“What?” I said, still trying to act casual. It might have been more believable if I’d been able to make eye contact.
“Just be careful, dear. Daniel may really like you. That kiss he planted on you yesterday would certainly indicate that he does.” I felt my cheeks burn hot. I didn’t realize she had seen that. “But we don’t know a lot about him,” she continued. “And he does have a motive for killing Gerald.” She tapped her list. “Even if he’s not romantically involved with Lauren, he may have tried to help her out of a horrible marriage.”
I was quiet. A small part of my brain understood what she was saying, but the larger part was hurt. It was as if Aunt Winnie and Peter still saw me as an unattractive and gauche ten-year-old.
“Elizabeth?” said Aunt Winnie gently.
“I just don’t understand why everyone’s first assumption is that Daniel is using me.”
“I never said it was my first assumption, Elizabeth,” Aunt Winnie said sternly. “But a man was murdered in this house not two nights ago by someone who is still on the loose. That means everyone is a suspect and should be treated as such. Daniel may very well like you. But he might also be using you. I know that’s hard to hear, but I’d be horribly remiss if I didn’t make sure that you understood that. Do you understand?”
“I do.” Even as I said it, I knew it was only partly true. On some childish level I was angry and wanted to prove her—and Peter—wrong.
Aunt Winnie gave me a searching look before changing the subject. “Very well, then,” she said. “Go out with Daniel tonight—see if you can find anything out. And tomorrow we’ll go to Linnet’s and Jackie’s. I’ve no doubt Jackie will have much to tell us,” she added wearily.
I gave a small laugh, trying to restore the early friendly atmosphere. “Yes,” I said, “but just how much of it is truth and how much is rank speculation is yet to be seen.” I stood up to leave. “Are you sure you don’t need me for anything else tonight?”
“No,” said Aunt Winnie. “If I want anything, Peter can help me. Go and have a good time.”
I kissed her good night and turned to leave.
“Elizabeth?” she said.
I turned.
“Be careful.”
I nodded and shut the door behind me.
The restaurant that Daniel took me to had originally been a private residence but had been renovated to accommodate five separately themed dining areas on the main level. Our table was in the garden room, which was a study in brightly colored floral prints and hand-painted French antiques.
We quickly got through the awkward first-date chatter—childhood memories, school experiences, and job histories—and fell into an easy rapport. Leaning over to pour me a glass of wine, Daniel said, “So tell me again how you used to draw pictures of naked men.”
“It wasn’t like that.” I laughed. “It was for art class. You know, sketching the human form and all that.”
“The buck-naked human form, you mean. Bit pervy, if you ask me. But don’t get me wrong, I like pervy.”
“Didn’t you ever take art class in school?” I said in an attempt to regain control of the conversation.
“Sure. We covered all the basics—crayon, finger paints. I just don’t recall the naked people. To be honest, I feel a bit cheated.”
“I’m sure you’ll survive,” I said, sipping my wine.
“I suppose,” he said. “So I take it that you decided to nix a career as an artist?”
“Yes. Unfortunately, my sketches looked as if they’d been done by someone more comfortable with finger painting. And how about you? How did you land in investment banking?”
“I like money,” he said frankly. “I never seemed to have a knack for my own, mind you, but I knew a lot of people who had loads of it. Those contacts made me a perfect fit for the firm. That’s actually how I met Lauren. She was a client.”
“Really?” I said, trying not to sound too interested. “I didn’t know Lauren had lived in England.”
“Well, it was a long time ago. She came over to do some modeling. It never really took off, but she did. She became quite popular with a certain set. That’s how she met her first husband. He was a mate of mine.”
“What happened?”
“Well, James was a bit of a bounder. He made a beeline for Lauren the first moment he saw her. They had a great time together for a while, but then Lauren found out she was pregnant. She was happy about it. I think she had the naïve idea that James would settle down into domestic bliss with her and the baby, but that just wasn’t in James’s nature. He married her, of course, but once the baby was born he quietly divorced her.”
“That’s terrible,” I said, aghast.
“Yes. His family made sure she received a decent settlement, and then they basically washed their hands of her and Jamie.”
“Did they know that Jamie had … ?” I faltered.
“Problems?” Daniel finished for me. “No. Jamie’s fine. His only real problem is that he’s a delinquent.”
“But you said …”
“I know,” said Daniel with a small smile. “That he has ‘special needs.’ I only said that to throw Jackie off the scent. Lauren has a hard enough time without word getting out about Jamie. He’s not a bad kid, actually, most of the time. What he really needs is a swift kick in the ass. Or a dad.”
“Doesn’t his father have any contact with him?”
“No. James died in a car accident a few years back. But he wasn’t much of a father even before that.”
“What about James’s parents?”
“Clive and Anne?” He scoffed. “They’ve never even seen Jamie. I think they convinced themselves that Jamie wasn’t James’s son to begin with.”
“How sad,” I said. “Poor Lauren.”
“Yes,” agreed Daniel. “It hasn’t been easy for her. I made sure that she invested her money wisely, but it was still a struggle for her.”
“And then Gerald came along.”
Daniel nodded. “And then Gerald came along,” he repeated. “I think she did care for him at first. Gerald could be charming when it suited him, and Lauren’s instincts with men aren’t exactly what you’d call razor sharp. By the time she realized what a bastard he really was, it was too late. But she was determined to stick it out for Jamie’s sake. She’d do anything for that boy—she completely dotes on him. With Gerald’s money, she was able to get Jamie into one of those treatment centers for wayward boys. And she’s convinced that he’s making progress.”
“I gather Gerald would never have considered moving so she could be closer to Jamie.”
“Are you kidding?” Daniel scoffed. “He’d never have left here. He was too intent on buying up all the land he could—like your aunt’s inn. He was incandescent with rage at losing that place.”
“So I gather,” I said. “And now he’s dead.”
“And now he’s dead.” Daniel nodded. In a solemn voice he recited from Sir Walter Scott, “ ‘The wretch, concentred all in self, living, shall forfeit fair renown. And doubly dying, shall go down to the vile dust from whence he sprung, unwept, unhonour’d and unsung.’ ” After a brief pause, he added, “More wine?”
By the time we pulled into the inn’s driveway, I was feeling rather floaty. It might have been the wine, or it might have been the way Daniel kept looking at me. I really didn’t care what the reason was—I just didn’t want it to end. Turning off the ignition, Daniel turned in his seat to face me.
“Thank you again for asking me to dinner, Daniel.”
“No, thank you.” He leaned in close to me. Cupping my face in his hand, he stroked my cheek lightly with his thumb. My heart jerked into a pounding rhythm. “You’ve done me quite a service. This is something I could get used to,” he said softly, before kissing me.
I returned his kiss, but part of me blanched at his words. How had I been a service? Peter’s and Aunt Winnie’s intimations reverberated in my head. Was that the reason behind tonight—to fortify his “just friends” story with Lauren? Putting my hand on his chest, I lightly pushed him away.
“Elizabeth? What’s wrong?”
“I don’t know. Something you just said. What do you mean, I did you a service tonight?”