him. “You have no doubt realized that I am no longer in a position to assist you in your inquiries. I suppose you intend to dismiss me, too?”
Edison frowned. “Why would I do that?”
“There is no need to beat around the bush or try to tie it up in pretty wrappings. I am well aware that you have brought me out here in order to tell me that I no longer have a post. You probably think that I ought to be grateful for what you did for me last night. And I am. But only to a point.”
He watched her with an expression of amused interest. “I see.”
“I am well aware that you saved me from the hangman’s noose. But now I have lost my position with Lady Mayfield because of your actions, and, as I am therefore of no further use to you, I shall be obliged to look for another post.”
“Emma—”
“Which will not be an easy matter, because Lady Mayfield refuses to give me a reference.”
“Ah.” There was a wealth of understanding in the single soft exclamation.
Emma narrowed her eyes. “She claims I won’t need one as I am now your fiancée. I could hardly explain that I am not actually your fiancée without ruining my alibi, could I?”
He looked thoughtful. “No.”
“It will be impossible for me to find another post back in London once Ware’s guests return to Town and inform their friends and cronies that I was briefly engaged to you, sir, and am very likely a murderess into the bargain.”
“Yes, I can see that would raise some difficulties.”
“Difficulties?” The anger that had been simmering in her all morning exploded. “That is putting it much too mildly, sir. Once you announce that our engagement is ended, I will be ruined.”
“I realize that under the circumstances, a broken engagement would cause a scandal.”
“It will be a disaster. Thanks to your attempt to provide me with an alibi, everyone believes that, whether or not I am the killer, I am most certainly having an affair with you. Without the protection of a formal engagement, I shall be viewed as little better than a bit of muslin. A woman of easy virtue. No one who learns of this incident will even contemplate hiring me as a companion.”
“Ah, yes. The virtue problem.”
“I shall likely be obliged to change my name, obtain another wig, and go north to find a post. Perhaps all the way to Scotland.”
“A dire fate,” he agreed.
A flicker of hope flared in Emma. At least he was not denying his culpability in the matter. “You do see, then, that I face an extremely unhappy situation and it is entirely your fault, sir.”
He nodded. “Yes, I suppose one could say that.”
Her spirits lifted. She rushed to press her small advantage. “Given the circumstances, I trust you will also agree that it would be grossly unfair of you to refuse to pay me the wages you promised.”
“Grossly unfair,” he said, readily enough.
“I explained about my sister’s school fees.”
“Yes, you did.”
Relief poured through her. He was not going to be difficult, after all. She may as well try for the rest of it. “I feel that in addition to paying me the amount we agreed upon, the very least you can do for me is write me a reference.”
He raised his brows. “A reference?”
“Yes. With a reference signed by a man of your importance, it will be much easier for me to find employment in the North.”
“I see.”
She quickly pondered the details of her plan. “Luckily, I have copies of my last two references, which I wrote myself. I shall loan them to you, if you like. You may use them as models. I must say, they are excellent.”
“Glowing, no doubt.”
“Indeed. I am quite pleased with them. I shall fetch them for you as soon as we get back to the castle.”
“Kind of you.”
“I shall think of a new name for myself that you can use in the reference. I dare not use my own name for a while. Gossip has a way of circulating beyond London. No sense taking chances.”
“Emma—”
“If you do not mind,” she said briskly, “I would very much appreciate it if you would write it this afternoon. What with all the excitement, I suspect that many of Ware’s guests will decide to return to Town quite soon.”
“True. Everyone will be eager to spread the gossip about Crane’s murder.”
“Precisely. It is just the sort of tale that will titillate the ton for several days.”
“Indeed.” Edison glanced at her, his eyes perfectly unreadable. “I appreciate your offer of assistance, Miss Greyson. But I do not believe that it will be necessary for me to copy one of your references.”
“Are you certain? I have had a great deal of experience in the matter. I have learned, for example, that there are certain words that work very well.”
He looked briefly intrigued. “Which words?”
Having long since committed them to memory, Emma rattled them off quickly. “Meek, plain, timid, humble, unobtrusive, and spectacles.”
“Spectacles?”
“Potential employers are extremely fond of spectacles.”
“I see.” Edison brought the gelding to a halt. “Odd you should mention them. As it happens, I have been meaning to ask you about your spectacles.”
Emma frowned as her mare halted of her own accord. “What about them?”
