Page 102 of Death at a Highland Wedding
“Marrying her to the guy she was supposed to marry. Because if you backed out, things would get tricky.”
“Yes. Duncan says there are marks on her stomach showing a pregnancy, but I was inexperienced enough that I would not have thought it odd if she wished to keep the lights out and her nightgown on.”
“If you didn’t marry her, then her parents would also have a broken engagement to contend with. That would have made people look closer. Too close.”
His hands clench and unclench. “Which is exactly what I inadvertently subjected her to. I am horrified and shamed, and I cannot even properly apologize because I should not know about the pregnancy.”
“Unless it has to come out,” I say. “But if it doesn’t, then it shouldn’t. My sense is that Violet’s melancholy wasn’t because you ended the engagement as much as a combination of events. The pregnancy, the shame of that, and the fact it meant her marital prospects were limited to the guy she’d been promised to.”
“Isla thinks I should still speak to her. Apologize and admit that I did not understand how the broken engagement would affect her.”
There’s an inflection in his voice that adds a question to the statement. He’s hoping Gray and I will disagree with Isla. No one likes to apologize, even when theyaresorry. There’s always the fear of not finding the right words, of making things worse.
Gray and I only nod, and McCreadie deflates, but bounces back with a wry smile. “I really should. I have told myself that I already apologized, but that was for the act, not the consequences. I will do that.”
“I have news, too,” I say. “I spoke to Mrs. Hall. The ring and hair ribbon are definitely Lenore’s, and she did go by Nori when she was young. Putting that aside temporarily, I have a question.” I look at McCreadie and Gray. “I overheard Ezra saying he’d been up here more often than Archie. Did he come up on his own?”
McCreadie nods. “Archie was occupied with the whisky business, and I believe there was some arrangement for Ezra to manage his affairs here. Check on the running of the estate while enjoying a holiday, as his current job obligations were not onerous.”
“Was it multiple trips? One extended trip?”
McCreadie looks at Gray, who says, “My understanding was that it was two or three visits of a fortnight apiece. Ezra was, in effect, managing the estate. I believe when Hugh says it was an arrangement, he means that Archie paid him for it. As I understand it, they were discussing the possibility of Ezra doing that on a permanent basis, if the whisky business succeeded as well as it seems poised to do.”
“If Archie made enough on whisky, he’d hire Ezra to work here and manage the estate in his absence.”
McCreadie nods. “It would also allow Fiona to enjoy the estate while Archie was busy. Ezra was glad that Fiona seemed to like the place and suggested to Archie that she could come up more often. Naturally, Ezra would need to move to one of the cottages while she was here, for propriety’s sake, but with the staff on site, it would be acceptable.”
“Is there any way of knowing when Ezra was here?” I ask.
“I believe the last time was this spring? Early May? Perhaps late April?” He pauses, and then his eyes narrow. “This is not idle conversation. What are you thinking?”
I reach into my pocket and pull out the folded note from the coach.
“‘He deserved it for what he did to Nora,’” I read aloud. “We believe the last word is ‘Nori,’ not ‘Nora.’ Lenore Hall, who quit her position as maid in early May, after which her mother says she fell into a state of melancholy.”
McCreadie’s expression goes grave. “Because she had been molested by Mr. Müller.”
“That’s the obvious conclusion, but we managed to broach the possibility, and Mrs. Hall didn’t think it was likely.” I lift a hand. “Yes, she’s Lenore’s mother and might not know, but Isla and I have discussed this. We don’t think that’s the case. Her mother believed she was courting a young man shortly before that, and she suspects the end of that courtship was the cause of both Lenore quitting her job and becoming depressed.”
“All right.”
“After Isla and I spoke to Mrs. Hall, I went back to ask her one more question. When Duncan and I went to see Dr. Rendall, a young boy thought it was Archie who died. That made it seem that the note”—I wave it—“referred to Archie. He deserved his death for what he did. But we had to do cartwheels to apply that to Archie. It’s possible someone would blame him for a girl—Nora or Lenore—being molested on his estate. But when I went back to speak to Mrs. Hall, I asked whether villagers thought Archie was the victim. She says no, most people realized Ezra was the one who died. Clearly the boy we spoke to misheard the message, but are we sure the person who wrote this note also misheard?”
“I… do not understand,” McCreadie says slowly. “You believe Ezra molested Lenore?” He rubs his mouth and shakes his head. “That sounds as if I cannot believe someone I know would do such a thing. I should not say that.”
“I don’t think Ezra molested Lenore,” I say. “Her mother believed she had a sweetheart. Someone she didn’t want to tell her mother about, but who made her very happy.”
“Ezra,” McCreadie says, exhaling the name.
I nod. “Maybe they had a fling. Maybe it was just a flirtation. Hell, maybe it was an infatuation and she mistook his kindness for encouragement. I need to get precise dates from Archie, but I have a feeling, when I do, the end of Ezra’s last visit will align with Lenore quitting her position.”
“She had a romantic disappointment,” McCreadie murmurs. “If there was an affair or a flirtation, Ezra ended it. If it was only an infatuation, he told her he did not reciprocate.”
“Which means the ring and hair ribbon could be a red herring. Or they could be something else, if there was more than an infatuation and Müller knew of it.”
“Blackmail,” Gray says, his first word since I started. “He took them to hold what he knew over Ezra.”
We need to speak to Müller. It’s not yet dark, so we can do that tonight. First we attend to other matters, telling the others where we are going and so on. I take the time to visit the water closet, and I’m leaving just as Alice is coming up the stairs with a bouquet of flowers in each hand and a kitten nestled in the crook of her arm.
