“Don’t, don’t use that dreadful word!” besought Mrs. Scattergood. “Not but what I think you are right. I never did like the man!”
Miss Taverner got up swiftly, and stood leaning one hand on the table, her eyes fixed on the Earl’s face. “You forget, I think, that you are speaking of one who is nearly related to me: of one, moreover, who has earned my trust in a way that must for ever preclude my lending ear to such suspicions. Had my cousin wished to kill Peregrine he would not have stopped his duel with Farnaby last year.”
“I had certainly forgotten that,” agreed the Earl.
“Perhaps you might, but I never shall. Mr. Bernard Taverner had nothing to do with Perry’s disappearance. He dined with friends, and was with them until past midnight.”
“And was it not Mr. Bernard Taverner who recently introduced a servant of his own into your household—a servant who, by the oddest coincidence, is also missing at this moment?” inquired the Earl.
Mrs. Scattergood gave a sharp scream. “Mercy on me, so he did! Oh dear, what will become of us? I shall not sleep a wink to-night!”
“Lord Worth, you shall not make these insinuations!” Miss Taverner said. “If Peregrine was overpowered, so too must Tyler have been.”
“Miss Taverner, you have said that you fear Peregrine may have met with foul play. If your cousin is to be above suspicion, whom do you mean to choose for your villain? Since he has only one arm, Charles, I fear, is ineligible. There remains myself.”
Her eyes sank. “You are wrong. There is another,” she said, in a low voice. “I have—always held him in mind, even though every feeling must be outraged by such a thought! But my father did not trust him. I cannot get that out of my head.”
“Are you referring to your uncle?” asked the Earl. She nodded. “I see. Your cousin, meanwhile, to remain blameless. It does not seem to me very likely, but time will show. I shall hope to be able to send you more certain tidings in a day or two. Until then, I can only advise you to wait with as much patience as you can.”