“You can’t believe I did it.”

“I said it is a possibility. Just as you believe it is possible that I did it. Now, don’t you want to know why I pointed a finger at Walter? It is not only because he is pompous and clearly thinks himself deserving of everything, or that he resents that Nicholas has become the duke when he sees himself as far more qualified.” She leaned in a bit. “It is because of his wife.”

“Felicity?”

“She idolizes him. He loves her misplaced awe more than he probably loves her. If he has allowed her to have expectations regarding a fortune, and he learned he will have to disappoint her . . . Also, he is the kind of man who can probably rationalize anything. If he did it, he no doubt has a long explanation that eventually blames his uncle for his own death.”

It did sound like Walter. He always found someone else to blame. He always had, even when they were all boys.

She had surmised all of this from an hour’s eavesdropping. Anyone else would have accepted Walter’s boring blandness and predictable correctness at face value.

“And Dolores?”

“Ah, the angry sister. Too angry. It isn’t only about the will. She is bitter about something regarding her brother.”

He had always assumed that Dolores merely possessed an unpleasant disposition. He had never considered there might be a reason for it, let alone one having to do with Uncle Frederick.

She smiled slyly. “I told you I had learned plenty already. Her sister knows. If you ever want to find out, browbeat Agnes. There was the smallest allusion to it while they spoke today, and I built the fire. It is something long in the past.”

“I will not browbeat her, but I may cajole her to confide in me.”

She laughed quietly, making a pretty melody in the quiet of the chamber. “She does not look to be a woman easily cajoled. Or charmed.”

“You underestimate my powers at both.”

She leveled her gaze on him. “Not at all.” She watched him intently, as if she tried to read his soul. He refused to look away, and gave as good as he got. That increased the cozy intimacy hanging between them in the barely lit chamber.

“When did he tell you about the will? Before or after he had changed it?” she asked.

“It was about a month before he died. I can’t be sure, but his words to me implied it was soon to happen.”

“Did he inform each of them?”

“No.”

“Only you?”

“Only me.” It is not because of that business with the army. I want you to know that. I’m removing all of you from the major legacies. There will be something left to share, but not a fortune for each of you.