Murder Most Malicious by Alyssa Maxwell Page B

strand of hair that hung loose. “Who isn’t? Aren’t you worried?”
    Yes, she was, but at this point she hadn’t enough information to warrant panicking. Did Connie know something Eva didn’t?
    Of the two men, George Vernon was the one Connie knew best. In fact, the girl barely knew Nick at all, so surely the prospect of his being charged with a crime wouldn’t have such a drastic effect on her. One might even term her reaction. . . passionate.
    Ah, a budding romance, Eva guessed. But there was something more here. She glimpsed it in the wariness of Connie’s expression, rather like that of a fox who knows the hounds’ snapping teeth will soon be in its flesh.
    â€œConnie,” Eva said as gently as if the maid were a five-year-old child, “perhaps I can help you. Do you know something about all this, something you should tell me?”
    Connie’s eyes filled with tears. She raised a hand to wipe them away, and what Eva spied peeking out from the edge of the girl’s sleeve prompted her to seize her wrist.
    â€œDear heavens, Connie, where did you get that bruise?”
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    Phoebe listened silently while Eva filled her in on what had occurred below stairs. They stood at the end of the hallway that linked the morning room and solarium to one of the back staircases, where Phoebe had asked Eva to meet her to compare notes from above and below stairs.
    â€œAnd the bruises on her wrist, my lady. Connie tried telling me she got them cleaning out Lady Wroxly’s hearth, but I’d swear those marks were left by fingers. A vise grip, my lady.”
    Phoebe felt her eyes widen. Another set of bruises? Could it be a coincidence that both Julia and the chambermaid sported such marks at the same time? It seemed highly doubtful. “Did she mention Lord Allerton at all?”
    â€œNo, my lady. Nor did she mention Vernon. But it was the news of the cleaver being found in Vernon’s room that sent her running scared.”
    â€œFrom what I understand, Mr. Hensley has been staying in that room as well.”
    â€œYes, but Connie barely knows him. ” Eva blushed faintly, just enough for Phoebe to perceive it.
    â€œTrue. Do you believe Vernon could have bruised Connie’s wrist like that?”
    Eva shook her head. “I don’t, my lady. I don’t believe he has an aggressive bone in his body. I would practically stake my life on it.”
    â€œPractically?”
    â€œWe can never fully know someone, can we? Never know what they’re capable of until we’ve seen them in a dire situation.”
    â€œNo, I suppose you’re right. I fear . . .”
    â€œYes, my lady?”
    â€œEva, do I have your word this will be kept in the utmost secrecy?”
    Her maid drew back with a hand to her breastbone, as if greatly offended. “Of course, my lady!”
    â€œI’m sorry. I should not have asked that.” Phoebe seized Eva’s hand and drew her into the recess of a nearby window. “Connie is not the only woman to have been recently seized in so ungentlemanly a manner.”
    Eva gasped and reached for Phoebe’s hands. Her shawl fell away, and Eva’s gaze dropped to her forearms, exposed by her three-quarter sleeves. “My lady! You mean to say someone dared lay his hands upon you—”
    â€œNo, not me. I cannot say who, for that would be betraying a confidence. And please do not try to guess. But I will tell you the name of the brute in question.”
    At that moment the door to the morning room burst open and Miles Brannock strode into the corridor. He looked right and then left, and upon spotting Phoebe and Eva, started toward them.
    â€œMy lady,” he said with a nod before turning his attention to Eva. “Miss Huntford, we’ll need to speak with the housemaid again. If you wouldn’t mind relaying the message downstairs.”
    â€œConnie? Why? What’s happened?” It was