The Sudbury School Murders

"I believe Megan will try to make you happy," I suggested.

He looked up at me, a rueful smile on his lips. "Then you do not know her."

I was puzzled. "She did not seem a shrew to me."

"No. She is quiet and obedient, as you say."

Still his eyes held a glint of something I did not understand. I conceded that I knew little of Megan save my brief conversation with her. But perhaps I'd grown jaded and bit cynical about love. A quiet, plain woman determined to do her duty seemed a restful choice over storms of emotion.

Sebastian looked at me across twenty years, and did not agree.

I tried another tactic. "If you take the blame for the murder, Sebastian, then the true killer will go free. He could be at the school, right now, or in the village of Sudbury. Do you think Miss Rutledge will be safe? What if he decides she knows you did not kill Middleton and wishes to keep her from speaking? Or what happens if he decides your family is a danger?"

Sebastian looked at me in alarm. "You must look after Miss Rutledge. You must tell my family to get away."

"I cannot be everywhere. And I cannot live at Sudbury the rest of my life."

He looked away, eyes troubled. "The magistrate will not believe me, or my uncle, or Megan."

"Leave that to me," I said. "Now, tell me the truth this time, when you arrived at Lower Sudbury Lock, did you see any person, or any activity out of the ordinary?"

He shook his head. "I wished only to reach the stables before the others stirred. I never noticed."

"A pity, but never mind." I rose, leaned on my walking stick in the low-ceilinged room. "If you truly love Miss Rutledge, you will let her go. Let her marry a gentleman who will take her to live in a dull house and talk of dull things. She will be cared for, in that way."

He looked at me, eyes full. "You are wrong. Her father will marry her off to a man just like him, one who will make her miserable."

Sadly, I suspected he was right. If Rutledge allowed Belinda to marry at all, he'd likely find someone as bullying and tyrannical as he was.

I sighed, put on my hat, told Sebastian good morning, and let myself out of his cell.

Upon my return to Sudbury School, I found breakfast just ending and tutors and pupils scurrying to lessons. Grenville emerged from the dining hall among the crowd and hailed me.

"I breakfasted with Rutledge in the dining hall," he said. "Fletcher was there." He nodded toward the lean man who stalked down the corridor to his lecture hall. "He spoke to no one. Mr. Sutcliff still seems subdued. In my opinion, Sutcliff needed the thrashing."

"I have no doubt he did. But I wonder what provoked it."

"I could not get close enough to Fletcher to ask." Grenville looked me up and down, taking in my muddy boots and breeches. "What did you get up to this morning? Rutledge demanded I tell him your whereabouts, and I was forced to answer that I did not know. I must say, it has been a long while since a headmaster called me on the carpet."

"I found the Roma," I said evasively. "Sebastian stayed with them the night of the murder. I would tell you more, but Rutledge is glaring." I tipped my hat. "I will see you at dinner."

Grenville looked annoyed, but he could say no more. He would simply have to wait until I could tell him the tale.

In Rutledge's study, I removed my hat and gloves, seated myself, and gave myself to my duties. Rutledge entered soon after I did, gave me a long, loud-breathed stare. He strode to his desk and sat down.

"You missed breakfast," he observed.

"I was riding."

He said nothing. He opened ledgers, shuffled papers. Presently, he said, "I plan to sack Fletcher."

I stopped writing, raised my brows. "Does he deserve that?"

"Of course he does. Getting his books burned in the quad, losing his temper with a pupil who can make a large difference to this school."

I wondered suddenly if Sutcliff had demanded that Fletcher be sacked.

Rutledge glared at his ledger. "Damn difficult to find another Classics instructor. Fletcher at least knows his subject."

"Then why let him go?"

He did not answer. "I would ask Grenville for a recommendation," he said in a surely tone. "But he's already landed me with a damn fool secretary."

"I had thought you satisfied with my work."

"Oh, I have no quarrel with your work, Lacey. But your tongue is sharp, and you have difficulty with respect. Did your regimental colonel never beat any into you?"

I was torn between anger and amusement. "My regimental colonel did not. And I do have respect, sir, for a man's deeds and his comportment. I cannot respect a man simply because he was born into the correct family or has a large fortune."

"Huh. You are egalitarian, like the damned Frenchies. You do not respect me."

"Not true. You have a difficult job, and you carry it out with efficiency. Even if you are a bit ruthless."

His grizzled brows rose. "High praise from my impudent secretary."

"I beg your pardon if I am impudent. At times, in the army, if a man did not speak his mind, it could be life or death for his men. I came into the habit."

"Humph. Grenville ought to have warned me."

"Yes, he ought." I finished the letter I was copying, laid down my pen, sanded the sheet. "I would like to journey to London tomorrow."

Rutledge stared. "Eh? What for?"

I had known he'd balk, so I was prepared. "When I arrived, we agreed that I should have a holiday once a fortnight. Tomorrow is a fortnight since my arrival."

He gave me a sour look. "I wonder why I do not sack you."

I met his gaze with a tranquil one of my own. "Grenville would not be pleased."

"No, he would not. Grenville's approval is much sought after these days, is it not? I must be able to say that Sudbury School has it. You have a powerful friend in him, you know, Lacey."

"I know." I felt somewhat ashamed of myself for deliberately baiting Rutledge, but I was in a foul mood, and tired of trying to please people. I was angry at Sebastian for lying, and angry that I would have to hurt Belinda Rutledge in order to set him free. Her life was not tranquil, and I hated to destroy her one bit of happiness, as tenuous as it was.

"Very well, take your holiday," Rutledge grumbled. He looked back at his ledger and muttered, "Dear God, but I am besieged by fools."

I knew precisely how he felt.

Chapter Twelve

I left for London the next morning with Bartholomew. After a long discussion with Grenville that escalated into near argument he agreed to stay and keep an eye on things in Sudbury. I knew he was worried about me visiting James Denis alone. James Denis and I always stood on precarious ground, and Grenville feared that I'd overstep my bounds and Denis would retaliate. I promised I'd be cautious, and Grenville at last conceded.

I had reported to him about what I had learned from Sebastian and his family. His reaction was similar to mine-surprise and annoyance. He agreed to watch over Belinda Rutledge and also to continue investigating in my absence.

I sent a message to Marianne explaining that I was traveling to London and that Grenville was remaining. I half-hoped she would seek out Grenville while I was gone and confess her troubles to him. Neither of us could predict what Grenville would do, but in all fairness, I ought to give him a chance. So should Marianne.

I had planned to go post, but Grenville insisted I take his traveling coach, and I did not argue with him too heatedly. So, at five o'clock in the morning, Bartholomew and I departed Sudbury and rode in luxury to London.

Grenville, as always, had stocked the coach well. A compartment held port and crystal glasses, and Bartholomew had procured a bit of roast from the Sudbury School kitchens in case we grew hungry on the road.