“Are you all right?” Sophia asked, her heart pounding.
Daphne gasped for air, a hand pressed to her bodice. “I think I tripped,” she said needlessly, clambering to her feet and straightening her gown.
Sophia did the same, tugging the bows at her elbows into place. “I have not known you to be clumsy before.”
Daphne’s hand paused halfway across her skirt. “It wasn’t me. I tripped over something.” She turned to look up the stairs.
Just above her, the culprit lay on its side, its head hung over the tread. “There. See, it wasn’t my fault. I tripped over a toy horse.”
Sophia frowned and then leaned closer, slowly reaching to pick up the toy. “Seems a strange place for this. You could have had a bad fall. Broken a limb or cracked your head.”
“True, absolutely true.” Daphne stared at the thing, taking it from Sophia and slowly turning it over, as if mesmerized by it. “It should be in the nursery … Someone could have been seriously hurt if they tripped and didn’t have a cousin to catch them.” Daphne’s complexion became ruddy and her breathing shallow.
“Nothing worthy of concern,” Sophia said quickly. “I’ll mention it to your housekeeper, Mrs. Curtis.”
“Come to think about it, the nursery was cleared out years ago. This must have come from the attic. Why is it on the stairs?” Daphne’s tone was suddenly high and squeaky. “Someone put this toy here deliberately. Only the family uses these stairs. Someone tried to cause an accident!”
Sophia stepped to her cousin’s side, taking her arm, and propelled her toward the door. “Shh,” she murmured. “There is an explanation—a nonlethal explanation. We just need to ferret it out.”
Daphne pulled Sophia to a stop. “Someone just tried to kill me.”
Sophia thought her cousin was being a tad dramatic, but an investigator should not jump to conclusions. “I’m sure there are other possibilities.”
Daphne hesitated, then nodded. “Of course, there are…” She paused, waiting for Sophia to supply all those other possibilities.
“Um…” Sophia hesitated. “The footmen were transporting donations to the church, and the horse fell out of the box. Or perhaps Aunt Hazel offered it to one of the staff’s children … Um … or…”
Daphne shifted, dropping the toy horse on the table by the door. “Or someone tried to hurt me.”
Sophia noticed the substitution of the word “kill.” Daphne clearly saw that stating she had been subject to a murder attempt was a bit excessive. But why would someone wish Daphne permanent harm? Sophia was fairly certain that there would be a logical explanation for the toy being on the stairs; she just hadn’t thought of it yet.
“Let’s not think on it for a few minutes.” She hoped the respite would allow Daphne the time to get her thoughts together.
Sophia took a deep breath of fresh air as soon as they stepped through the door, and watched Daphne do the same. They both needed to find calm in order to think clearly.
“Let’s head into town and fetch the pendant for your mother.”
Distraction was a good way to comfort a witness; Sophia had read the comment in Investigating Murder and Mayhem.
It seemed as good a plan as any.
* * *
“Odd. All very odd,” Daphne said as the front door closed behind them. She hooked her arm through Sophia’s and they started down the drive, matching their paces. All was calm.
And yet, Daphne did not avail herself of the calm. “This past year has been dreadful,” she said before they had taken more than ten steps. “I’m so glad you’re here. I have been living with an all-consuming fear the entire time with no one to talk to.” Daphne’s tone was slightly theatrical. “The murderer is still here. Here, in West Ravenwood. Biding their time, preparing to strike again.” She paused and turned to Sophia, eyes wide with panic.
Had Sophia been of a more susceptible nature, the pronouncement would have caused her great concern. She patted Daphne’s hand to offer comfort. “Tell me why you think so,” she said, trying to adopt a mature, worldly tone.
Sophia gave her cousin’s arm a squeeze and they continued to walk, nodding to the gardener as they passed him trimming the hedges.
“Father said as much to Constable Marley. He insisted that the constable redouble his effort to catch the killer, said time was running out.”
Sophia nodded, agreeing internally that time was indeed of the essence. Memories were fading and the scene of the crime would have altered. Clues would be few and far between, disappearing under the weight of time. Still, to say as much to Daphne would be unkind—her cousin was already in such a state.
“That is rather ambiguous, Daphne. Uncle Edward might have meant that time was running out for the discovery of Andrew’s murderer, not that there would be another victim.”
Daphne furrowed her brow and twisted her mouth. “Yes, I suppose that is true … but we still have cause for concern.” She took a deep breath and swallowed visibly. “Constable Marley came to see Father again yesterday, before you arrived. I didn’t hear what was said as the interview took place behind closed doors in Father’s study … But I could tell they were shouting at each other.”
“Shouting? Uncle Edward?”
“Yes, exactly. Father seldom shouts. I snuck up to the study door for a listen, but Mother caught me and I had to return to the library. And then when the constable was leaving, he yelled back at my father from the entrance hall. Heard him plain as day.”
Sophia waited for Daphne to continue, but apparently she thought her explanation complete. “What did he shout?” she asked, guiding her cousin through the gate and onto the main road.
Daphne blinked and looked around as if suddenly aware of her surroundings. She increased her pace, pulling Sophia into a quickstep. “He said, ‘If you keep it up, you will be arrested.’”
Sophia startled. “Arrested? That is a rather odd threat. Uncle would never break the law; Constable Marley would have no cause to arrest him. A man—particularly a gentleman—cannot be brought before a judge without a valid reason.”
“How do you know that?” Daphne asked, tucking a strand of hair under her bonnet ribbon.
“I read it somewhere,” Sophia replied vaguely. She could have been more exact—Chapter Seventeen, page 231 of Investigating Murder and Mayhem—but as much as Daphne knew of Sophia’s interest in detecting, she didn’t really understand.
“So I need not worry that Father will be taken away,” Daphne said, brightening. “Excellent.” She sighed with relief. “We have more than enough to worry about.”
Sophia clamped her mouth shut. Innocent men had been accused before. She would not know if the threat to Uncle Edward was real until she met the constable herself. Most such appointed men were reasonable and clear thinking, but there were others who enjoyed their power a bit too well and liked to throw their weight around.
Sophia let her cousin’s fears settle down for some minutes before asking, “What other worries?”
Daphne stopped walking, pulling Sophia to a standstill with her. “I told you, Sophia. Father’s temper is on edge over the least little thing. Why yesterday, I rode Misty, my thoroughbred mare, through the upper field, and Father berated me in front of William. Really, I only knocked down a row of barley … maybe two. But he scolded me for ten whole minutes! And when I returned from my afternoon stroll about the garden with Miss MacIntyre—my governess—my skirt hem was rather muddy, which is not to be wondered at as it had rained the day before. Still, he blamed Miss MacIntyre and sent her packing! Can you imagine? Seeing my governess off because I got my skirts a little dirty!”