Page 39 of A Duchess of Mystery (The Mismatched Lovers #3)

M r. Evers turned out to be quite the opposite of his employer.

In his very early twenties, but with the round, guileless face of a boy, he nevertheless wore thick-lensed reading glasses on the end of his long, aquiline nose and was in possession of an acute brain as well as a natty dress-style.

He was well-spoken and clearly well-educated, possibly at the grammar school Philip Sanders had mentioned, and Richard found himself wondering if he was perhaps the son of a local clergyman.

He was relieved to have his sketch returned. “I like to keep all of the colonel’s cases complete,” he said, as Richard laid it on the desk. “But he does have a tendency to take papers out from time to time and then forget he’s had them. I have to keep quite an eye on him.”

Richard nodded. “I’m not here only to deliver you your sketch. I was rather hoping you might be able to tell me something of what happened the day of my cousin’s death. The Colonel tells me you would know more than he does.”

Mr. Evers frowned. “How very odd. You’re the second person who’s come to me today wanting to know just that.

I hope you’re not about to try to bribe me, as the first fellow did.

I can assure you that I am not open to such a thing.

I was quite offended when he drew out his wallet and sent him on his way with a flea in his ear. ”

That was good news. Perhaps Silas Barker had not managed to glean anything much before he’d been sent packing. Richard’s spirits rose. And it did give him cause to think that if it came to it, Mr. Evers could give evidence that Barker was not above offering bribes.

He smiled. “I’m a duke. I don’t need to bribe people.” He might as well use his title for something. “I just want to ascertain the truth, as I’m sure you do. Did. Perhaps you could tell me about your discoveries that morning.”

Mr. Evers nodded. “Of course, Your Grace, but I didn’t find a lot in the way of discoveries, I’m afraid.

” He frowned. “I’d far rather tell you about it than I would that despicable man.

” He drew out his notes from a drawer and ran his eye over them.

“Let me see… We arrived at nine minutes to eleven.” He patted his waistcoat.

“I checked my watch on arrival. I always do. In the hall to greet us were Mr. Atkins, butler to His Grace and now to you, Mrs. Barnes, the housekeeper of long standing, and Mr. Rowan, head groom, who told me he’d been employed at the castle since he was a boy.

No other servants were present, and the library door was closed and locked.

Mr. Atkins was in charge and had the key.

He informed us he’d sent Her Grace and Lady Dora up to lie down as both ladies were suffering from acute shock.

He’d sent them up together, to give one another comfort. ”

All well so far. This tallied with what Richard had already learned. “What first struck you when you went into the library?”

Mr. Evers’s brow furrowed. “As far as I could tell, very little was out of place. Save for the body on the floor, of course.” His eyes took on a faraway expression, as though he were seeing the scene again.

“His Grace was lying with his feet towards the door, as if he’d fallen backwards onto the rug.

He was wearing silk breeches and stockings.

One of his shoes had come off. If you look at my sketch, you’ll see I’ve included that.

” He tapped the paper, perhaps more than a little proud of his own attention to detail.

Richard nodded. “And the weapon? Where was that?”

Mr. Evers nodded. “I’m coming to that. I have a particular way of working, if you don’t mind, Your Grace.

” He cleared his throat. “Now. Where was I? Aha. He must have removed his coat. It was lying on the back of the seat on the far side of the desk. There was an empty brandy glass and a half full decanter on the desk. Just the one glass.”

So Marcus had been drinking. Nothing new there.

“His Grace was still wearing his waistcoat, which was unbuttoned, and his cravat, which was still done up. His right arm was thrown out to the side, his left bent with his hand up near his head.” He cleared his throat again, as though not liking his task.

“His head was slightly to one side, as though he’d been looking to the left when the trigger was pulled.

There was a small hole in his right temple, a larger exit wound on the left side of his head.

Very little blood or brain matter on the rug.

I concluded that the fatal shot had come from the right, while he was standing nearer to the door, as the blood and brain matter was scattered over some of the furniture and bookshelves at head height. ”

Luckily Richard was well acquainted with violent death and this description didn’t bother him. “The weapon?”

