Phyllida stared into deep blue eyes and prayed her welling panic didn't show. It hadn't occurred to her, not until he started recounting his movements, that, in truth, Lucifer held her in the palm of his hand. If he told her father that someone had been there after the murderer had struck, and that he was convinced-no, he knew-that that person was she…
Her father would instantly know she'd lied-not by act but by omission. He'd realize her uncharacteristic surrender to a headache last Sunday morning had been a ruse, that it would be easy for her to cut through the wood and reach the Manor without being seen. That she'd known no one else should have been in the house.
What he wouldn't understand was why-why she'd done it and then so deceitfully kept silent. And that was the one thing she couldn't tell him, couldn't yet explain-not until she was released from her oath.
The dark blue gaze never wavered. "No."
She breathed shallowly and waited, knowing he knew, knowing he was debating whether or not to expose her. To her father, one of the few people whose good opinion mattered to her.
Time slowed. As if from a distance, she heard her father ask the fateful question, the one she'd realized he would eventually ask. "And there's nothing else bearing on this matter you can tell me?"
Lucifer's eyes held hers steadily. Giddiness threatened.
It suddenly occurred to her to consider the next step: What if he didn't tell?
"No."
She blinked.
He held her gaze for an instant longer, then glanced at her father. "I have no notion who killed Horatio, but, with your permission, I intend to find out."
"Indeed, indeed." Her father nodded. "Commendable goal." He looked up, and frowned.
"Good gracious, Jasper!" Lady Huddlesford swept forward. "You've been interrogating Mr. Cynster for quite long enough. His poor head must be aching."
Lucifer rose, as did Sir Jasper.
"Nonsense, Margaret, we have to sort this matter out."
"Indeed! I haven't been so shocked in years. The very thought of a London cutthroat slipping into the village and stabbing Mr. Welham is more than enough to overset me."
"There's no reason to think it was someone from London."
Lady Huddlesford stared at her brother-in-law. "Really, Jasper! This is such a sleepy little place-everyone knows everyone. Of course it must be someone from outside."
Phyllida sensed her father's resistance. He doggedly held to the logical approach, which meant that at any second he was going to turn to her and ask if she knew of anyone local with a reason to wish Horatio dead.
She didn't, but her answer might come close to being a lie. An outright lie. She avoided prevarication on principle, except in pursuit of the greater good. As her gaze touched Mr. Cynster-Lucifer-she acidly wished she'd made no exception. Just look where it had landed her.
First swamped by guilt. Now chin-deep in his debt.
Percy sauntered up to them. Phyllida glanced his way, then let her gaze drift to Lucifer. Percy was unwise to stand beside him; the comparison left Percy looking like a pasty-faced, effeminate weakling. Percy was pasty-faced, but otherwise presentable-it was the competition that served him so ill.
Her aunt continued to proclaim the impossibility of the murderer being local. Phyllida grasped the moment when she paused for breath. "I must call on Mrs. Hemmings, Papa, to make sure she has all she needs for the wake. I also need to stop at the church and speak with Mr. Filing."
Her nemesis spoke. "Perhaps I could accompany you, Miss Tallent?"
"Ah…" Transfixed by blue eyes that warned her there was no alternative to his company, Phyllida bit back a refusal, couched as a polite reminder about his head.
His lips curved; his gaze remained steady. "I know I promised not to overtax myself, but as I'll be in your company, there's surely no risk."
He'd kept her secret; now she had to pay the price. She inclined her head. "If you wish. A walk in the fresh air might ease your head."
"An excellent notion." As Lucifer straightened from bowing to her aunt, her father caught his eye. "Give you a chance to get the lay of the land, heh?"
"Indeed." The reprobate turned to her, a definite glint in his eyes. He smiled and gestured elegantly. "Lead on, my dear Miss Tallent."
Chapter 3