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“Of course not,” she says as she finally releases him. “It sounded important. Is everything all right?”
“I…” Kit glances out toward the street in an impressive show of paranoia. “Let’s go inside, shall we? I have a tea tray ready.”
Rosie doesn’t need persuading. She hugs his arm, and Kit leads her into a cozy sitting room as I switch the feed to a second camera. “What’s this about?” she says as they sit side by side on the love seat, even though there are two armchairs and a separate sofa to choose from. “Are you sure Maisie’s all right? Some people on social media are saying—”
“She’s fine,” he assures her. “The palace isn’t releasing any information right now for security reasons, but no one was seriously injured.”
Rosie nods, and while it might be the camera, she seems paler than usual. “Security reasons? Is something else going on?”
“I…” Kit hesitates. “I’m not supposed to say anything, but…Stephens and the protection officers think the fire was set on purpose.”
Her mouth drops open a split second too late to be truly convincing. “Really? Do they know who…I mean, do they have a suspect, or…?”
Kit stares at his knees, and his hair falls into his eyes, hiding his expression. “You have to swear you won’t breathe a word of this to anyone,” he says, so quietly now that the microphone barely registers his voice.
“Of course,” she says immediately, and she takes his hand in hers. “Kit, you know I won’t say anything. You can trust me.”
Beside me, Maisie is slowly tearing a tissue to shreds. “Liar,” she mutters, and even though I silently agree, I don’t say a word as Kit launches into the story the three of us concocted. Which is, admittedly, less a work of fiction and more what everyone else will think by the time the sun sets.
“Palace security found accelerant in Evan’s sitting room,” he says in a hushed voice. “They think…they think she set the fire. And they think Maisie was the intended victim.”
This time, the surprise on Rosie’s face is real. Not, I suspect, because I’ve been framed, but because Rosie knows that Maisie was never supposed to be targeted.
“They…what?” she gasps, and there’s an eagerness in the way she leans closer to Kit. “You really think it was Evan?”
Kit nods and rakes his hair out of his eyes, not quite looking at her. “I don’t want to, but—what else am I supposed to believe? I just…I never thought she would ever…”
His voice breaks, and for a split second, I forget this isn’t real. Rosie throws her arms around him, pressing her cheek to his. “Oh, Kit,” she murmurs. “I’m so sorry. Of course you had no idea. None of us did. She seemed all right, didn’t she? But she’s had a troubled life, and all that nasty business with her mother…well, sometimes the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree.”
Kit’s entire body tenses, but Rosie doesn’t let go. “I just wish I understood why,” he mumbles into her shoulder. “I thought she loved Maisie. They’ve fought a few times, but that’s normal for sisters, and Maisie’s always been a bit prickly—”
“I’ll show you prickly,” mutters Maisie, and I elbow her in the side.
“—but I never thought Evan would try to kill her,” continues Kit. “It doesn’t make sense.”
Rosie is quiet for several long seconds, her fingers now toying with the ends of Kit’s hair. “Well…maybe it does,” she says, and Maisie and I both go still.
“What do you mean?” says Kit, and he pulls away enough to look at her—but, I notice, he doesn’t untangle himself completely.
“I…” Rosie pauses, and I can feel my heart pounding. For a few seconds, I don’t breathe, terrified she might not finish. But then Kit takes her hand, and I can practically see Rosie melt.
“Go on,” he says gently, lacing his fingers through hers. “I won’t tell anyone. Not if you’d rather I didn’t.”
“It’s important people know,” she says, her voice wavering. “Motive is important. But…they can’t know it came from me, all right?”
“They won’t,” he says, his eyes locked on hers now, and as she stares back, the tension seems to drain from her until she’s curled against his chest.
“Do you know anything about the Legitimacy Act of 1959?” she says, and beside me, Maisie sucks in a breath.
“Er…I’m not acquainted with the particulars,” says Kit, sounding as baffled as I am.
“Well,” says Rosie, and there’s a note of exhilaration in her voice now—either because she has a captive audience in Kit, or because she knows something the rest of us don’t. “It’s all a bit complicated, but it basically legitimizes children born of an adulterous affair—if their parents later marry.”
The way she words this doesn’t sound like her—it sounds like someone fed her this exact phrase, and she’s relishing the chance to pass it on to Kit. But I’m so distracted by the way she says it that what she’s saying doesn’t start to sink in until I feel Maisie’s nails digging into my forearm.
“Ow,” I hiss. “What are you—”
“I know what’s going on,” she says, her eyes wide. “I know why Ben’s doing this.”
