"Nothing positive. There's no evidence anyone rode in from beyond the village, at least not from the east. I've yet to check in Honiton, but at present, all signs point to the killer residing locally."
"Hmm. This intruder you surprised last night…?"
"May well be the murderer."
Sir Jasper let out a long sigh. He looked away, over the room. "I'd hoped, y'know, that it wouldn't be someone from round about. But if they're still searching…"
"Precisely. It can't be anyone from far afield. They'd be noticed."
"By the same token, given the way we all go about down here, riding day in, day out, it'll be hard to pin anyone down."
Lucifer inclined his head in agreement.
Sir Jasper remained beside him, a frown gathering on his face. Eventually, he drew breath and faced Lucifer. "This business of that hunter shooting at Phyllida…"
"Exactly what I want to know, too."
Sir Jasper and Lucifer glanced around as Jonas ambled up. Hands in his pockets, he met Lucifer's gaze. As usual, he appeared relaxed, ready for any lark. It occurred to Lucifer that, as Phyllida's calm serenity was often a mask, so, too,
Jonas's insouciant good humor concealed something more. There was certainly nothing insouciant in his hazel eyes.
"I know Phyl said it was a hunter, but I can't see it myself. Ridiculous time and place to go shooting. And whyever did she burn that bonnet?"
"She burned her bonnet?" Sir Jasper gazed across the room at his daughter.
"So Sweetie said." Jonas studied Phyllida, too.
"Why on earth would she do that?"
Because she'd been frightened and destroying the bonnet had been her way of putting the incident from her. Lucifer could understand that. For all her intransigence, Phyllida was too intelligent not to be afraid.
"What I want to know is: Is she in any danger?"
It was Jonas who voiced the question. To Lucifer's relief, it wasn't directed specifically at him; he couldn't answer truthfully. He shifted; it went against his grain to keep Sir Jasper and Jonas in the dark. To his mind, they had a right to know-had a right to protect daughter, sister.
Lips shut tight against any unwary word, he canvassed his options, but there wasn't any way to warn them that it looked like the murderer was indeed after Phyllida-they'd immediately ask why. "I saw her out walking, coming back from the church. I noticed she had a groom with her."
"Did she? Now that's a first." Jonas glanced at him. "I wonder why."
"Perhaps the shock of being shot at." Lucifer kept his tone light. "Who knows what goes on in the minds of women?"
Sir Jasper snorted. Jonas grinned.
After a moment, Sir Jasper said, "I don't like this business of a murderer running loose among us. No telling where it might end. I might just have a word with the male staff-no need to let Phyllida know."
"A general increase in watchfulness wouldn't hurt."
"She'll hear of it," Jonas said. "You know she will. Then she'll just reorganize things her way."
"Humph!" Sir Jasper's frowning gaze remained on his daughter. "I'll do it anyway. With luck, by the time she learns of it, we'll have this miscreant by the heels."
Lucifer hoped so. Leaving Sir Jasper and Jonas, he strolled down the room to negotiate with the musicians laboring in a corner. After that, he headed toward the chaise Phyllida was sharing with the Misses Longdon.
He bowed to all three ladies. They had barely exchanged five words before the opening bars of a waltz filled the room. The Misses Longdon tittered; neither danced, but they eagerly scanned the room to see who of their neighbors would partner whom.
Lucifer caught Phyllida's eye and bowed again. "If you would do me the honor, Miss Tallent?"
She inclined her head and gave him her hand. He raised her and drew her into the dance, into his arms. The Misses Longdon twittered furiously.