"My Lord Darcy," she said, her plain face looking worried and unhappy, "is it true that you suspect Laird and Lady Duncan of this murder? Because, if so, I must—"
"No longer, my lady," Lord Darcy cut her off quickly. "I think we can show that neither is guilty of murder—although, of course, the black magic charge must still be held against Laird Duncan."
"I understand," she said, "but—"
"Please, my lady," Lord Darcy interrupted again, "let me explain everything. Come."
Without another word, she turned and led the way to the room where Father Bright was waiting.
The priest stood waiting, his face showing tenseness.
"Please," said Lord Darcy. "Sit down, both of you. This won't take long. My lady, may Master Sean make use of that table over there?"
"Certainly, my lord," the Countess said softly, "certainly."
"Thank you my lady. Please, please—sit down. This won't take long. Please."
With apparent reluctance, Father Bright and my lady the Countess sat down in two chairs facing Lord Darcy. They paid little attention to what Master Sean O Lochlainn was doing; their eyes were on Lord Darcy.