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“Well, let’s find this Tobert fellow. The sooner we do that, the sooner we can go back inside and speak with Lockart’s valet again.”

“Are the cases you work usually this involved?”

A chuckle left his throat. “Yes. What made you assume murder was simple?”

“Is it not?” She shrugged as they approached the building the stables were housed in.

“Someone is gripped with high emotion—rage, love, embarrassment, jealousy, injustice, possession—or motivated by coin. They use whatever weapon or makeshift weapon they can find, and then they follow through on those emotions that have temporarily erased commonsense.”

“You’re not wrong.” When he offered a curt nod, justification was immediate. “However, some people are very good at hiding not only the evidence but also those emotions. It doesn’t matter what motivated the act. Killing is wrong.”

“Unless your own life is threatened?” Various aspects of the law were foreign to her, and the major appeared to be a man made up of merely black and white thinking.

“Yes, that is an exception, and there are scenarios in which that is the only option.” His frown was fierce as he glanced at her and lowered his umbrella. “Let us hope that won’t prove our lot before we can solve this case.”

Caroline lowered then folded her own umbrella. “Has that happened to you before?”

“Yes.” The word was bitten off. “The last case I worked, in fact, when the criminal I was pursuing turned about suddenly and shot my kneecap.” So much bitterness was contained in the explanation, her heart tugged.

“Of course. I’m sorry I brought up the subject.” Clearly, he hadn’t made peace with his injury as he’d maintained. “If you should ever wish to talk about that time in your life, or how you are faring now because of it, I’m game.”

“There is nothing wrong with my mental state, if that is what you’re implying, Miss Ives.” The response sounded harsher than he’d ever spoken to her. “I’m sorry.” Briefly, he touched her gloved hand with his. Heated tingles jumped up her arm. “This case is frustrating me. That’s all.”

She didn’t answer. Instead, she glanced about the stables that housed perhaps eight stalls, most of which were occupied by various breeds of horses.

The warmth inside the building was most welcome, as were the scents of clean, dry straw and comforting leather.

Though she wrinkled her nose against the foul aroma of excrement, it was easily overlooked once she grew used to it.

Almost immediately, the stable master came out of a room off to the side. The tall, barrel-chested man bounced his gaze between them.

“How can I help you?”

“I’m Major Kourier, assigned to investigate the death of Mr. Blythe. Miss Ives and I need to speak with one of your grooms.”

The other man crossed his arms at his chest. “Who?”

“Tobert Smythe.”

At the back of her mind, Caroline wondered if that might not be a made-up name.

“I knew that man would be trouble.” But the stable master nodded.

“He’s mucking out stall number eight.” With a gesture, he referred to the stall at the end of the building on the left side.

“Go ahead and question him. If it comes down to it, I won’t be sad to see him go. Not one of my best workers.”

“Thank you.” As Felix started off in that direction, Caroline followed. How did he manage to compartmentalize his emotions and reactions so as not to give his opinions or thoughts away? It was something else she needed to ask him.

A few of the horses snickered as they passed.

At the stall, Felix cleared his throat. “Tobert Smythe? ”

The groom with a rake in his hand turned. When he saw them both, he frowned. “Who wants to know?”

“Major Kourier and Miss Ives.” Felix’s mouth was set in a tight line. “We need to ask you a few questions regarding how you knew Mr. Blythe.”

“Oh, uh…” The short, thin man shook his head. A trace of fear went through his expression. “Mr. Blythe and I were friends.”

“I see.” He glanced at her, and she shrugged. “Witnesses say you had a fight with the dead man the morning of his death. Care to share why with us?”

The groom blanched. “I didn’t kill him.”

Felix shrugged. “Then tell us what we need to know.”

“Mr. Blythe and I were lovers on and off. We saw each other a handful of times a year when he was in the country. His father’s estate is a day’s ride from Cartwell Manor.

” The silence following the statement was deafening.

“Except for me, it went deeper than that. I… I had feelings for him, so when he wouldn’t stop pretending that he was Mr. Lockhart in order to attract a better class of women, I got angry. ”

Caroline frowned. “Angry enough to shoot him in the back of the head so he would fall off the roof?”

“What?” Tobert gasped. “Is that how he died?” When neither of them answered, he rushed onward.

“I don’t own a pistol. Wouldn’t even know where to get one.

I merely wanted to talk, so I cornered him when he went on his morning walk.

” His Adam’s apple bobbed with a hard swallow.

