“Come now, Gabe. Emily was—”
“—a manipulative bitch!” Gabriel snapped, and didn’t know who was more stunned that he said it, himself or Alec. For just a moment, memories slammed into him. Then he forced them back. He didn’t need to remember, didn’t want to remember. She was dead. That was all that mattered.
“Gabe—”
“Let it alone.” Savagely, he shoved himself away from the sideboard, away from his brother. Half-brother. He swung toward the door and stopped abruptly, an unpleasant smile twisting his lips as his gaze fell on Kendra hovering in the doorway. His eyes burned as they took in the wet hair and damp dress. “Well, well, well. If it ain’t the little maid. Or companion now. You’re a saucy bit of baggage, aren’t you? Bettering yourself through Lady Rebecca. You should have come to me, Miss Donovan. I’m certain I would’ve found a position for you, one more enticing than being required to fetch a Lady’s handkerchief.”
“Gabriel.” Alec’s tone was a low warning.
“When you are finished with her, of course, Sutcliffe,” he tossed back viciously. “I daresay I couldn’t take anything away from you even if I tried.”
Kendra took a small step to the side as Gabriel, his face flushed with anger and alcohol, brushed past her. Thoughtfully, she stared after him until he disappeared around the corner. Then she glanced back at Alec. Unlike the younger man, his face was set in hard, impassive lines. The only thing that suggested temper was the way he held himself, and the glittery light in his green eyes.
“What was that about?”
“You look like a drowned rat, Miss Donovan. Go change before you catch a chill.”
“Your brother seems to have a problem.”
“Apparently my brother’s problem is me.”
Kendra frowned. “It seems more than that.”
He glared at her. “My brother had nothing to do with that girl. He was here at the castle the night that she was murdered.”
“Are you certain?”
“Stop. Stop stirring up trouble, Miss Donovan.” He shot her an angry look before he, too, brushed past her, following in his brother’s footsteps.
Alone, Kendra shivered, becoming aware of the damp fabric clinging to her skin. Alec was right; she needed to change into dry clothes. But he was wrong about her making trouble.
Trouble was already here.
27
No one wanted to think that one of his friends could be a murderer. That went double for relatives.
Alec and Gabriel had a combative relationship. Even so, the marquis had made it clear that he wasn’t receptive to regarding his brother as a possible suspect. Too bad Kendra couldn’t accommodate him.
She bided her time through another long dinner, and the even more tedious after-dinner small talk in the drawing room. When the men finally filed in, several ladies gathered at the harpsichord to show off their musical talent in an impromptu concert.
Surveillance and patience, Kendra knew, went hand in glove. She was rewarded when she watched her quarry slip out the French doors. After a moment, she followed.
He was slouched against the stone balustrade, his back to her, staring out into the dark gardens. As she watched, he lifted his arm and she caught the metallic glimmer in the moonlight as he lifted his flask to his lips.
“It stopped raining,” she commented.
Gabriel froze, and then he slowly lowered the flask. His eyes gleamed at her over his shoulder; his grin, a wicked slash of white in the darkness. “Ah . . . the little maid. No . . . the companion—pretty, improper Miss Donovan.”
“These dinners tend to go on, don’t they?”
He gave her a mocking smile that reminded her of Alec. “Better to attend the dinner than clean up after, eh?”
So much for being polite. “I’d like to ask you a couple of questions, Gabriel.”
“The correct form of address is Lord Gabriel Morgan. Or Lord Gabriel. Or simply my Lord.”
“Lord Gabriel, then.”
“’Course if you’re really nice to me, I might let your familiarity stand.” He gave her an insolent once-over, lingering on her chest before slanting back up to meet her gaze.
She ignored the innuendo. “Where were you last Sunday evening?”
“Is this about the whore’s death?”
“That whore was a person. A child, really.”
Something dark and ugly flickered behind his eyes. “She was a woman who used her body to entice men, manipulate them for her own greed.”
“That’s pretty harsh. Sounds like you don’t like women much.”
“Oh, I like women. In their place.” He lifted his flask again to take another swallow. Kendra noticed his hands were shaking. “You don’t know your place, do you, Miss Donovan?”
“You haven’t answered the question.”
He glared at her. “Why the devil should I? What gives you the right to quiz me like I am a common criminal?”
“Why don’t you just answer the question? Got something to hide?”