A Death, A Duke, And Miss Mifford - Claudia Stone Page 0,28

me to donate to the church from my wages," Canet shrugged, though his brown eyes would not meet Henry's, "I did not know Mr Parsims, but I have heard enough to learn that he was a man who felt the world was in his debt."

"Where were you last night?" Henry questioned, unwilling to allow Canet think he was off the hook.

"Here," Henry was offered a Gallic shrug, "You may ask any of the staff; they will tell you that I worked until eight o'clock and then retired to my rooms. Edward, the footman, brought me up coal at about ten, as I was running low."

"I shall confirm that with Edward," Henry replied, still suspicious of the French man, "Though that would only confirm your whereabouts at ten o'clock and Mr Parsims was murdered after eleven. Plenty of time to sneak out, if one wished to."

"I did not wish to," Canet's eyes were cool, "Now, if you will excuse me, I have a souffl茅 to which I must attend."

There was nothing in the world that Henry loved more than a good souffl茅. Had he less pride, he might have tried to sneak back into the dining room to order a bowl, but he resisted the temptation. Henry gave the chef a stiff nod, to let him know that he was dismissed and left the kitchen, stopping only to confirm with the footman that he had brought coal to Canet's rooms the night before.

"That I did, Your Grace," Edward confirmed, though his youthful face was awash with uncertainty.

"Is there anything else?" Henry prompted

"Well," the footman tugged on his starched collar, as though it was too tight, "I would not like to get anyone in trouble..."

"An innocent lady's reputation is at stake," Henry pressed, hoping that gallantry might inspire the young man to share his secrets, "If you think you might know something--no matter how small--it is of the utmost importance that you tell me."

"Mr Parsims was here yesterday," Edward whispered in a rush, casting a fearful glance over his shoulder to make sure no one else was listening, "He met Monsieur Canet in the gardens, and they had a terrible row; I don't know what it was about, because I could not hear them. But I knew they were having an argument as monsieur's face went all red, the way it always does when he's angry."

Interesting. Henry tried to keep his face impassive so that the footman would not know just how important the information he had shared was. Canet had lied; he had said that he had never spoken with Mr Parsims and now here was a fellow who was saying that he had seen him do just that.

"Thank you," Henry said stiffly, "That is most helpful. I pray you will not tell anyone what you have just told me?"

"I shan't, Your Grace," the footman vowed, and Henry slipped him a farthing for his troubles.

Henry left The King's Head, his mind clouded in thought. He would not confront the Frenchman with what he had learned just yet, he decided. He needed more proof; a substantial motive, or a witness who had seen Monsieur Canet about the village after eleven, before he could say for definite that he had murdered Parsims--though Henry was already convinced of the Frenchman's guilt.

In fact, he was so thoroughly certain that Canet was the perpetrator, that he would have gone straight home without seeking out the last remaining suspect, had Mr Fairweather not crossed his path by chance.

Outside The Ring'O'Bells stood two men, both farmers judging by their attire, engaged in a heated debate. Henry, who was not immune to human curiosity, slowed down as he passed--along with several others, who were less subtle than he in their gawking--to try to glean what the argument was about.

"Don't tell me you've no money to pay me, Fairweather," the older of the two men roared, "For I know what you're up to-don't think I haven't seen you skulking about late at night. Now, you will repay me for the loss of my mare, or I will march myself up to the manor and--"

"Alright," Mr Fairweather interrupted, his face pale, "I shall have it for you by next week. You have my word."

The elder gentleman had evidently been expecting more of a fight from Mr Fairweather, for he seemed momentarily thrown by the acceptance of his demand.

"You have until Monday," he replied, after a pause, "And I'll only take your word once, do you hear?"

"I hear you," Fairweather replied, though