Dangerous to Know by TASHA ALEXANDER Page A

me,” I said, and recounted for him what had transpired the night before.
    He listened carefully and then paused, as if considering his reply. “And does Hargreaves think this Sebastian is our murderer?”
    â€œHe’s not willing to reject any possibilities.”
    Laughter coming from the maze interrupted us. “You’ve no chance of winning.” It was Madeline, her voice a singsong full of light. George reopened his watch.
    â€œYou’re going to be disappointed,” he called to her, then turned back to me. “Is there any assistance at all that I can provide?”
    â€œNot at present,” I said. “Inspector Gaudet plans to find Sebastian.”
    â€œAnd you think that buffoon can accomplish such a thing?”
    â€œOnly if he has my husband’s help.”
    â€œAh. Which leaves you alone to remember gruesome sights. I’m so terribly sorry, Emily,” he said, and placed a light hand on my arm. “We can’t have you feeling morbid. I shall make it my mission to entertain and distract you.”
    â€œYou’re too kind.”
    â€œNot at all. I accept it as my moral duty. What English gentleman could do otherwise? I shall start by insisting you take tea with me. And Madeline, of course.” His voice rose. “Who has now no chance at defeating me. Perhaps together the two of you can earn bragging rights.”
    Madeline appeared, stepping out from behind the tall, carefully manicured hedge. “I’m capable of timing things too, my dear,” she said. “I bested you by three and a quarter minutes.”
    George laughed. “And so you have. I knew I shouldn’t let you have a watch.” He embraced her, kissed her on both cheeks, and took her hand. “Inside. We’re all in dire need of tea.”
    â€œHave it sent out,” Madeline said. “It’s too beautiful a day to be indoors. And I’m desperate to catch up with Adèle.”
    George winced as she called me by the wrong name, but quickly pasted a smile on his face. “This is Emily, darling.”
    â€œOf course,” she said, blinking the confusion out of her eyes.
    â€œYou’d like tea outside?” George asked. She nodded. “Your wish, madame, is, as always, my command.” With a low bow, he took his leave from us, promising to return with the genial libation and generous portions of hot beignets.
    Madeline, once again herself, looped her arm through mine and led me to a soft patch of lawn between the moat and a cluster of topiary pines. “My favorite spot for a picnic,” she said, lowering herself onto a large blanket already spread on the ground, books and papers and a handful of freshly picked wildflowers happily scattered across it. I joined her, still feeling troubled, my mouth dry, my skin prickling. Disturbed though I was by the murder, at the moment, the image of the little girl was causing me more distress.
    â€œAre there any children living on the estate?” I asked, suddenly conscious of the possibility of a simple explanation. “One of the servants’, perhaps?”
    â€œNo,” Madeline said, sighing. “George and I have faced a number of…disappointments. It might appear cold, I know, but I can’t bear to have other people’s children underfoot. After my fifth…” She stopped, bit her lip hard. “One of the under gardeners had a little girl. We gave him notice because it was too painful for me to come upon her playing on the grounds.”
    â€œI understand all too well,” I said. She asked no questions, required no explanation, but took my hand and squeezed it. “How old was she?”
    â€œThe gardener’s girl?” she asked. I nodded. “Three, maybe four.”
    â€œWhere do they live now?”
    â€œOh, I don’t know. We gave him an excellent reference. I’ve no doubt he easily found another position.”
    â€œHow long ago