Whom the Gods Love by Kate Ross Read Free Book Online Page B

her nursemaid, then later as her lady's maid. On the night of the party, Mrs. Falkland had sent for her shortly before eleven and told her she had a headache and would keep to her room for the time being.
    A little after half past eleven, I went to her room again to see how she was. The door was locked. I knocked, and she let me in. She was still dressed in her evening gown and looked ill. I offered to make her one of my headache remedies, but she said there was no need. She said she was going to lie down and try to rest.
    I went downstairs and stood outside the drawing room.
    Mr. Clare was there, but we didn't speak. Luke came out of the drawing room, and I told him to ask the master to come out and speak to me. The master came out a few minutes later. No, I don't remember him looking at me strangely. I told him my mistress was still ill and wouldn't be coming down again. No, she hadn't asked me to tell him that. I just thought he ought to know. Mr. Adams stood behind him listening, but I didn't take any notice of him.
    I went back to my room in the attic and stayed there sewing. I didn't go to bed, because I thought my mistress might need me. I was alone there till about one o'clock in the morning, when Luke came and told me the master was dead. I went down to speak to Mr. Nichols, the butler, and he asked me to break the news to Mrs. Falkland.
    I went to her room. Her door was still locked. She opened it, and I told her what had happened. At first she had the 'sterics. She kept screaming "No, no!" and flailing with her arms. I comforted her as best I could, and soon she was calm enough to go downstairs and speak to the guests. I'd expect no less of her. If I may take the liberty of saying so, she is the bravest lady I ever knew.
    There was a great to-do after that, but I was sent downstairs to the servants' hall and didn't see much of it. Just before two o'clock the mistress took me with her to Mr. Eugene's room to tell him about the master's death. Mr. Eugene is Mrs. Falkland's half-brother and was staying with her and the master. She tapped on the door, and when he answered we went in. He was in bed and looked as if he'd been asleep. The mistress sat by his bed and told him Mr. Falkland was dead. He looked very shocked, then asked, "How was he killed?" I don't know why he asked that.
    "'How was he killed?'" Julian repeated. "Why not simply 'How did he die?' Well, one thing is clear from Martha's statement: she has no alibi. She might have been anywhere between ten minutes to midnight and a quarter after."
    He perused her statement again. "I'm devilish curious about this headache of Mrs. Falkland's. She's not a vapourish woman. In fact, she strikes me as one of those people who think it a disgrace to be ill. When I saw her today, she was obviously worn down with grief and still recovering from a stomach ailment Sir Malcolm says she had a few days ago, but she kept insisting she was perfectly well."
    "So you think there's something in the story that she left the party because she and Mr. Falkland had a row?"
    "What does she say about that?"
    "She didn't give a written statement. The magistrates didn't like to ask—bereaved widow, sir, you understand. But she did answer a few questions. Says she went upstairs at about a quarter to eleven and stayed there nursing her headache till she heard about the murder. Except when Martha came to look in on her, she saw nobody, and nobody saw her."
    "In other words—no alibi."
    "Not the ghost of one, sir."
    "I'm sorry to hear that. I assume she denies any quarrel with Falkland?"
    "Oh, yes, sir. Took offence at the very idea."
    "So she would, if it really is a slander. But so she might equally, if it were true. Whether she had a hand in his death or not, it would be devilish awkward if he were killed an hour after she retired to her room in a temper with him."
    "Mr. Poynter backs her story, sir—that's something." 
    Julian's brows flew up. "Felix Poynter? Is he mixed up in this?"
    "I