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Chapters (40)
  1. Cover
  2. BERKLEY PRIME CRIME TITLES BY RHYS BOWEN
  3. Dedication
  4. Chapter 1
  5. Chapter 2
  6. Chapter 3
  7. Chapter 4
  8. Chapter 5
  9. Chapter 6
  10. Chapter 7
  11. Chapter 8
  12. Chapter 9
  13. Chapter 10
  14. Chapter 11
  15. Chapter 12
  16. Chapter 13
  17. Chapter 14
  18. Chapter 15
  19. Chapter 16
  20. Chapter 17
  21. Chapter 18
  22. Chapter 19
  23. Chapter 20
  24. Chapter 21
  25. Chapter 22
  26. Chapter 23
  27. Chapter 24
  28. Chapter 25
  29. Chapter 26
  30. Chapter 27
  31. Chapter 28
  32. Chapter 29
  33. Chapter 30
  34. Chapter 31
  35. Chapter 32
  36. Chapter 33
  37. Chapter 34
  38. Chapter 35
  39. Chapter 36
  40. Historical Note

She was standing there in that hideous moth-eaten fur coat she had that made her look like a half-drowned hedgehog. Her hands were to her face and she was shaking with sobs. I got out of bed. “Queenie, I’m sorry. I had no idea,” I said, helping her to sit down on the bed. “What on earth are you doing here?”

“My family told me to come,” she said. “They scolded me for leaving you in the lurch. They said my place was with you, especially when you needed someone to take care of you at a time like this. So they had a whip round and came up with my ticket to Ireland.” She was still sobbing, her large body heaving as she spoke so she wasn’t easy to understand.

“I didn’t quite know how to find you. All I knew was that it was Lord Kilhenny you’d gone to. So I hitched a lift to the village and I went to the castle but there was a policeman at the gate and he said nobody was living there and I wasn’t allowed in. Then I spotted you, miss. You was walking through the grounds with another lady. I called out and waved to you but you didn’t hear.”

“That’s right,” I said. “I sensed that someone was looking at me, but I couldn’t see anyone.”

“And by the time I’d walked around the wall to try and find you, you’d gone. So I went back into the village and saw you drive past. I chased after you but you didn’t see me.”

“I did notice someone running after the motorcar,” I said, “but I thought it was another of those newspaper reporters who are camping out in the village.”

“I know, miss,” she said. “There was a lady reporter who spoke to me and took me into the pub and bought me a couple of pints of Guinness. Really nice she was, and quite delighted to find out who you were.”

Oh crikey. Now the beans really were spilled.

“But she didn’t know where you were staying, so I wasn’t sure what to do next, when who should come into the pub but Mr. Darcy himself. He nearly fell over in surprise when he saw me sitting there. Then he was kind enough to drive me out to you, and the lady what owns this place said I should go up and see if you were already asleep and if there was anything I could do for you. So I crept in, real quiet like, to see if you was still awake.”