Kate nodded. He wasn’t like she’d imagined from Puck’s story. He certainly wasn’t the scowling, angry, full of hatred person she’d pictured.
“Are you here to find out who murdered Sean and Diana?”
His words so shocked Kate she couldn’t speak.
“Too much too soon?” he asked.
“Murdered?” she managed to whisper. Did he know about the body? Had he put it there?
“Again, I apologize. I shouldn’t have said that. It’s just my theory. I’ve not said it out loud before.”
Kate was staring at him in silence.
“Perhaps we should start over. I’m Clive Binswood and I work at Coutts Bank in London.” He held out his hand to shake.
“I’m Kate Medlar.” She shook his hand.
He glanced down at her shoes. “How about if you and I take a walk? I haven’t seen the place in years and I’d like to see what Mrs. Guilford has done to it.”
Kate was recovering. “Will you tell me your side of what happened?”
He smiled so warmly that she smiled back. “No one has ever asked to hear my side of anything about Oxley Manor. I assume you’ve been told that I was an angry young man. Disliked by all.”
The kindness in Kate wanted to deny that, but she didn’t. “Actually, yes. I expected you to have fangs and a forked tail.”
He grinned. “No fangs. Haven’t looked to see if a tail has grown.”
She smiled as she stood up. “Yes, let’s walk. Tell me how you first came to be at Oxley Manor.”
“My guardian angel,” he said as he held open the door for her. “At least that’s what I thought at the time.”
They walked side by side down a well-kept gravel path.
Clive was looking around. “It’s hard to believe this is the same place. Bertram... He’s—”
“Nicky’s father. The drunken earl.”
“You’ve been doing your research. Bertram didn’t care about the place.”
“Only about his slow horses.”
Clive chuckled. “He said that when they made millions he’d repair everything. But he—”
Kate had heard enough about Bertram and his horses. “What about you? How was your angel involved in putting you here?”
“By the time I was fourteen, every person I’d ever lived with had died.”
“I’m sorry,” Kate said.
“I grew up in houses of grief and illness and tragedy. Only quiet sadness was allowed.”
“Not good for a child,” she said.
“Understatement. But I knew nothing different. I was the passed-around kid. After my parents died when I was eight, I went from uncle to aunt to cousin.”
“Sure doesn’t sound like fun,” Kate said. “But I bet they were all so very glad to see you arrive.”
“Their joy was overwhelming.”