Page 64 of Secrets of the Heart

“There is the unresolved matter of his wife’s death. I have been continuing to investigate it. I spent two or three evenings talking to some of the male servants in a tavern, but none of them offered anything particularly interesting, other than an indication that few people liked that chap Hargreaves and that he had not worked for the Birkshaws long before Mrs. Birkshaw was taken ill.”

“I see. What will you do next?” Rachel asked, interested despite herself.

“Well, you and I had discussed visiting Anthony Birkshaw. I thought perhaps we might do that today…if you were still in town, that is.”

Rachel looked at him for a long moment. “Are you saying that you and I should continue to work together on this investigation?”

He shrugged. “I see no reason why we cannot. I would think that you would have an interest in seeing that the truth is found out about Mrs. Birkshaw’s death. You have in the past expressed a belief that I would not be entirely fair to Mr. Birkshaw. I presume your presence during the investigation and your influence upon it would ensure that he received fair treatment.”

“Are you bribing me to stay here by offering me a chance to work with you on this investigation?”

“Yes.”

A startled laugh escaped Rachel. “Well, you are very blunt this morning.”

“I am trying to be completely truthful with you,” Michael responded, and his gray eyes warmed a little with humor. “I found it much more enjoyable working with you than by myself, and our discussions were…not only pleasant but enlightening.”

He looked down at the table, seemingly finding something engrossing in the pattern of the cloth. “Please stay. Give me a chance to redeem myself.”

Rachel ignored the little flutter in her stomach. “All right,” she agreed. “I will stay to help Mr. Birkshaw.”

“Of course.” Michael raised his head and smiled at her.

Rachel stood up and went to the sideboard to fill her plate. Her appetite, she discovered, had returned.

16

Rachel and Michael walked to Anthony Birkshaw’s house. They said little, the awkwardness that was so common to them even more pronounced than usual. Rachel glanced over at him as they walked. She wished that she could still feel the burning anger at him that she had felt last night. Then she had felt powerful. Righteous. Now all that was left of that fire was a sad ache.

At Michael’s request, Rachel had not sent a note to Anthony to say that they would be calling on him. He wanted to surprise the man, Michael had explained, feeling that they would get the most honest response from him in that manner. It was clear from Anthony’s expression as he came forward to greet them that they had indeed succeeded in surprising him.

“Lord Westhampton. Lady Westhampton. I—it is very good of you to visit me. Please, sit down.” He gestured vaguely toward a grouping of chairs. Would you care for some refreshment?”

At their negative response, Anthony closed the doors of the drawing room and came back to sit across from them. “Does this mean that you have learned something? Have you found out if Doreen was…?” He hesitated.

Michael shook his head. “We have learned a little. But not enough to know whether her death was by misadventure. Everyone involved at the time seems to think that it was illness.”

“Yes. So did I,” Anthony agreed.

“Then why did you approach my wife about it?” Michael asked coolly.

“Oh. I, ah…well, I just began to wonder about it. It—it seemed odd in retrospect, her dying like that. And so young.” Birkshaw broke off, glancing at Michael.

Michael gazed back at him without saying anything, his disbelief clear. Anthony looked toward Rachel as if for help, but she simply watched him, too. Anthony shifted in his chair, appearing very much as if he wanted to be elsewhere.

Finally he said, “Very well. I see I must tell it. It…is so odd, I could not bring myself to say anything before. But I—well, a few weeks ago, I received a letter, and inside it was a piece of metal.”

“Metal?” Rachel repeated, surprised.

Birkshaw nodded. “Yes, obviously snipped from a tin of rat poison. It had enough writing that I could tell as much. Arsenic, you see. Well, I had no idea what to make of that. It was disturbing. I—Was someone threatening me? Why? But then, later, I got a second letter. It had printing inside, large and awkward-looking, like a child’s writing. It said, ‘Favor for favor.”’

“What?” Rachel asked. “What does that mean?”

Michael said nothing, merely watched Anthony.

“I don’t know!” Anthony cried, lifting his hands. “I couldn’t understand. But…but it also said, ‘Arsenic remains in the body after death.”’

He turned to Michael, his face pale and sick-looking. “I think they were talking about Doreen.”