Page 93 of A Stolen Heart

“Provided she knows it.”

“You don’t think she is who she says?”

“Oh, I presume she is probably the common-law wife of the man who attacked you. Obviously she knew enough about the matter to come to you with her ‘information.’ And she knew that Peggoddy was hired the other time. But whether she actually saw the transaction between Trimble and this other person—” He shrugged again, then added, a twinkle in his eyes, “Although, I must say that comment about getting rid of that interfering American bitch does have a certain ring of truth about it.”

Alexandra made a face at him. “You would latch on to that, of course. Still, it does make it seem authentic. I’m not sure we can credit Maisy with enough imagination to think up such details. I am inclined to believe that she is telling the truth.”

They walked down the hall to the drawing room, but neither of them sat down. Alexandra wandered to the window and stood looking at the street. Sebastian lounged in the doorway, watching her.

“Why do you think it’s the truth?” he asked.

“Because she said it was a woman. That is too strange. If one were making it up, the natural thing to do would be to say it is a man. Isn’t that what you were expecting? Weren’t you surprised to hear her say ‘she’?”

“Yes,” Sebastian admitted. “Of course, I suppose she could have said it to throw us off the trail—if she wanted the money but was scared of the man coming after her if she betrayed him.”

“Or if someone hired her to tell us the story so that we would be led astray.”

“Do you honestly think that?”

“No,” Alexandra admitted quickly. “That seems far too devious. The truth, I find, is usually simpler—and rarely clever.”

“I agree. If she didn’t tell the truth, I think it was because she didn’t know it or was scared of the person who hired Trimble.” He paused and looked at Alexandra. “It seems we are talking all around the real issue here.”

Alexandra sighed and nodded. “Yes. Who is the woman?”

“It can’t be Lady Ursula.”

“Who else could it be?” Alexandra countered. “The woman we know it can’t be is Aunt Hortense—or any other person in my family. Maisy was definite that the woman was not American.”

“Unless she disguised her accent in order to fool them.”

Alexandra grimaced. “An American who is able to sound so like a toff that an Englishwoman is fooled?”

“I agree. It sounds unlikely. But I don’t think we can rule out your American family entirely. They could, after all, be operating through an English friend or distant relative.”

“Then they would be letting yet another party into the situation—it seems unlikely. The obvious answer is an Englishwoman who would stand to lose something if I am the Countess’s granddaughter. And who else could that be except Lady Ursula?”

Sebastian shook his head. “I have known the woman all my life. She is overbearing, annoying and sanctimonious. But I cannot imagine her killing to keep her mother from claiming you as her granddaughter.”

“Then who else could it be? Penelope?”

“Don’t be absurd.”

“Who, then?”

“There must be some other person who we don’t know about. Some reason they want your mother silenced and you out of the way.”

“What other reason could there be?”

“I don’t know. That’s the problem. At least when I am engaged in a fight, I usually know who my opponent is.”

“Perhaps we should leave for the United States. It is just that I am scared to do so while Mother is still—”

“It’s impossible. You cannot move her now. Besides, I—”

Alexandra turned toward him, her chest tightening. “You what?”

“I do not want you to.”