have happened. After all, how many times had Philip or Gage or any of our other mutual friends been forced to listen to the same stories we and Alana recounted over and over again?
“So he might have known about it?” Gage clarified.
“Yes, but I can’t envision him ever deigning to actually come down here.” Lord John scowled, brushing a hand through his blond hair and then flicking at his shoulder as if dust or something had fallen on him from the ceiling.
I glanced above me before sweeping a hand over my own tightly restrained tresses.
Lord Edward nodded. “He’s like Traquair, but worse. Traquair used to complain how childish it was, but he joined in all the same. As long as we let him be King Arthur or Henry V or whoever was the sovereign of whatever quest we were undertaking that day,” he added dryly.
“What of Lord Marsdale?” I asked quietly, refusing to flinch from the facts. “Or any of your other boyhood friends? Did they know about the tunnel?”
Lord Edward and Lord John shared a speaking glance, but Lord Henry met my gaze squarely, already realizing why I’d asked. “Marsdale knew. As did a handful of our other friends. And who knows who they told.”
Obviously, he wanted to make it clear that there were any number of people who knew about the tunnel. The trouble with this was, not many of that untold number were present. Which meant Marsdale and the Kerr brothers had to remain at the top of our list.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Take us the rest of the way,” Gage told Lord Edward. “Show us the entrance from the abbey.”
He dipped his head in acknowledgment and then turned to guide us deeper into the tunnel. As eager as I was to see exactly where this shaft led, I had to force myself to inhale a deep breath of the chill, musty air in order to make my feet move. Sensing my agitation, I felt the baby kick once in protest before settling as the motion of my body lulled him or her. It was a heady reminder of why I was so anxious to escape the confines of this space.
As the tunnel began to slope upward, I fell into step with Gage, threading my arm through his. I could tell from his expression that he was lost in thought, but his arm still clamped mine in support, pulling me close to his side.
“The valet,” I murmured to him. “We should check the other recesses.”
His gaze dipped toward mine, and I watched as comprehension dawned.
“You mean Mr. Warren, Helmswick’s valet?” Lord Edward asked over his shoulder, evidently having heard me.
“Yes,” Gage replied, for there was no point in denying it. “If Lord Helmswick is our victim, if he is not in Paris, then where is his valet? Surely, after four weeks he would have notified someone that his lordship was missing. Which means, he might very well be dead himself.”
“That, or he’s the murderer,” my brother helpfully provided, raising his voice to be heard. “Probably long since fled to America.” He sounded almost cheerful at this possibility. Maybe because he thought that meant we were now safe.
“I suppose that could explain where his jewelry and possessions have gone,” I speculated. And given what Anderley had told us about Helmswick as an employer, that might give Warren a motive. “But why would he have killed him in the tunnel? And how did he know about this place?”
“Perhaps one of the maids told him.” Lord Edward shrugged. “I know they’re ardent believers in Friar Thatch.”
Recalling the monk Lord Edward had described last night and the hooded figure one of the maids had described to Bree, I felt my lips twist sardonically. “And did you help them to that belief?”
“Why, whatever do you mean?” His voice, as well as the gleam in his eyes when he glanced back at me, was mocking.
Whoever those robed figures were, Lord Edward knew something about it. I would have wagered my specially balanced paintbrushes on it.
“But as to Warren’s reasons for killing him here,” he continued, “I would suggest concealment. After all, he would need time to escape. And the longer it took for anyone to find the body, the better.”
I gnawed my lip in consideration. I supposed it was possible. Though such a scenario would mean the valet had to have killed Helmswick before they were to depart for France. Which meant he had not departed here on December seventh, it had only appeared like he