Penny set her cup on her saucer. “The more I see of Nicholas, the more difficulty I have in casting him as a villain of any sort. I know you agree that he’s not the murderer.” She glanced up and met Charles’s eyes, darkest sapphire blue in the sunlight. “But can you truly see him as a traitor, someone who knowingly passed military secrets to the French?”
He held her gaze for a moment, then looked at Nicholas. “Sometimes, people get caught up in affairs without realizing, not until it’s too late. I’ve been wondering if perhaps Nicholas, unaware of the illici
t trade his father and yours had undertaken, blithely followed his sire into the Foreign Office, then found himself expected to, as it were, continue the family business.”
She followed his gaze to Nicholas. “That would explain why he won’t speak.”
Charles nodded. “He knows we have no real evidence, yet it’s not just him and his career, but his father’s reputation and the rest of the family’s at stake. As you pointed out, this matter’s a blot that once known would stain all the family, including innocents like Elaine and her girls.”
After a moment, he added, “I can understand why he’s holding against us, but understanding doesn’t make it any easier to break him.”
Indeed, understanding made it that much harder, because they both had a great deal of sympathy for Nicholas’s stand.
As Penny had predicted, all five of their “suspects” were present, all, when discussing the tragedy, had evinced the right degree of revulsion, made the right comments, the expected expostulations.
“Not one,” Charles commented acerbically, “put a foot wrong.”
But only one of them would have been tested, and whoever he was, he was a professional; that Charles already knew and thoroughly appreciated.
He and Penny moved through the crowd, chatting here, exchanging news of their families there. He kept a surreptitious watch on Nicholas, but although Nicholas watched the five “visitors,” he made no move to engage any of them. Even more telling, he didn’t favor one over the other in his observations. Or his peregrinations; he passed each of the five with a nod, a look, and smoothly moved on.
Given he was now convinced he had Nicholas’s measure, that last puzzled Charles. Did Nicholas truly have no idea which of the five was the most likely? If so…
“Damn!”
Startled, Penny glanced up at him. Mercifully, there were no matrons within hearing range. He tightened his hold on her elbow. “You’re feeling faint.”
“I am?”
“You are—we need an excuse to leave now. With Nicholas.”
She didn’t argue, but obligingly wilted against him. He took her weight, solicitously guided her to where Lady Carmody sat. They made their excuses; while her ladyship fussed, Charles collected Nicholas with a look.
He came, puzzled, then concerned when he heard of Penny’s indisposition. He readily agreed they should leave at once; of course he would accompany them.
Lady Carmody was gracious, understanding, and content enough that they’d appeared and thus ensured her tea party was a huge success. She patted Penny’s hand. “Quite understandable, my dear. You are looking rather wan.”
Mrs. Cranfield tut-tutted. “You need a good night’s rest, my dear. Make sure you get it, and leave the worrying to others.”
Lady Trescowthick looked uncertain, but kissed Penny’s cheek and glanced at Charles. “Do take care, dear.”
They made their exit as fast as they dared. Penny held to her pose of an incipient faint until they’d turned out of the drive and were heading along the lane, out of sight.
She exhaled and straightened. Looking at Charles, she noted the rather grim set of his lips. “Why did we have to leave?”
“I’ll tell you when we get back to Wallingham.”
She would have argued and insisted he tell her now, but his tone reminded her there was another with them—Nicholas, to wit. Folding her hands in her lap, she composed herself in patience, and waited.
Her mind ranged back over their departure; thinking of Lady Trescowthick’s puzzled look, she couldn’t help but smile.
“What?” Charles asked.
She glanced at him, but he was looking at his horses. She looked ahead. “I was just wondering when it will occur to them that I’ve never fainted in my life.”
Charles heard the amusement in her voice and bit his tongue. Hard. No need to point out that while those three ladies, who had known them both since birth, might indeed note the oddity of her faint, instead of supposing the faint a sham, they might come up with quite a different reason to account for it.
A reason that, already or at some point in the not overly distant future, might indeed be real. Would be real.