“So then—”
The stablemen continued, detailing how Snickert had got into the abbey, first to plant the adder, then the scorpion, by using a secret tunnel that led from the Dower House priest hole, hidden behind the mantelpiece in the dining room, to the chapel on the first floor of the abbey.
Ryder turned to his half siblings. “What tunnel?”
They all blinked at him. “Didn’t you know?” Godfrey asked.
When Ryder shook his head, Kit humphed. “I suppose we all just assumed you did.”
Turning back to the stablemen, Ryder gestured for them to continue. With a prompt here and there from Mary, and a question from Rand, they confirmed the entirety of Snickert’s actions on Lavinia’s behalf, ending with them using Mary to bait their trap for him, and then locking him and Mary in the cellar beneath the basement.
“Snickert thought the poisoned water was a nice touch, and apparently her ladyship agreed. We thought when her ladyship came home, we’d be opening up the door under the sacks there and finding your dead bodies laid out all neat and nice.” The stableman looked at him with a certain shrewd acceptance. “Weren’t to be, though, was it? Told Snickert it were never a good thing to cross swords with a nob.”
Ryder met his gaze. “You should have listened to your own advice.”
The older man inclined his head. “Aye, so I should.” He straightened. “So, what now?”
“Now I’m going to hand you over to my men. They’ll take you to the abbey—there’s a holding cell there. You’ll be placed in it until I can summon the constables to take you away.”
“Wait.” Rand walked to Lavinia and halted directly in front of her. He looked into her face. “Do you deny any of what they’ve said?”
She looked flatly back at him, then sneered. “Of course not.” She glanced at Ryder with naked hate. “I’m just sorry I couldn’t find more competent staff.”
Rand studied her for a moment more, then turned and faced Ryder. “Kit and I will take her upstairs and lock her in her room.”
Ryder nodded. “The rest of us will wait in the drawing room.” Without looking at Lavinia, he reached for Mary. “We’ll need to discuss what to do.”
Twining her arm with his, Mary walked beside him out of the basement, collecting Stacie and Godfrey as they went, leaving Rand and Kit to deal with their mother.
Now very definitely a murderess.
Tea was the universal remedy.
At Mary’s suggestion, Caldicott, who had remained on duty, brought in a tray. In addition to two teapots, he’d set out some pound cake on a plate.
Watching Godfrey crumble a slice rather than eat it, Mary said, “You must be starving.”
Godfrey looked down at the mound of crumbs, sighed. “I am—but I don’t think I’ll be able to eat anything in this house again.”
Stacie shivered. “Let alone in Chapel Street.”
Mary glanced at Ryder, then reached out to close her hand around one of Stacie’s. “Don’t worry about that. You’ll be staying with us, of course.” She looked across at Godfrey. “Both of you.”
The looks of relief combined with real gratitude that passed over their faces were heart-wrenching.
The door opened and Randolph, followed by Kit, walked in.
Mary held up the teapot, a question in her eyes. Randolph caught his breath, then saw the glass of brandy in Ryder’s hand. “Ah—no, thank you.” He turned to see Kit already at the sideboard pouring two glasses. “That speaks more to my need.”
Once Randolph and Kit, glasses of brandy in hand, had settled in two armchairs, Ryder glanced around the circle, then said, “So what do we do?”
“It has to be incarceration,” Randolph declared. “The only question is where.”
Kit nodded and leaned forward, cradling his glass between his hands. “It can’t be here, for obvious reasons, nor yet on any of the family estates—too hard to keep it secret. Yet where else is possible, and—more to the point—I’m not sure I would trust anyone except us not to be drawn in by her . . . well, her ways.”
Grimly, Godfrey nodded. “She doesn’t look like a woman who would pull out her scarf pin and stab a man through the eye.”
Stacie didn’t say anything, just hugged herself tighter.