Page 70 of The Mad Marchams

“Sorry, we can’t afford an elephant.”

Freddy sighed as he handed her the bowl of potatoes. “It’s a shame Father never thought to open a safari park like some of his peers. We could’ve had a lot of fun.”

“You probably would’ve been eaten by something years ago.”

“Possibly,” Freddy conceded. “But what a way to go.”

As she ate, Mabel kept a close eye on Felicity and her occasional interaction with Ted who was very properly dividing his attention between Felicity and her grandmother. Freddy was brilliant at keeping the conversation going, and Mabel appreciated the lightness of his touch, and his ability to bring the best out of everyone except his brother. It was an endearing quality he shared with Colin.

Whom she loved to pieces.

A piece of potato fell off her fork and rolled into the centre of the table where it came to rest right in front of the dowager countess.

“Sorry about that.” Mabel shot to her feet, speared the potato, and sat back down, her cheeks bright red as the enormity of what she’d just admitted to herself hit her. “It just got away from me.”

“Perhaps if you used your knife and fork in harmony, you might have anchored it to your plate better, dear,” the dowager said. “The American style of eating with only a fork does have its limits.”

Now everyone was looking at her, and Mabel had to decide what to do about the rogue potato that had gathered a coating of dust and cat hair on its adventure across the tablecloth. She couldn’t put it back in the bowl or on the side of her plate in case she accidentally ate it.

“Here.” Freddy handed her his handkerchief. “Pop it in there and I’ll give it to one of the dogs in the kitchen.”

She did as he suggested. “You really are the best.”

Mabel ate the rest of her meal as quietly as possible and wondered where Colin had gone. She tried texting him but received no reply. After another half an hour passed, she did a quick search and then headed back to the dower house.

She found him sitting in the kitchen at the table with a cup of tea beside him.

“Are you okay?” she asked.

“Not particularly.” He looked up at her, his expression uncharacteristically grim. “You probably think I’m an emotional fool.”

“Why would I think that?” She sat beside him.

“Because I was upset about the idea of disturbing my mother’s memories while the job had already been done by countess’s two and three.”

“Freddy did say that a lot of the things ended up in the attic, so you could⁠—”

He talked over her. “She also said that Eric knew, and of course, he took advantage of it.” He shook his head. “And no one thinks the worst of him for doing so.”

“Perhaps that’s because he’s dead,” Mabel suggested as she realized that perhaps this wasn’t about his mom after all. “People tend to be kinder about people who are no longer with us.”

“Eric could do no wrong in life or in death.”

“What makes you say that?” Mabel held his gaze.

“I’m sure you know the answer. Everyone’s probably told you that I killed him.”

“Did you?”

He frowned. “Of course I bloody didn’t.”

“Okay, I believe you.” Mabel sat back and crossed her arms. “Now tell me why everyone believes that you did.”

Colin let out a breath. “It’s complicated.”

“And I’m a smart woman.” She held his gaze until he sighed and looked down at his mug.

“Okay. Eric came home for Christmas after his first term at Cambridge and he treated us all appallingly. He’d never been particularly nice to us, but he was much worse—belittling Felicity, physically intimidating Freddy…” He frowned. “I tried my best to protect them, but he just wouldn’t stop, and of course my father wouldn’t listen to a word against him.”