As Death Draws Near by Anna Lee Huber Page A

warrants it. In fact, I’ve been very well mannered this entire carriage ride. You know I have.”
    I rolled my eyes heavenward. He sounded like nothing so much as a little boy trying to persuade us he deserved a special treat.
    Gage was equally unimpressed. “That may be so, but that doesn’t mean I trust you to keep a civil and courteous tongue while we’re at the abbey.”
    â€œOh, for heaven’s sake!” Marsdale snapped. “I’m not going to seduce the nuns.”
    â€œI should hope not.” Gage turned to stare out the window in a bored manner. “Regardless, you’re not going to be given the opportunity.”
    Marsdale’s mouth turned down in frustration, but he made no further arguments. It seemed the matter was dismissed.
    We continued past the Yellow House following the line of trees and shrubbery which separated us from the tall white tower I’d seen earlier. A short distance from the tavern there was another gap in the vegetation. This one revealed a tiny stream or mill race which had run under the road and emptied into a large pond. Beyond that stood the white tower, one of four matching turrets that projected symmetrically from each corner of a large four-story square building. I decided this must be Rathfarnham Castle. Our coachman had told us about it at our last stop when I’d asked him how much he knew about our intended destination. His knowledge was limited, but he was aware of there being a castle which the village had initially been established to serve.
    A short distance later, the road ended abruptly at a cluster of small cottages that appeared to have seen better days. We were forced to turn either left into almost a leafy tunnel or right in the direction our driver guided the carriage, heading south again for another quarter mile. Here on our left stood a black wrought iron gate flanked with gray block pillars. As the carriage slowed and turned onto the gravelbefore the gate, I had a brief glimpse of the black and gold seals hanging from the center of each which read “Loretto Abbey.”
    We had been waiting for about a minute for someone inside the grounds to come open the tall gates for us to enter, when Marsdale suddenly spoke from the corner where he sat silently stewing. “She’s my cousin.”
    All three of us turned our heads sharply to look at him.
    Marsdale glowered at us when we didn’t reply. “Miss Lennox. The girl you say was murdered. She’s my cousin.”
    I didn’t know whether to think this was some peculiar trick to convince us to let him join us inside the abbey or the truth.
    â€œShe’s
your
cousin?” Gage attempted to clarify.
    â€œYes. Though on her father’s side. I’m no relation to Wellington.” Who was related to her through her mother.
    Gage and I shared a look, communicating our mutual mistrust and suspicion.
    â€œI see.” Gage settled deeper into the squabs, clasping his hands in his lap as he studied the marquess. “And you didn’t think to inform us of this until now?”
    Marsdale’s eyes cut to the window, where a bee buzzed about the frame and then flew away. “Yes, well. It seemed a dashed awkward thing to discuss.”
    â€œIs that really why you were in Whitehaven?” I asked.
    â€œNo. I told you the truth about that. I didn’t know your voyage to Ireland had anything to do with my cousin until you mentioned her on the boat.” His mouth twisted in self-deprecation. “Didn’t even know she had entered a convent, let alone that she was dead.”
    â€œThen you weren’t close?”
    â€œI don’t think I can even tell you the last time I saw her.” He shot me another wry glance. “We didn’t exactly run in the same circles.” His brow furrowed and his voice softened. “But I was rather fond of her, in my own way.”
    I watched the play of emotions across his face and