"Praise be!" Conlan struggled to his feet and bowed. "Welcome home, m'lord-and I thank the Lord I can finally tell you. It wasn't you I saw."
"How can you be so certain?" Martin asked, once they'd all sat and Betsy had closed the door. "I can understand you being unsure if it was me or not, but how can you be certain it wasn't me? There's no way even you could have distinguished features at that distance."
"Aye, you're right there, but it wasn't features that told me." Conlan sat back in his chair, gathered his resources. "Let me tell it like it was, then you'll see how it happened."
Martin nodded the permission Conlan waited for.
"I saw the figures on the Edge, wrestling, fighting, then I saw the young gen'leman shove old Buxton over. I knew it was Buxton 'cause of that yellow-striped waistcoat of his. I ran and fetched Simmons and Tucker, and Morrissey, too. Others joined us as we ran to the cliff. Tucker asked who'd thrown Buxton over. I said'twas a young gen'leman looked like you. Well-you were the only young gen'leman we had round about, and we all knew what you looked like, even from a distance. And I'll still take my oath on it-the gen'leman who threw Buxton over looked just like you. At the time, that's all I said-all I really knew, clear in my mind. And then we found you, and it fitted. You'd done it. Even though you said otherwise, what was we to think with you standing there with the rock in your hand and Buxton dead at your feet?
"So we hiked you to your Da, and he acted swift-that was a shock, I can tell you. We never expected he'd up and send you away like that. But it was done… we all went home." He nodded to the window. "I sat right here, and heard the carriage rumble past as they took you south."
Conlan sighed. "I tried to sleep but there was something nagging at me. Wouldn't let me go, kept forcing me to see it all again and again in my mind, see the gen'leman force Buxton to the lip and over. Buxton was no fool-he hadn't been walking close to the lip. The other had to force him back, and o' course he didn't go easily… that's when it all came clear and I knew we'd got it wrong."
Martin frowned. "How? What did you remember?"
"It was the quirt the gen'leman was carrying. He used it on Buxton. I saw it clearly-saw the gen'leman's arm rise and fall, saw Buxton put up his arms to shield his head. That's how the gen'leman forced him to the lip, then he pushed him over. I saw the gen'leman standing there, looking down at Buxton with the quirt still clutched in his hand."
Conlan sighed. "So you see, I knew'twasn't you. Couldn't've been."
Amanda glanced at Martin's face, saw a lightening of the darkness that had always-as long as she'd known him-been there. She turned to Conlan. "Why did that convince you it wasn't his lordship you saw?"
Conlan blinked at her. "The quirt. He never used one. Not ever. Not even when he was first on a pony. We'd all known him since he was a babe-we'd seen him riding for years. No quirt. According to Smithers, used to be head groom at the big house, he never even owned one."
Conlan turned to Martin. "So I knew then, and you may be sure I told everyone who'd listen. In the morning, I went up to the big house, but they wouldn't let me see your Da. I tried to tell them, but there was a great to-do going on. I spoke with old Canter-he tried to speak with your Da but seems they'd been forbidden to say your name. Canter tried, but his lordship wouldn't listen.
"I told myself I'd done my best, but I couldn't let it go. I went into Buxton village and spoke with Sir Francis, but he said as how your Da was the magistrate for this district, and he couldn't see his way to interfere. He told me your Da no doubt had his reasons and I should leave it be."
Conlan paused, then said, "And that's where it's laid. I've been waiting ten year to tell you to your face. I thought you'd be back-that your Da would change his mind,'specially when your Ma died. But you never did return." He lifted wondering eyes to Martin's face.
"They didn't know where I was-they couldn't have called me back." Martin patted Conlan's shoulder. "Thank you for telling me."
He rose; he had to get out of the small cottage. Out where he could breathe. Think. Try to comprehend. His smile felt strained as he took his leave of Conlan and Betsy. Amanda sensed his tension; she chatted brightly, easing their way out of the door.
Martin waved to Dan but kept walking, striding. Amanda's skirts shushed as she hurried to keep up, then her hand clamped on his arm and she yanked. Hauled.
He halted, swung to face her.
"Slow down!" She frowned at him. "You heard-you're not guilty!
He looked down at her. "I always knew that."
"But you never were guilty as far as these people are concerned." She searched his face. "Doesn't that mean anything to you?"
"Yes. It does." He spoke through his teeth, then exhaled, looked over her head. "Only… I don't know what it means." He passed his hands over his face, then cursed and swung away.
Amanda was right beside him. "What do you mean?" Hustling along, she peered at his face. "What do you mean you don't know?"
"I mean-" His whole world was disintegrating before his very eyes. "I-" He couldn't find words to describe the tectonic shift in his thinking. With an oath, he grabbed her arm and towed her past the horses. Stopped by the stone wall of the cemetery. Turned her to the cliffs.
"Look at Froggart Edge. It's much the same time it was that day, the same season. The light's the same. Imagine me standing up there. Now imagine Luc there. Would you-could anyone possibly confuse us?"
Amanda stared. Then she looked at Martin. "You thought it was Luc?"
"I couldn't think of anyone else Sarah would have given herself to, but Luc never carried a quirt, anymore than I did."
They sat on the stone wall, side by side, and he explained.
"Luc knew her, too, not as well as I did, but… well enough. He was always startlingly handsome-I could imagine it happening. And Luc had been at Hathersage for Christmas, and he'd driven up from London ahead of me that day. I knew he was at the house before me-he would have heard of Sarah's death as I did, as soon as he arrived. He had the opportunity to do what had been done, and I thought he had the motive they gave me." His lips twisted. "And as much as they called me wild, Luc was wilder."