"Indeed not." Phyllida blinked, then dazedly shook her head.
"So, you see, laboring under that misapprehension as we were…" Lucifer continued their explanation, omitting nothing. The ridiculous sight of the hat perched on Cedric's head had effectively removed him from their list of suspects. Cedric took the information that he'd topped the list for some time relatively well. When, cheeks rosy, Phyllida apologized, he waved it aside.
"You had to suspect everyone who wasn't at church that Sunday. As it is, I can't account for my time-"
"Perhaps you can't, but I can."
Both Lucifer and Phyllida turned. Jocasta Smollet rose from a wing chair facing the windows some way down the room. She'd been sitting, hidden from sight when they'd entered.
Cedric got to his feet. "Jocasta-"
Jocasta smiled at him-it was the most natural expression Lucifer had yet seen on her face. "Don't fret, Cedric, but I'm not going to stand by and see your reputation sullied even by suspicion purely on account of my brother's pride. If we're truly to break free of it, then we may as well start as we mean to go on."
Coming to stand beside Cedric, Jocasta looked at Phyllida, and at Lucifer, who had also risen. "Cedric," she said, "was with me that Sunday-the Sunday morning when Horatio was killed."
The announcement was so unexpected, Phyllida simply stared. Cedric harrumphed, then pulled up a chair for Jocasta. "Here-sit down."
She did; Cedric and Lucifer resumed their seats.
Jocasta folded her hands in her lap and regarded Lucifer and Phyllida calmly. "Cedric wished to speak with me about our future-Sunday morning, when both Mama and Basil were in church, was the only time that was possible. He rode up shortly after the carriage left for church. The stable lad who took his horse would remember. We met privately, but our housekeeper, Mrs. Swithins, was in the next room and the door was ajar. She can confirm that Cedric was with me for more than an hour. He left just before the carriage returned from church."
"My dear, if we're going to tell them that much, then we should tell them the rest." Cedric turned to Lucifer and Phyllida. "Jocasta and I were close-oh, for many years. But when I asked for her hand eight years ago, Basil would have none of it. He and I have our differences." Looking down, Cedric shrugged. "Basil wouldn't hear of us marrying, and, well, I dug in my heels and words were exchanged. And then Mama heard of it and she wasn't in favor, either, and things fell into a heap. Jocasta and I stopped seeing each other-we've avoided each other for years. But then Mama started insisting that I marry"-he glanced at Phyllida-"specifically, that I marry you, my dear. Yet the more time I spent with you, the more I thought of Jocasta. I realized she was the only woman I wanted for my wife." He looked at Jocasta, then held out a hand; she took it and smiled.
Face alight, Jocasta said, "Cedric tried to talk to Basil last night, but he's still very set against the marriage." She glanced at Cedric and squeezed his hand. "But we've decided not to waste any more years. Regardless of what Basil and Mama may say-"
"Or my mama, either," Cedric put in.
Jocasta inclined her head. "Regardless, we've decided to marry."
Phyllida found she was smiling. She rose; Jocasta rose, too. Phyllida embraced the older woman, touching cheeks. "I'm so pleased for you."
Jocasta's smile was a little crooked, but she met Phyllida's eyes. "Thank you. I know I haven't been the kindest of souls over the years, but I hope you understand."
"Of course." Beaming, Phyllida turned to hug Cedric. "I wish you both joy."
"Very kind of you, m'dear." Cedric patted her shoulder. "Well"-he blew out a breath-"at least you'll know why, if Mama comes screaming to cry on your shoulder."
Phyllida grinned.
Lucifer shook hands with Cedric and Jocasta, wishing them both well; then he and Phyllida took their leave.
"Well!" Phyllida said as he tooled the carriage down the drive. "Jocasta and Cedric! Whoever would have thought it."
Lucifer kept his mouth shut.
An instant later, Phyllida sighed. "Basil is going to have an apoplectic fit." She smiled and leaned back, the murderer's brown hat, temporarily forgotten, in her lap.
Chapter 17
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The next day was Sunday. Lucifer strode briskly up the common. An onshore breeze flirted with fleecy clouds in the pale blue sky. The last stragglers were making their way into the church; Lucifer joined them, sliding into a pew at the rear.
Scanning the congregation, he searched for Phyllida. He'd driven her home the previous afternoon; they hadn't discussed their next meeting. Leaving Dodswell watching the Manor, he'd come to ask her to spend the day with him, looking at books, reading inscriptions, strolling the lawns… whatever she wished to do.
He located Sir Jasper. Lady Huddlesford and Frederick sat beside him. Miss Sweet was there, too. He couldn't see Phyllida. Or Jonas.
The organ swelled; the congregation rose as Mr. Filing and the small band of choristers paraded in. Lucifer hesitated, then left his seat; he made his way as unobtrusively as he could down the aisle to Sir Jasper's side.