“I demanded to know what his intentions were, what his plans for the future were and if they included me.”

Felix grunted. “Did they?”

“Not immediately. Said he wanted to keep me on, because sex was sex, but as a viscount’s heir, he had to make other decisions, smart decisions, that would position himself better within the ton .”

“Ah, which meant he would marry a woman and force you even further into the background,” Caroline said in a low voice. “That must have made you angry.”

“I didn’t like it, of course, but there wasn’t anything I could do about it.

” The groom shrugged as he clung to his rake.

“So I argued with him. Told him I didn’t like this calculating side of him, didn’t like how he was determined to damage Mr. Lockhart’s reputation just because they wanted the same woman. ”

“Oh?” Felix’s eyebrows soared. “Who?”

“Miss Samantha Perkins. Father’s in shipping. Wants a piece of the beau monde and a title. It didn’t matter overly much when Lockhart was just a friend, but when he discovered he was a duke’s heir? She became possessive and Lockhart fell harder. ”

“That meant there was no space left for a bounder like Blythe to even have a chance,” the major finished as he stared at the groom. “How far did your loyalty go, I wonder?”

Fear clouded Tobert’s eyes. “Was I angry? Yes, but I didn’t want Mr. Blythe dead. I couldn’t do that to him or to me. I love him.” His pointy chin quivered. “More people had issues with him than didn’t, but he didn’t deserve to die.”

“Agreed.” Felix nodded. “Where were you during luncheon hours yesterday, Mr. Smythe?”

“Here. Mucking out stalls. Then I went into the servants’ hall for my own meal.”

“Thank you. Don’t leave the estate until this case is solved.” Then, the major gestured with his head to her. “Come. We’re finished here.”

With a glance at the groom, Caroline said, “I’m sorry for your loss. I’m sure Mr. Blythe’s death left a hole in your heart that will hurt for a while.” When Tobert nodded, tears sprang into his eyes as she followed the major back through the stables and then into the yard beyond.

Soon after they both raised their umbrellas, Felix blew out a breath. “That wasn’t necessary, you know.”

“Perhaps, but just because a person is a suspect doesn’t mean they aren’t human and hurting.

” Why did she have the distinct feeling he’d somehow pulled away from her since last night?

“Lover or not, Mr. Smythe lost someone he cared for. Even you must have some compassion for that.” She came around to face him as the rain came down on her umbrella.

“Sometimes life can’t be consigned to boxes and holes, Major.

It’s much bigger, much messier, than all that. ”

He held her gaze for long moments. Nothing in his expression gave away his thoughts. “I’m going to speak with Lockhart’s valet again. Will you accompany me?”

“That depends.” Annoyance warmed her chest. “Do you want me to?”

“Of course. We are partners, are we not?” Then he turned away, but not before she glimpsed resignation in his brandy-hued eyes.

She huffed. “Is that the only reason?”

“It has to be, and you know why.” But the sound of the rain snatched at the words until all she heard was the first of it and a growl.

Hurt stabbed through her chest. How could he be so callous?

When tears prickled her eyes, Caroline quickly blinked them back.

She didn’t want him to see that he’d hurt her feelings.

Instead, she walked behind him to the manor.

How could she have been so na?ve to give him access to her body?

Now that he’d gotten what he wanted, would he cease contact with her once the case was solved?

In the servants’ hall, they found a handful of the staff around the long wooden table, and one of them was Mr. Whitmore, Lockhart’s valet .

“Good afternoon, Mrs. Flinders,” Caroline said with a watery smile at the housekeeper. She set her folded umbrella by the hearth where a cheerful fire danced. “If you don’t mind, the major needs to interview Mr. Whitmore.”

“Of course.” The older woman waved a hand. “Everyone, if you could give the major some privacy?” She looked at Caroline as the servants trickled out. “Would you like a cup of tea?”

“Yes, please.” That little nicety nearly made her cry. She avoided glancing at the major. He could take care of the interview by himself.

“Ah, Mr. Whitmore, if you could come with me? We’ll use Mrs. Flinder’s office.”

The housekeeper nodded. “All you had to do was ask, Major.”

He ignored her as well as the valet’s sputters. When his gaze caught Caroline’s on his way down the narrow corridor, he raised a blond eyebrow in question, but she flicked her attention to the teapot as Mrs. Flinders poured out a cup for her.

“Why so glum, Miss Ives? I’ve not seen you like this for a long time. You are usually as cheerful as sunshine.”