“Do you require eyeglasses or do you use them to perfect your image as meek, timid, unobtrusive, etcetera, etcetera?”
She shrugged. “I do not need them to see clearly, if that is what you mean. But in terms of my professional career, I do feel they add just the right touch.”
He reached out and removed the spectacles very gently. “Do not mistake me, Miss Greyson. I find your eyeglasses rather charming. But in your new post you will not be required to project an air of meekness
or timidity. Nor will you need to concern yourself with being unobtrusive. Quite the contrary, in fact.”
She blinked. “I beg your pardon?”
“Let me be blunt about this, my dear Miss Greyson. I agreed to pay you triple the wages that you had expected to receive from Lady Mayfield for the quarter. I expect you to continue in my employ at least until you have given me my money’s worth.”
She felt her jaw drop. “But I am no longer in a position to assist you. I just told you, Lady Mayfield dismissed me this morning.”
“It strikes me that, as my fiancée, you will be in an even better position to assist me than when you were Lady Mayfield’s companion,” he said.
“Have you gone mad, sir?”
“Mayhap.” He smiled at her expression. “But it is no concern of yours. Unless, of course, you have some objection to working for a madman?”
“A person in my circumstances cannot be too choosy when it comes to employers.”
“Excellent. Then we are in agreement on this. You will play the part of my fiancée and carry on as my assistant until I have completed my inquiries.”
Emma shook her head, astonished. “Do you really think your scheme will work?”
“I don’t have much choice. In all the excitement last night, there was no time for me to tell you that I searched Miranda’s bedchamber and found certain herbs. I am forced to conclude that she actually has got her hands on the recipe for the elixir. Which means that she may be able to lead me to the Book of Secrets.”
“And you still require my help because. Lady Ames thinks the brew works on me.”
“Yes.”
The prospect of drinking more of the noxious tea was not a happy one. But the thought of looking for another post was even more unpleasant.
“In all fairness, Mr. Stokes, I must tell you that I cannot guarantee satisfaction,” Emma said. “It is one thing for me to pose as a companion. I have had some experience in that line, after all. But I have had absolutely no experience as a fiancée and I am not at all certain that I will suit the post.”
“On the contrary, Miss Greyson.” He leaned toward her and reached out to tip up her chin. “I think you are perfectly suited to the position. All you require is a bit of practice.”
He started to bend his head. She realized with a shock that he intended to kiss her.
“One more thing, sir,” she whispered breathlessly.
He paused, his mouth inches above hers. “Yes?”
“Given the unusual nature of my post, I really must insist that you write out my reference in advance.”
His mouth curved faintly. “I shall see to it in the near future.”
Emma noticed the movement in the thick trees behind him just as he started to lower his mouth to hers. A familiar sensation raised tiny bumps on her skin.
Leaves shifted. Sunlight glinted briefly on metal.
“Sir. A pistol.”
Edison reacted instantly. He seized Emma’s arm, kicked his booted feet free of the stirrups, and hauled both of them off their horses.
He dragged Emma to the ground just as the shot crashed through the woods overhead.
CHAPTER TEN
For a few seconds the rearing, plunging horses created a useful degree of chaos. Birds screeched and took wing, adding to the noise and confusion. Edison used the precious time to haul Emma into the dense foliage beside the path.
By the time the frightened mare and gelding had thundered off into the distance, Edison had Emma safely pinned to the ground behind an impenetrable clump of greenery.
An eerie silence fell on the woods.
“Stay here,” Edison whispered. “Don’t move until I get back.”
“For God’s sake, sir, surely you do not mean to go after that poacher?”
“I just want to have a look around.”
“Edison, no, you must not take such a risk.” She levered herself up onto her elbow and spit out a leaf. “Come back here. He might mistake you for a gamekeeper. There’s no telling what he’ll do. Poachers can be very dangerous.”
He glanced at her. She lay in a tangle of turquoise blue velvet, one stocking-clad leg revealed beneath the hem of the habit. The dashing little blue hat had fallen to the ground, dragging several pins with it. A cloud of fiery red hair tumbled around her shoulders. She glared at him.
It took him a second to recognize the anxiety that glittered in her brilliant eyes. When he did, he felt an odd warmth in his gut. She had just been shot at, yanked off a horse, and dragged into the bushes, but she was worried about his safety.
The knowledge that she was genuinely concerned for him came as a distinct but rather pleasant surprise. Since his mother’s death, no one except Ignatius Lorring had ever evidenced much concern for his well-being.
