Chapter 39
By the end of their second afternoon in the castle, Damien had formed an impression of four out of the viscount’s thirteen guests. The remaining nine he met during a midnight supper. Five others were expected to arrive the following day.
The viscount insisted that every lady and gentleman invited to the party was well-known to him. This did not mean that Damien could dismiss them as suspects. Deptford’s admission about his son proved that an enemy could exist in one’s own family.
The castle steward assured Damien in private that letters of character for the old staff and temporary hires had undergone thorough scrutiny.
Only seven guests had participated in the hunting party. Those who remained behind included three middle-aged gentlewomen, an architect, a retired professor, and a young wastrel lord whose wit was his only salvation. The fact that they declined to participate in the hunt did not rule them out as suspicious persons.
Damien decided that his prime subjects were the architect, Sir Norman Finch, and Lord Benham, the amusing young aristocrat, who flanked Emily on either side at the supper. He had no actual reason to suspect the two men, aside from the fact that they were flirting with a lady whose husband sat across the table, glaring daggers at them to no avail.
Worse, Emily indulged their interest with a few shy comments and a smile Damien thought was entirely too enchanting. Finally he caught her eye and frowned his displeasure at this flirtation across the table.
To his astonishment she frowned back at him and returned her attention to Sir Norman.
Damien was not amused. In fact, he was contemplating how he would interrupt their conversation without creating a disturbance when a footman appeared with a bottle that he waved in Damien’s face.
“May I, my lord?”
Damien did not look up at Winthrop. “Yes, please. I would also like a bottle brought to my room tonight.”
“As you wish, my lord.”
“And please ask a chambermaid to deliver another set of towels and see to my wife’s comfort.”
“At which hour should we arrive?” Winthrop asked, pouring the wine into a glass with the steadiest hand Damien had seen.
“Three o’clock would be convenient,” Damien replied, then added, “It appears that Sir Norman also needs his glass refilled. Do be careful not to spill any wine on his fine blue coat. And do me a favor. My second trunk has not yet been delivered to my room. Find it as soon as possible.”