Rayburn swung down from the phaeton. “Despite your reservations, we’d best get inside. Just in case Morland did decide to follow us.” He squinted toward the gates. “Although I saw no indication of such.”
That convinced both women.
Scrambling down, they abandoned the carriage and scurried up the steps and through the door, Rayburn at their heels.
“Lady Aurora? Miss Johnston?” Siebert’s brows drew together at their harried state. “Is something amiss?”
“Yes, something is very amiss,” Rayburn answered. “These young ladies needed an escort home. I provided one—me.” With that, he turned to the butler. “You must be Siebert. My name is Rayburn. The earl has engaged my services on a particular business matter. I know he left Pembourne early this morning. Has he returned yet?”
“No.” A glint of understanding lit Siebert’s eyes. “His lordship alerted me to the fact that he’d employed you—and in what capacity. He also advised me that it was possible you might, at some point, need to come directly to Pembourne to meet with him. I presume that occasion has arrived. Please make yourself comfortable in the earl’s study. He’s due back within the hour.”
“No!” Courtney burst out.
Both men stared at her.
“What I meant was, why not show Mr. Rayburn into the yellow salon. ’Tis far more comfortable than the study. And we can provide him with some refreshment until the earl’s return. Don’t you agree, Aurora?” Courtney gave Aurora a not-the-study look.
“Absolutely,” Aurora concurred. “The yellow salon would be ideal.”
“Except for the fact that the viscountess is already occupying that room,” Siebert inserted, gazing at Courtney and Aurora as if they’d gone quite mad.
“Elinore is here?” Aurora asked.
“Indeed—for the better part of an hour.”
“Splendid. Then we can all take tea together.” Aurora seized Mr. Rayburn’s arm. “Please, won’t you join us? I still have many questions. For example, how did you know who I was? When you accosted me behind that tree, I assumed you thought I was an intruder. Then you called me by name, demanded to know what we were doing at Morland, and, more specifically, what Miss Johnston was doing in the manor. I’m terribly impressed.”
“Don’t be,” Rayburn replied with a flicker of amusement. “Your brother provided me with the names and descriptions of both you and Miss Johnston. It’s fairly routine for me to familiarize myself with the potential victims of the subject I’m scrutinizing.”
Siebert had turned positively green. “You went to Morland?” he managed.
Aurora rolled her eyes. “Yes, Siebert, we did. And we’re back, safe and sound. Now, please, I beseech you not to lecture us. As it is, Slayde will probably choke us with his bare hands.” She turned to Courtney, her face alight with interest. “Tell me again how Morland looked just before you bolted. Do you really think you provoked him into revealing his guilt?”
“I certainly hope so,” Courtney muttered. “If not, I took ten years off my life and am about to be choked for naught.”
“Perhaps you’d best show Mr. Rayburn into the yellow salon,” Siebert croaked. Turning, he headed down the hall. “I’ll arrange for the tea.”
“No need.” Miss Payne scurried out of a nearby anteroom at that moment. “I was about to bring some refreshment to the viscountess. I’d be happy to provide enough for Lady Aurora, Miss Johnston, and…forgive me, sir…?” She inclined her head quizzically at the investigator.
“Rayburn,” he supplied.
“Mr. Rayburn.”
“Thank you, Miss Payne.” Siebert took out a handkerchief and mopped at his brow. “Then I’ll maintain my post.” He cast a sidelong glance at Aurora. “And await the duke’s return.”
Elinore rose gracefully when Courtney and Aurora escorted Rayburn into the yellow salon. “Good afternoon,” she said with a smile. “I see you’ve brought a guest.”
“Hello, Elinore.” Aurora indicated for Rayburn to have a seat on the sofa. “This is Mr. Rayburn. He’s an investigator. Slayde hired him to scrutinize Morland’s estate.” Seeing the investigator start with surprise, she explained, “Elinore is like part of the family. We have no secrets from her.”
Reluctantly, he nodded.
“Rayburn, this is the Viscountess Stanwyk.”
“My lady.” He bowed, politely waiting until all the women had been seated before perching at the edge of the sofa.
“Mr. Rayburn.” Elinore folded her hands in her lap, turning her concerned gaze on Aurora. “I take it Slayde is still as adamant as ever about proving Lawrence Bencroft’s guilt.”
“So are we,” Aurora responded.