Page 19 of The Case of the Curate

“There are no reasons to suppose so, sir,” Paxton said, much to Kate’s relief. “In my opinion it would not have been possible for her to do so. The blade pierced her heart without striking any obstruction, and was then twisted to cause maximum injury. It was no accident, either.”

Kate felt sick. No doubt the coroner had heard it all before, for he merely nodded curtly and turned his head to the jury. “That seems definitive enough. Any questions before you deliver your verdict?”

The jurors exchanged alarmed glances, mumbled, and shook their heads.

“Verdict, then? How do you find Dinah Fenn died?”

Another bout of mumbling and muttering and then one of them was shoved to his feet.

“Murder,” he muttered, “by person or persons unknown.”

There was really no other verdict they could have given in the circumstances, but somehow Kate was unsatisfied. It was all too rushed. No questions had been asked about Dinah’s circumstances or about the ornate weapon that had killed her.

The coroner set down his pen. “So noted. Remove the body for burial. Mr. Remington, the matter is in your hands.”

And that appeared to be that. The room emptied through the outside door, the coroner leading the way and Remington herding the jury out in front of him. Paxton and Chadbon left closely behind the magistrate, and two men entered to remove the body.

Rupert sat perfectly still, watching the procedure. Kate imagined a blast of loneliness emanating from him. Silly. Rupert had never been lonely in his life.

She stood and pushed her way through the chairs until she sat down beside him.

After a moment, he turned his head. “Very hole-in-the-corner for an inquest.”

“They’re keeping it as quiet as possible for Lord Chadbon’s sake.”

“The weapon is some antique of Chadbon’s.”

Kate felt her eyes widen. “Rupert, what do you know?”

He unwound himself from the cramped chair and stretched. “Not as much as I’d like to. Come on, let’s get out of here.”

As they left, also by the open back door, he cast a last glance over his shoulder at where the body had lain. She felt the shiver go through him.

“Did Dinah have a problem with Lord Chadbon?” Kate demanded.

“No, I don’t think so,” he said distractedly. “Although the dagger was his—I’ve seen it in his collection—anyone could have taken it. It was on display in his study, along with some other old weaponry, when I first called on him.”

“So, any of the guests could have picked it up, and any of the indoor servants, including the visiting maids and valets… Which would appear to rule out Mrs. Thornfield’s theory of a passing madman. Rupert, did you have an assignation with Dinah?”

“I don’t do assignations anymore.”

“That’s not what Amelia told us.”

“Amelia? Your sister Amelia? Oh, well, that was before.”

“Before what?” she demanded.

He glanced at her. His lips quirked upward, though it wasn’t quite a smile. They had just turned into the village high street, and a carriage pulled up beside them. Remington pulled down the window.

“Grande. Might I beg the favor of a word? Oh, good afternoon, my lady.”

She had the impression he hadn’t actually seen her till that moment and wasn’t best pleased by her presence. She inclined her head.

“Of course, sir,” Rupert said courteously. “How might I help?”

“Come up to the house and make a statement, so that we can get this unpleasantness sorted out.”

Kate’s skin began to prickle. A carriage bearing the Chadbon arms trotted past. Through the windows, she glimpsed His Lordship and Dr. Paxton.