Evers nodded. “It was lying close to his right hand as though it had fallen from his grip. It was one of a pair of dueling pistols which Mr. Atkins identified for me as belonging to His Grace. He told me his master kept them in the study. To hand for when he liked to use them of an evening. For target practice, apparently. Indoors. Something I must admit I found a little strange, but then, he was a duke.”

Richard ignored the implication that dukes were not normal. “Did you find the other pistol of the pair?”

Mr. Evers nodded.

“And was it loaded?”

Another nod. “It was. I asked Mr. Atkins and he told me that His Grace was in the habit of keeping them loaded in case of burglars, and in case he needed them in a hurry for any other reason. Although I have to say that I have no idea what other reason for which he could have required them. Mr. Atkins was the one who ascertained that it was not unusual for His Grace to practice target shooting in the library in the middle of the night. With those two weapons. I have been led to believe that His Grace has been involved in at least two duels in the last few years. I concluded that he must have considered it wise to be a crack shot. Just in case. Mr. Atkins confirmed this.”

Richard suppressed a smile. Much as Marcus, as a boy, had constantly practiced with his bow, intent on reaching the standards of a Robin Hood or William Tell. Marcus had always insisted on being the best, and the animals on the park had suffered for it.

“Can you tell me anything about what happened before your arrival?”

Mr. Evers nodded. “Mr. Atkins informed me that he’d heard the shot at about three in the morning.

He’d been in bed. Their Graces, and Lady Dora Carstairs, had returned from an evening engagement an hour before that and His Grace had informed Mr. Atkins he could retire to bed.

They were going to take a glass of brandy in the library, something Mr. Atkins said His Grace often did after he’d been out for the evening. ”

“Did Mr. Atkins think my cousin was drunk?”

Mr. Evers shifted a little, perhaps not wanting to speak badly of the dead. “He did.”

Richard nodded. “And when he heard the shot, what did he do?”

Mr. Evers consulted his notes again. “At first he assumed it was His Grace practicing with his pistols, but then he heard a scream, and this alerted him to the possibility that all was not well. He put on his trousers, knocked on the housekeeper’s door, and hurried upstairs from the servants’ quarters.

When he arrived at the library, he found Her Grace, the duchess, and Lady Dora with the body of the duke.

Both of them were in a state of severe distress.

Mrs. Barnes arrived a few moments later, and Mr. Atkins sent both the ladies off with her to see if she could calm them down.

He informed me he wanted to get them away from the gory sight. ”

He turned a page in his notebook. “He then proceeded to take a quick look around the library in case there were any lurking burglars, and checked to see if His Grace was alive. He was not. He then closed the door and locked it and informed Mr. Rowan, the groom, who had also heard the shot, that someone would have to call the magistrate. The colonel. Realizing nothing more could be done for the duke, he didn’t call Mr. Sanders, the land agent, until he deemed it a reasonable hour.

Mr. Sanders then took over and set up a guard, one of the grooms, over the library door.

They sent for the colonel when they deemed it a polite time to disturb him.

I gather they saw no point in sending for him sooner, as His Grace was clearly dead. ”

“And no one touched the pistol until you arrived?”

“Mr. Atkins assured me no one went into the library after he closed the door. Other than Mr. Sanders, of course.”

Richard frowned. Someone was lying here and it wasn’t Mr. Evers. A more upright young man he had yet to meet. And a thorough one with all his observations and careful note taking.

“Did you tell all this to your Mr. Barker?”

Mr. Evers pulled a disgusted face. “He is not ‘my Mr. Barker,’ Your Grace. Far from it. If I never see that scoundrel again, I shall be a happy man.” He paused.

“I did tell him most of that though, before he tried offering me money. I am a servant of justice, Your Grace, not someone who can be bought. I was deeply offended that he thought I might be.”

Richard nodded. “Most commendable. But what was it he wanted you to say?”

Mr. Evers frowned. “I would really rather not divulge that.”

“I’m afraid I’m going to need you to.”

“Putting it into words offends my sensibilities.”

“It won’t offend me. Just tell me.”

Mr. Evers swallowed. “He wanted me to say that I thought His Grace had been murdered. That he could not have killed himself.”