Page 87 of Death at a Highland Wedding

Sinclair argued to finish Müller’s contract… after speaking to the man. What did Müller say?

I’ll need to confirm this story with Cranston. For now, I consider whether to push Violet. She’s admitted to being the woman at the lake. That’s one mystery solved. But according to the maid, the note said that Sinclair knew he should not send it, but he could not stop thinking about her. That sounds romantic in nature, so my gut tells me Violet is lying about that.

Or is “lying” too strong a word? It implies deliberately misleading me on an investigation when I suspect the truth is much more forgivable.

Violet says she suspected Sinclair wanted to provide a sympathetic shoulder to cry on. But the other day, I overheard Sinclair askingFionato be that shoulder for Violet.

Speaking to Fiona, Sinclair had acted as if he wasn’t close enough to Violet to help her. Which doesn’t seem to have been the case.

Whether Violet and Sinclair were romantically linked or not doesn’t affect the investigation, as far as I can see. But it would have a huge effect on Violet, emotionally and socially. One fiancé dumps her and the next candidate is murdered? Tongues would wag, and her marital prospects could plummet to zero.

Except…

That would presume anyone knew Sinclair was courting her, which obviously they did not, with Sinclair going so far as to enlist Fiona’s help in comforting Violet.

I need to work this through more.

“I must ask if you saw or heard anything last night,” I say.

Her shoulders droop as she blinks back tears. “I only wish that I had. I presume Ezra was attacked while I sat waiting. If I knew anything that could free my brother, I would have already put aside all propriety to admit to being out there. But I did not. I was sitting on the bench, lost in my thoughts.”

Facing the lake, turned away from where Sinclair was. Also away from where the Hall kids were field-dressing that stag, which they’d do as quietly as they could. From that distance, she wouldn’t have heard soft voices. A shout, yes, but there’s no reason to think Sinclair’s death was anything but silent, save for the thud of the blow, which she’d have been much too far away to hear.

“Did you see or hearanything?” I press. “Even unrelated to what happened to Mr. Sinclair?”

She shakes her head. “If I had, I would have retreated to the house. The night seemed empty.”

Empty… except for Sinclair coming to meet her, a killer sneaking up on him, the Hall kids field-dressing a deer, plus Gray and me having a picnic on the hill.

Yet everyone out there had a reason to be quiet. No one would have had a lantern. And the estate is large enough that it really would have seemed empty.

I’d spotted Violet, and I believe the two teens saw or heard something. But otherwise, we all kept to our bubbles of illicit nighttime activity.

I ask Violet more questions, mostly nailing down the timeline. Whendid she leave the house? When did she return? Did she go straight to bed? What time did she get up in the morning? She answers them all readily… until I hit the last question.

“The note from Mr. Sinclair,” I say. “Might I see that?”

She pauses long enough that I know there’s not a hope in hell of seeing that note.

“I would keep it to myself,” I say. “I can tell Dr. Gray that I read it but returned it.”

“I will look for it,” she says. “I believe I threw it into the fire, but I will look.”

Yep, I’m definitely not getting that note. Which suggests it was indeed a final copy of the romantic missive the maid read.

“That is fine,” I say. “Thank you. And now I will leave you to your grief.”

TWENTY-NINE

Despite being up half the night, I wake at the crack of dawn and feed the wildcat kitten while Alice gets a rare lie-in. When I hear people below, I head out. On my way down, I pause outside Isla’s door, but it’s shut and no sound comes from within, which means Alice isn’t the only one enjoying a late rising.

“Mallory?” Gray’s murmured voice reaches me from the stairs, and he comes back up to frown at me. “Is everything all right?”

“I have a question,” I say.

His face relaxes into a faint smile. “Ah, nothing new then. I presume it is something only my sister can answer?”

“No, you’ll do.”