“No.” She blinked at his tone; when she continued to stare, he felt forced to explain, “The murderer tried to kill you. Given it’s you he now has his eye on, I’m not willing to take any chances.” He felt his face harden as he added, in case she’d missed the point, “None. Not one.”
She searched his eyes. He could almost see her thoughts whizzing behind her dark eyes, almost see the balance as she weighed his arguments against what she knew of his character, and all that flowed from it.
In the end, she inclined her head. “All right.”
She looked back at the lake; he quietly exhaled.
“Not Lady O, and not Lady Hammond, either.”
He considered, then acquiesced. “Agreed. Similarly, I think we can eliminate Mrs. Archer.”
“But not Mr. Archer.”
“He’s something of a dark horse. I agree—we can’t ignore him.”
“If we follow your line, theoretically at least any of the Glossup men could be responsible.”
He hesitated. “What do you think of Oswald?”
She frowned, then grimaced. “I honestly felt he avoided Kitty—I think because she saw him and treated him as a child.”
“Hardly comfortable for his ego, but . . . unless there’s something that would account for him being transformed into a murderous rage—and I honestly haven’t seen any propensity for that in him—then he seems unlikely.”
“Granted. What about Swanston—do we cross him off for the same reason?”
He frowned. “I don’t think we can. He’s Kitty’s brother—there might have been some bone of contention in their past we know nothing of, and he’s neither as easygoing nor as soft as Oswald. If Kitty had prodded too hard, Swanston could physically have done the deed. Whether he did . . . ?”
“Which brings us to Winifred.” She paused, considering. Eventually said, “Do you really think she might have been angry enough over Kitty’s poaching her suitors—even Desmond, even now—that she might have . . .”
He watched her face. “You know Winifred better than I—do you think she could have?”
For a long minute, she stared out at the dark waters of the lake, then glanced at him, grimaced. “Winifred will have to remain on the list.”
“And Desmond is certainly on it, which, in fact, gives Winifred an even stronger motive.”
Portia pulled a face, but didn’t argue. “Ambrose is on the list, too, which means Lady Calvin and Drusilla must stay on as well.”
After a moment, he asked, “Why Drusilla? I can understand Lady Calvin—she has a great deal invested in Ambrose’s future, and although she’s so reserved, he’s very much the apple of her eye. But as I read things, Drusilla and Ambrose don’t share even the weakest brother-sister bond.”
“True. Nevertheless, Drusilla’s reasons are twofold. One, of us all, she was the angriest at Kitty—Kitty had all the attributes Drusilla lacked, and still she wasn’t content. I’m sure that rankled—Drusilla hadn’t met Kitty before coming down here, so that’s the only explanation I can see for her reaction.”
“And her second reason?”
“Lady Calvin, of course. Not Ambrose, but the pain Lady Calvin would be forced to bear if Ambrose became involved in any scandal.” She met his gaze. “Drusilla is utterly devoted to her mother.”
He raised his brows, but now that she’d pointed it out . . . “That leaves us with the gypsies, or one of the servants.”
Portia frowned. “I might not approve of Arturo slipping through the shr
ubbery at all hours, but I can’t see any reason why he would bother to kill Kitty. If it was his child she was carrying . . .” She stopped. “Oh.”
She looked at him. “Is that a motive do you think? That Kitty told him she was planning on getting rid of the baby . . . don’t gypsies have a code or something about that?”
He held her gaze. “Most men have a code or something about that.”
She colored. “Yes, of course—but you know what I mean.”
“Indeed, but I think you’re forgetting one thing.”