So he was left to his own judgment. If he did not want her, he would trust it more. He would not suspect he found excuses for her, or put too much faith in his intuition and instincts—his inner sense, as she called it—instead of hard facts. Any investigator became worthless when feelings trumped information.

Did you kill him? He all but heard his uncle’s voice that day seven years ago, up here behind this parapet, while they looked down on the land and discussed some new investment the duke had made. Right in the middle of a small pause, as if it were part of the conversation, the question had come. He had been waiting for it. If anyone had the right to ask, it was Uncle Frederick.

No, not exactly. But also, yes. There had been no choice but to explain it then. He found some relief in doing so. Perhaps his uncle had known he would.

“It took me a long time to find the door to the staircase. It is well hidden.” The voice sounded right by his shoulder, pulling him out of the reverie. He had not even heard Minerva arrive. Behind her, the door to the stairs stood open now. “Where did it happen?”

He propped an elbow on the parapet and looked at her. She still wore her gray ensemble. It did not flatter her, but it did not hurt her either. If anything its lack of color and decoration allowed her own presence to dominate. Instead of noticing some bright hue or embroidery, the only thing to admire was the woman herself.

He allowed himself a moment to do so, watching her dark eyes light with interest while she gazed out over the land below and beyond, distracted now from the mission that had brought her up here.

“What makes you think I invited you up to see where it happened?”

She tore her attention away from the vista. “There could be no other reason, and you did say you would get me in.”

“There could most definitely be another reason, and you know it.”

Her gaze went back to the vista. Her cheeks took on some color.

“Come with me,” he said. “I will show you.”

He led her along the parapet to a place above the back of the building. “You can walk all the way around,” he explained. “As you can see the walkway is narrow, but not precarious. It was built to be walked upon by members of the household. Since my uncle came up here frequently, he ensured it was kept in order.”

“There are even these benches here, for viewing. That must be pleasant on a summer night.”

“At parties, young gentlemen often invite young ladies up here for that purpose.” And others.

“It appears secure and well maintained. I do not feel in danger of tripping over loose stones. Was the weather wet that night? Was there snow or ice?”