“Yes,” Derek murmured, setting his wineglass on the tray. “Yes, I quite see.”
“No,” Emma broke in. “You don’t see at all. None of you do.” She reached for Derek’s hand and hoped that Peter would forgive her. “Peter did go into the garden that morning, but he didn’t spend any time there. He was in the chapel until the shouting started; then he slipped out through the back door and went around the outside to the cliff path. You can check with the Tregallis brothers. They saw him go out there.” She pulled Derek around to face her. “He didn’t want to get into trouble for hanging around the chapel. That’s why he told you he was—”
“Shouting?” Newland spoke from the doorway, then came to stand over Emma. “Did you say that the boy heard shouting?”
“Well ... yes,” Emma replied, unnerved by the man’s hawkish gaze. “That’s what he told me.”
“First I’ve heard of any shouting,” Newland growled. He surveyed the other faces in the room. “Any of you lot forget to tell me about shouting?”
As murmurs of denial sounded all around her, Emma tried to recall whether she or Nell had cried out upon finding Susannah. She was sure they hadn’t. She clearly remembered being impressed by Nell’s calmness and amazed by her own, but, before she could open her mouth to reply, she felt a tremor pass through Derek’s body.
“My God,” he murmured, half to himself. “If none of you were shouting, then Peter must have heard someone else.” His head snapped up. “I breakfasted alone that morning. Bantry only stopped by for a cup of coffee.” He grabbed Emma’s arm and pulled her to her feet. “Come on. We’ve got to get up to the nursery.”
As they darted into the darkened hallway, Emma’s mind raced. She refused to believe that Bantry would harm Peter, but he might have lashed out at Susannah. She remembered that first afternoon in the garden, when he’d spoken so harshly against anything that threatened to disrupt the peace of Penford Hall. He’d known where the grub hoe was and he had the strength to wield it. He’d cleaned the oilcloth, as well, and stowed it safely in his cupboard. And now it looked as though he’d tried to cast suspicion on Peter, the one person who might identify his voice and place him in the garden with Susannah at the crucial time.
Footsteps pounded behind them and flashlights glinted maniacally from the rippled panes of leaded glass that lined the long, arcaded corridor. The main staircase loomed ahead and Derek leapt for it, nearly colliding with Bantry, who was hastening downstairs.
Derek seized the old man’s shoulders, shouting, “Where’s my son? What have you done with my boy?” until Newland got to him and wrestled him away.
Bantry took a faltering step backward, then sat abruptly on the stairs, squinting dazedly as half a dozen flashlights focused on his nut-brown face. When he had elbowed his way to Bantry’s side, the duke bent down to ask calmly if Master Peter were still in the nursery.
The old man shook his head. “No, Your Grace,” he said earnestly. “I were just comin’ down to tell you. The boy’s gone. Don’t know how he slipped by me, but he’s not in his bed nor anywhere else up there.” He gripped Grayson’s arm urgently and jutted his grizzled chin toward the windows. “He’s taken his jacket and a torch, Your Grace. Lady Nell thinks he’s out there in that storm.”
Without a second thought, Emma headed down the stairs.
“Where are you going?” Derek cried.
“To the chapel,” she replied, over her shoulder. “Don’t you see? He’s gone to check the window.”
Derek shook off Newland’s hold and plunged down the stairs after Emma, while Grayson hung back, issuing rapid orders to his troops. The last thing Emma heard before reaching the entrance hall and turning for the dining room was Nanny Cole calling out to Kate to phone for Dr. Singh.
“Should’ve brought the flashlight,” Derek muttered as they groped their way through the darkened dining room.
“I don’t think it’d be much use out there,” Emma said. The wind buffeted the French doors, and rain gusted in sheets against the panes. “I won’t be much use, either,” she added, raising a hand to her glasses. “I won’t be able to see a thing.”
“We’ll be even, then,” Derek said wryly. He reached for the door handles and, when Emma nodded, he flung the doors wide.