cruelty was more commonly thoughtless. ‘He knew how much I desired to see my sisters. I had not seen my youngest sister since her wedding to Lord Rossdale. I decided to go without him even though he refused me the carriage. So I walked.’
‘You defied him,’ Walsh stated.
‘Yes.’ No use denying it.
Walsh nodded. ‘Go on.’
She wished she could tell what the man was thinking. ‘When Lord Penford’s carriage reached Tinmore Hall, Lord Penford walked me to the door. I entered the house and encountered Lord Tinmore in the hall, waiting for me. He immediately started to accuse me of—of things that were not true. I started up the stairs when Lord Penford opened the door and tried to speak with Tinmore, to tell him he was mistaken—he must have heard Lord Tinmore shouting at me through the door. Tinmore took him to one of the drawing rooms to talk, but only for a minute or two, then Lord Penford returned to the hall and walked out. Lord Tinmore followed him.’
‘Followed him?’ Walsh repeated.
‘Yes.’ Was she telling Walsh too much? ‘Tinmore was angry. First angry at me, then at Lord Penford, but without reason. I never saw him so angry.’
Walsh’s face remained expressionless. ‘Then what?’
She took a breath. ‘Lord Penford left, but Tinmore followed him outside.’ She swallowed. ‘I heard a cry and I ran outside, too. Lord Tinmore was—was on the pavement.’
‘You did not see him fall?’ Walsh asked, somewhat ominously.
‘I did not.’
He glanced away. ‘And in what position did you find him when you came outside?’
She was confused. ‘I—I—he was at the bottom of the steps.’
Squire Hedges spoke, his voice kinder than the other man’s. ‘This is a delicate question, we do realise, my lady. Mr Walsh means for you to describe the position of your husband’s body. Describe how he looked.’
She closed her eyes, but it only made her see it all again. ‘He—he was on his back, his head to one side in—in a pool of blood.’
‘Where were his arms and hands?’ Walsh asked.
‘Up.’ She raised her arms to demonstrate. ‘Up above his head.’
Walsh nodded. ‘Tell us, ma’am, was your husband ill?’
‘Not that I knew of,’ she responded.
But he had been acting strangely that day. Had he been ill? If so, she never should have left him. Although he always refused to allow her to tend to him when he was ill, so what good would her presence have done?
‘He was acting very unlike himself, though. Very irrational,’ she added.
Walsh’s brows rose. ‘Are you referring to your husband’s suspicion that you and Lord Penford were having an affair?’
She felt her cheeks grow hot. ‘Yes. That. There was no reason for him to think such a thing.’
Tinmore could not have known of her infatuation.
‘Come now, Lady Tinmore,’ Walsh began, in a smooth tone that did not ring true. ‘Lord Tinmore was a very old man and Penford...’ he paused significantly ‘...is not. Why would your husband not believe you engaged in a little dalliance?’
Her face turned hot with anger this time. ‘I promised fidelity to my husband and I kept that promise. Lord Penford has always acted as a gentleman ought. He thought he could explain to my husband that my husband was wrong, but Tinmore would not listen. It was as though Tinmore was crazed.’
Walsh’s brows rose. ‘Crazed? But would not a man who suspected his wife of infidelity act crazed?’
She lifted her chin. ‘I do not know. How would I know of such things?’ Except, perhaps, from the loud arguments between her mother and father before her mother ran off with a lover. ‘I do know I never saw my husband behave that irrationally before.’
Of course, she had never so blatantly defied him before. Why had she done so? She could admit to being weary of his dictates and it was true she wanted to see her sisters, to share Christmas with them.
But was it also true she wanted most to see Dell?
Walsh made an incomprehensible sound.
Did he believe her about Dell? Or not?
‘Do you know for certain that your husband did not scuffle with Lord Penford?’ he asked.
Her jaw stiffened when she tried to answer. ‘I did not see what happened.’
Walsh glanced at Squire Hedges, who stood. ‘Thank you very much, Lady Tinmore. That will be all for now. We will be questioning your servants, as well.’
The servants!
She had completely forgotten. This was Boxing Day. The servants would expect the day off. And their boxes. She was supposed to distribute their boxes. She’d scoured the attics and closets and old linens and had found enough cloth and old clothing to make a box for each family. Tinmore was to have given them money and she was to have stood at his side, handing them each a box.
‘Please do not delay in speaking to them,’ she requested. ‘They expect to have the day off.’
Squire Hedges walked around the desk to escort her to the door. ‘We will move as quickly as possible. Dixon will organise them for us.’
Certainly. Dixon would be pleased to do so, Lorene was sure. He would probably be pleased to tell them what to say, as well.
Squire Hedges opened the door for her and she stepped into the corridor where Dixon still stood on guard, but the area soon filled with other voices. Her sisters and their husbands. And Dell, who looked absorbed in his own thoughts.
‘Tess. Genna. I forgot it was Boxing Day. I do not know where Tinmore put the purses for the servants and tenants.’
‘Filkins will know,’ Genna said. ‘I’ll find him.’
She dashed off, but her husband, the Marquis of Rossdale, heir to the Duke of Kessington, marched right past Dixon, entering the room with the Squire and the coroner.
‘What is he doing?’ Lorene asked, alarmed that Rossdale just barged in on the men.
Glenville, Tess’s husband, answered, ‘He wants to be certain they handle this properly. And as quietly as possible.’
She supposed a future duke would have some influence. It was a good thing to have someone even more important than Earl Tinmore to advocate for her.
And for Dell.
‘Surely they will decide that it was merely a horrible accident,’ she said.
‘Dell tells us there will be an inquest,’ Glenville explained. ‘The coroner will have to find jurors and swear them in. They will have to see
