“I don’t think he drowned,” Darcy said. “There didn’t appear to be water in his lungs.”

“What do you mean, sir?”

“I think somebody killed him and then dumped him into the lake.”

“Murder, you mean?”

“That would be my guess.”

“Dear me.” Constable Herries pushed back his helmet and scratched his head. “Someone should be told about this.”

“Don’t worry, Constable. We’ll telephone from Castle Rannoch and report it,” I said.

“If you’re sure, my lady.”

“I am.” I turned back to Darcy. His dark curls were plastered to his face and he was still dripping. “And I should probably take Mr. O’Mara home and let him change into dry clothes, if you don’t mind.”

“Of course, my lady. You do what you think is best.”

I turned to Darcy. “You’d better come up to the house and get out of those wet clothes. We can supply blankets and have someone dry your clothes for you,” I said.

“Thank you for the offer,” he said. “I think that’s the first time you’ve actually invited me to take off my clothes, but I’m afraid I should go straight back to where I’m staying and then get to work if you want me to notify people about your suspicions.”

“Thank you,” I said. “I’m very grateful.”

“Just doing my job, ma’am.” He touched his head in mock salute.

“Jump in the car, I’ll run you home.”

“I’d make the seats wet.”

“We’ll risk it,” I said. “How else were you going to get there?”

“Well, I didn’t fancy rowing in this wind,” he admitted and walked toward the car, leaving a trail of drips behind him.

Granddad opened the door and Darcy climbed into the backseat. Then Granddad took the passenger seat beside me.

“You bring your chauffeur and then you drive?” Darcy sounded amused.

“This isn’t my chauffeur, it’s my grandfather.” I laughed.

“I’m sorry, I forgot you two hadn’t met before.”

“Holy Mother of God. You’re full of surprises, aren’t you?” He held out his hand. “How do you do, sir. Darcy O’Mara. A pleasure to meet you.”

“Likewise, I’m sure. I take it this is your young man,” Granddad said.

“Granddad—” I began, my cheeks turning red, but Darcy interrupted. “You take it correctly,” he said.

Chapter 32

Chapter 32

Castle Rannoch
August 21 and 22, 1932

I don’t even remember driving home. I only came down off my cloud when I walked into Castle Rannoch to be met by an irate Fig.

“Where on earth have you been?” she demanded. “We’ve not seen hide nor hair of you for ages. You simply don’t turn up for meals and I’m left to entertain and make conversation on my own.”

“I’m sorry,” I said. “I’ve been at Balmoral again. Princess Elizabeth wanted me to go riding with her.”