‘I know it is difficult for you, my love, but when Wolfgang Arrandale came to me for help I could not refuse him.’
‘And you truly believe he is innocent?’
‘I do, Grace. Even more, I fear someone has deliberately put the blame on him. The tragic events of Mrs Wolfgang’s death might have been used to cover the theft of the necklace, but it could be something much more sinister.’
A cold chill ran down Grace’s spine.
‘He showed me the spot where he found her. Papa, it was directly beneath the balcony. What if...what if he lost his temper with his wife and pushed her over the balcony? Itispossible, is it not, Papa?’
‘Yes, it is possible,’ he replied. ‘But he has returned here to prove his innocence. Surely that is in his favour?’ He gripped her hands. ‘He asked for my help, Grace, and I cannot deny him.’
No more can I.
Grace felt a band tighten around her heart. Papa was such a good man he would not think ill of anyone. She was far less sure of her own reasons for wanting to help Wolf Arrandale.
‘No, of course not, Papa.’ She kissed his cheek. ‘Tomorrow I shall see Loftus and tell him I am going to London.’
* * *
Grace was not looking forward to her visit to Hindlesham and she delayed it as late as possible the following morning by taking baskets of food to the needy. The last of the baskets was for Mrs Owlet, the widow who had broken her leg. The visit was not strictly necessary and Grace admitted it was an attempt to learn more about the Arrandales, but if she was hoping for reassurance then she was sadly disappointed. When Grace broached the subject the widow was scathing in her condemnation of the family.
‘The old man was a villain,’ she said, almost spitting with hatred. ‘Dying like that and leaving us all to fend for ourselves.’
‘He could hardly be blamed for that,’ said Grace, recoiling a little from such vehemence.
‘His sons are as bad. Rakes, both of ’em. The whole family is damned.’
It was not what Grace wanted to hear.
‘Oh, surely not,’ she murmured, preparing to take her leave.
The old woman clutched her arm, fingers digging in like claws. ‘And the oldest boy, the wife-murderer, well, he’s turned out worst of all. He walks with the devil.’
Grace made her excuses at that point and hurried back to the vicarage, but however much she told herself Mrs Owlet was embittered because the Hall had closed and she had lost her position, the words haunted her.
* * *
The visit to Hindlesham could be delayed no longer. Grace changed into her riding habit and went to the stableyard, where she found Wolfgang leading out Bonnie.
He walks with the devil.
‘You have been busy, so I saddled the mare for you,’ he said. ‘I thought you would go in the gig, but your father told me you would prefer to ride.’
‘He sees no harm in my riding alone here, where I am so well known. Besides, Truscott needed the gig to go to Newmarket and book our places on the mail.’
She allowed him to keep the mare steady while she used the mounting block and he held Bonnie while Grace arranged her skirts.
‘Thank you.’
She gathered up the reins, but he did not release the mare.
‘No,’ he said quietly. ‘Thankyou, Miss Duncombe. I appreciate what you are doing for me.’
‘For my father,’ she corrected him. She glanced around to make sure they were alone. ‘He believes you are innocent.’
‘And you do not?’
His look sent the butterflies fluttering inside again. She knew where this man was concerned her heart was ruling her head. The only defence she could summon up was anger.