“It’s all right,” he mouthed.
He moved off, staying low in order to take advantage of the concealment afforded by heavily laden tree limbs and thick vines. There was no sound from the woods on the other side of the path.
With any luck, Edison thought, his quarry would choose to stay hidden in the woods on the assumption that no one would come looking for him. What fool would crawl through the bushes in pursuit of an armed man who had just taken a shot at him?
A fool who took great exception to being shot at. And even greater exception to having a lady in his employ put at risk.
The soft sounds of the woods slowly resumed. The birds fluttered and chattered overhead. There was a gentle rustling noise in the nearby undergrowth. A hare, Edison thought absently. Or perhaps a squirrel.
When he was fairly certain that he was out of the line of sight of anyone watching from the other side of the path, Edison rose and moved swiftly into the foliage on the far side. He made his way toward the point where the person with the pistol had been when he had taken his shot.
Stay where you are, Edison thought. I shall have you in another few minutes.
His quarry apparently read his mind and realized the imminent danger. There was an explosion of noise as someone abruptly pounded off into the distance.
Once again the birds shrieked and flapped in protest.
“Bloody hell.”
There was no point giving chase, Edison thought, disgusted. He was too far away and the woods were too thick to allow him to glimpse the villain.
He moved out from behind a tree trunk. Frustration replaced the anticipation that had been humming through him a moment ago.
“Sir? Mr. Stokes?”
“It’s all right, Emma. He’s gone.”
“Thank goodness.” She leaped to her feet and hurried out into the center of the path. “I hope you won’t take this the wrong way, sir, but in my opinion what you just did was extremely unintelligent.”
He scowled as he walked out of the woods to join her. “That is no way to speak to your only remaining employer.”
“Nevertheless, you had no business risking your neck in that fashion, sir. The man did have a pistol, after all. He might have reloaded and taken a shot at you.”
Edison looked briefly back over his shoulder to where the villain had hidden himself. Then he looked at Emma. “A second shot, do you mean?”
Her eyes widened as she tried to adjust her little hat. “Good grief. Do you believe that he actually intended to shoot at you the first time, sir? Surely he was merely a poacher who caught a glimpse of the horses and mistook them for deer.”
Edison considered briefly. He finally decided not to point out that most poachers used traps and snares. The few who did use guns favored rifles rather than pistols. The latter were far too inaccurate over long distances to make them useful in hunting.
But if he went into a lengthy discussion of why he was almost certain that the bullet had been meant for him, he knew it would only deepen her alarm. In any event, he did not yet know why anyone would want to kill him.
It was not that he lacked enemies. No man could arrive at his position in life without having acquired a few. But he could think of no part
icular reason why one of them would follow him all the way to Ware Castle to try to kill him. Until he had the answers to those questions, there was no point causing Emma further concern.
“You are quite correct, Miss Greyson. Obviously it was a poacher.”
“Of course I’m right.” She brushed irritably at the dirt and leaves that had stuck to her skirts. “These woods belong to Mr. Ware. Poachers are his problem, not ours.”
He watched her for a moment as she shook out the long skirts of the blue habit. When she reached up to repin the mane of red hair, he stepped closer.
“Emma, I am not quite certain how to say this.”
“What is that, sir?” She concentrated on cramming her hair under the turquoise hat.
He took another step forward. He was very close to her now, but she did not seem to notice. She had her head bent forward as she fussed with her hair. He wanted very badly to put his hands into that red fire.
“I have never actually had to thank a lady for saving my life,” he began softly. “You must forgive me if I do not do it properly.”
“Your life?”
She looked up so sharply that he did not have time to step back. The high, peaked crown of her hat struck his chin. The collision knocked the little confection back to the ground. Her hair tumbled once more around her shoulders.
This time Edison could not resist. He reached out to thread his fingers through the bright mane. “If you had not called out the warning, I might well have taken that ball in my back.”
Her eyes widened. “Good heavens, do you really think that poacher would have struck you with his shot?”
Edison spared a brief glance for the fresh new scar that marked the tree directly behind her. He calculated swiftly.
“It was not a bad shot, considering he was using a pistol. It would certainly have been a very near thing. In any event, I must thank you.”
She cleared her throat. “If you really believe that, then I suppose one might say that we are even now. After all, you saved me from the hangman’s noose last night.”