Richard opened his mouth, probably to reprimand her, but Tina had had enough of this little scene and decided to answer for herself.
“I was unfortunate enough to come face-to-face with a dangerous man, Mrs. Eversham, and he knows that if he is caught and I identify him, then he will be hanged. I imagine he will do anything in his power to prevent that.”
Her quietly serious tone froze Evelyn’s smile.
“I see,” she said, changing tack. “Then you are most welcome at Eversham Manor, Miss Smythe. Richard was right to bring you here.”
She turned to lead the way inside, and Maria murmured in Tina’s ear, “As if it all belongs to her, miss! The cheek of her.”
But Tina was thinking that perhaps it did belong to Evelyn, and Richard, too. He’d lied to her about other things, why not about his sister-in-law? She was a beautiful woman, and his brother was dead. Was it not entirely possibly they were lovers?
And why oh why did the thought of it hurt so much!
Inside the manor the entrance hall was paneled in dark oak, with a vaulted ceiling in the Tudor style. Tina looked about her, wondering how old it was and how long Richard’s family had been in possession of it. Maria had said he was wealthy—not that Tina cared a jot about that—and yet the house didn’t look as if it had had much care taken of it.
Will, following along behind her, almost ran into her. It was because he couldn’t take his eyes off Evelyn, she was amused to see. “Do you live here the year round, Mrs. Eversham?” he asked, probably hoping he might see her in town at some point.
“I very rarely leave,” she said pensively. “An occasional visit to London to see old friends, but I am unused to all the noise these days. I am afraid I’ve become quite the country bumpkin.”
Richard raised his eyebrows. “You were in London the other week, Evelyn, so don’t play the poor widow. My sister-in-law,” he said to Will, “was an actress before she married my brother and has many friends.”
Evelyn didn’t look pleased to have her version of the story routed, and her response was to pretend not to hear as she instructed a servant to bring tea and refreshments to the sitting room.
“Afterward, I will see you to your rooms,” she said, her smile once more in place. “You are all staying, I presume?”
“Yes, Evelyn, they are all staying. Excuse me for a moment”—it was Tina he looked to—“I need to speak to some of the household. Will?”
The two men went out, and for a moment silence reigned.
“What a very nice room.” Tina made the effort to be polite, and it was a nice room, feminine, with a great many flowery fabrics.
“Yes, I believe it was Richard’s mother’s favorite room,” Evelyn said dismissively. With th
e gentlemen gone, Tina noticed that the other woman’s appealing manner was no longer quite so appealing.
“Do you have any children, Mrs. Eversham?”
Evelyn gave a playful little smile. “Unfortunately not, Miss Smythe.” She made a show of looking about her. “This house is so big, it needs children. Perhaps one day Richard and I . . .” But she chose not to end the sentence, leaving that to Tina’s imagination.
The tea tray arrived, and Tina was glad to sip the hot liquid and partake of several sandwiches, as well as a large slice of fruitcake She’d been feeling queasy from the coach, but now hunger had taken its place.
“Have you many friends in the area?” Tina tried again, when she was feeling more the thing. “You must be always out visiting.”
Evelyn waved a delicate white hand. “When Anthony, my husband, was alive we were always out and about, but since he died I do not seem to get many invitations. They do not want to share their table with a widow in mourning.”
That didn’t sound likely, but Tina thought she knew the real reason Evelyn was not invited, and decided to be frank. “Pardon me, Mrs. Eversham, but I think it is because they do not want a beautiful widow at their table.”
Evelyn appeared pleased with her observation. “Well, perhaps,” she acknowledged with her playful smile.
“Was your husband a young man when he died, Mrs. Eversham?”
Evelyn looked at her impatiently. “Goodness, what a great many questions you ask, Miss Smythe. Yes, he was young. He was murdered.”
Tina was so shocked she almost choked on her fruitcake.
“Oh yes,” Evelyn went on, having got the reaction she’d hoped for. “Shot in the chest, not far from the house. In the woods, in fact. Hasn’t Richard told you?” she added sourly. “I’m surprised. He’s made it his life’s mission to find Anthony’s killer.”
“I didn’t know that. I’m very sorry to hear such a thing, Mrs. Eversham.”