‘You are expecting Bainton to come to meet Mrs Quenten there?’ Sir Andrew asked.
‘I am, sir. I cannot believe that they will not say enough for an arrest. I will show myself the moment I feel we have reached that point but if you feel, as a magistrate, that you have heard sufficient, then you will emerge. Dover will go to block the outside door, my father, the inside one. I will take Bainton if you will deal with Mrs Quenten.’
‘You are Theo’s magistrate, the one who convinced the London Justice not to arrest him,’ Guinevere said. ‘I thought I recognised your name.’
Sir Andrew bowed slightly.
‘Why is Theo not here?’
‘We do not wish to compromise his position,’ the magistrate said. ‘Given the rumours and accusations, the less he has to do with this, the better.’
‘We had best go down now.’ Jared buckled on his sword belt, feeling comfortable for the first time since he had taken it off for dinner. He slid a long knife up the sleeve of his coat. ‘Lady Northam, do not forget to lock your door.’
‘Yes, Lord Ravenlaw.’ She spoke so meekly he looked at her, suspicious, but she said only, ‘Do take care, all of you.’
The house was falling silent around them as they filed downstairs and took up their positions in the dark. Voices floated up faintly from below stairs, then those ceased. Then there was Durrant’s heavy tread as he walked the corridors, stopping to turn the key in the sitting room door and pass on to his hooded chair in the front hall where he would pass the night, dozing.
Jared made himself relax, letting his shoulders drop, steadying his breathing. Beside him he heard Dover ease one shoulder against the wall, his ear close to the crack of the jib door. There would be nothing for a while.
The soft creak of a floorboard behind him sent him spinning round, the knife from his sleeve already in his hand before he saw the faint outline against the uncurtained window and smelled the drift of jasmine fragrance. ‘Guinevere?’
She came closer, her feet silent on the boards, and he realised she was without shoes and dressed in something simple and black.
‘Go away,’ he breathed. ‘Dangerous.’
‘Where you go, I go,’ she murmured.
He had her in his arms kissing her before he realised what he was doing. She clung, moulding herself against him even as he heard the faint rustle as Dover turned away and he got himself under control. ‘Guinevere – ’
She came up on tiptoe, her lips warm against his ear. ‘Always.’
His heart was thudding so loud that it took Dover’s elbow in his ribs to steady him. Then he heard it, the sound of the key in the sitting room door. Jared unlocked the jib door silently but left it closed. Light flooded across their feet then faded. Someone had brought a candle around the screen to check it. Inside the room he could just make out the sound of movement, then the rasp of the faulty lock on the outside door. He eased open the jib door by six inches at the same time and then stood listening. Beside him Guinevere and Dover were silent, still.
She loves me. I’m sure of it. He made himself concentrate, smelling the fresh moorland air coming into the room, hearing the cry of a barn owl, the creaks of the old house settling for the night, the soft-footed pacing of the woman in the room beyond.
‘Miss Lettie?’
Beside him Dover twitched, then steadied himself.
‘Come in.’ Mrs Quenten was speaking quietly but not whispering, she must feel safe. ‘How could you make such a mull of it, you fool? They should have been killed.’
‘Ay
e, they should and I don’t know why not, I wasn’t there, was I?’ Bainton sounded aggrieved. ‘That Hunt is a sharp bugger, he must have spotted something. What do we do now?’
‘Kill all three of them.’ She might have been giving orders to cull some chickens for dinner, Jared thought. Behind him he felt, rather than heard, Guinevere’s gasp. ‘Hunt’s in love with the bitch, or in lust with her, doesn’t matter which. He’ll be jealous if he thinks Master Theo’s getting between her legs. We need to kill her, then get Northam to her chamber, kill him with one of Hunt’s swords.’
‘What about Hunt?’ Thomas sounded incredulous.
As you should be, Jared thought grimly.
‘I’ll bang on his door in a panic, I’ll have heard something that alarmed me. He’ll be off like a dog after a bitch in heat. You hit him as he comes through the door, stab him in the chest.’
‘But, Miss Lettie – ’ He broke off at the sound of the door to the hall opening.
‘Ah, thought I’d find you in here. Good evening again, Mrs Quenten. And Thomas.’
‘Theo.’ Guinevere’s voice was a thread of sound holding pain and betrayal and anger all in two syllables.