Chapter 4 #2
‘I knew I could trust you, Cynthia.’ Clio squeezed Cynthia’s hand before glancing at her cousin.
You are wrong about her, Helena.
Helena rolled her eyes at Clio. ‘Has everyone forgotten we are in the middle of a murder investigation? You might trust her with our secrets – which is lunacy if you ask me – but let’s not forget she is still a suspect in her husband’s murder.
This is hardly the time for,’ she flapped her hand between Cynthia and Clio, ‘whatever this is.’
Hamlet’s clicking growl usually encouraged Helena, but he flicked his tail in irritation and when she reached for him, ducked under her hand.
‘This is friendship. Or have you never experienced that with someone outside your family?’
Cynthia’s words cut deeper than Helena expected.
Because she was right. Helena didn’t have any friendships outside of Clio, Ellie, and her aunt.
She didn’t trust anyone other than her coven.
Nor did she need that kind of connection.
She didn’t want it regardless of how her heart might ache at seeing such easy familiarity between Clio and Cynthia.
Thomas turned his green gaze on Helena, and she was struck by their similarity of shape to Cynthia’s. He was hard edges and rough lines, while his sister was refined and delicate, but their familial connection was clear. ‘She is not a suspect. Cynthia has done nothing wrong.’
‘We’ve all done something wrong.’ Helena couldn’t stop her gaze from finding Cynthia.
She was being swept along a wild river, helpless to pull free.
So, she lashed out instead. ‘We’ve all made choices we regret.
The question is, what choices have you made with your husband that you regret, Lady Burrows? ’
Cynthia squared her shoulders. ‘I have a long list of choices I regret when it comes to Hubert. But killing him is not among them.’
‘Because you don’t regret what you did?’ Triumph and an unexpected rush of disappointment filled her. Had she just gotten the lady to admit her crime? Helena stepped closer as Cynthia stood from the settee.
Everyone on Helena’s periphery disappeared.
Cynthia strode close enough for Helena to notice fine lines spanning from the corners of her eyes that rice powder couldn’t hide. Vanilla and honeysuckle toyed with her senses. Such a sweet and comforting smell from a woman who wreaked havoc on Helena’s internal stability.
‘I don’t regret it because I didn’t do it.
’ Enunciating each word through clenched teeth was a skill Cynthia must have learned while training to be a proper lady.
‘Tricking people into saying things that aren’t true, is that your witchy power?
Hardly impressive.’ She raised an imperious eyebrow, a feature Helena had never found attractive until now.
She had the wild desire to pull her close and taste the salt and sting of her words.
Helena ignored Hamlet’s concerned whine as she shrank the distance between them. Their skirts tangled. ‘Would you like me to impress you, Lady Burrows?’
They could have been the only two people in the room.
Helena lifted her hand, and a swirl of water created a mini vortex over her palm.
Clio might own fire, but Helena could call the power of the ocean and let it flood through her, washing her enemies away in a rush of power.
‘You seem remarkably accepting of shocking truths. A murdered husband. A coven of witches in your new family. And yet you stand here, serene and accepting. I don’t believe you are being honest, Lady Burrows. ’
‘Stand down, Helena.’ Uncle Lachlan’s growl pulled her back from the swirling depths.
What am I doing? Showing off for a woman who means nothing to me. Madness.
Helena clasped her fingers into a fist, stray droplets of water splashing to the ground.
Cynthia blinked, as if waking from a spell.
She took a hurried step backwards. ‘I think I would like to retire to my room. Despite what you believe, Miss Blair, I am not nearly as steady as I may seem. Just practised at putting on a brave face. But today has exceeded my skills. I find myself in need of rest.’
‘Of course.’ Thomas stepped between Helena and his sister.
‘We will need to speak with you tomorrow, Lady Burrows.’ Uncle Lachlan said the words like an apology.
Lieutenant General Grey turned his back to Cynthia, impressive shoulders blocking her from Uncle Lachlan’s view. ‘Can’t you give her a few days, Lachlan? She’s been through hell.’
Uncle Lachlan ran his hands through his already impossibly dishevelled curls. ‘You know there will be questions if we delay. And if she is innocent, then the sooner we can clear her name, the sooner we can move on to whoever did this.’
Thomas strode to his friend and leaned down so their noses almost touched. ‘She is innocent! I will take apart anyone who says differently. Including you.’
Helena felt power rising within her. She held one palm over the other, ready to send a blast of water at her brother-in-law that would push him to the other side of the room if necessary.
‘Thomas.’ Clio joined him, putting a hand on his arm. ‘No one is accusing Cynthia of anything.’
‘It doesn’t sound like that to me.’ Thomas refused to look at his wife, his gaze burning into Uncle Lachlan’s.
‘I’m not accusin’ her. But I canna’ claim her innocence withou’ proof. We need to make sure there is no doubt, Thomas. Or even if we do clear her name, her friends in society will never let her back. Can’t you see, lad? I’m tryin’ to help.’
Thomas exhaled through his nose and clenched his jaw.
‘Fine. But you won’t speak with her unless I’m present.
’ His rough voice brooked no arguments. Helena had to give him credit.
He cared deeply about his sister. She wondered if the bonds of his friendship with Uncle Lachlan could withstand the outcome of this investigation.
The words he was thinking about the superintendent were so forceful, she didn’t have to try to hear them.
They filled her mind effortlessly and would burn the ears of any sailor.
‘I’m not afraid to meet with Superintendent Lachlan alone, Thomas. He’s right. We don’t want people thinking there was any interference from you when my innocence is established.’ Cynthia’s calm words belied the hectic flush covering her chest and rising up her neck.
Helena hid her gaze and tried again to push into Cynthia’s mind. This time, her efforts were met with a sharp smack of power.
What the bleeding banshees was that?
Uncle Lachlan’s words pulled her back into the moment.
‘No one doubts your courage, Lady Burrows. You and your brother have that in common.’ If he was trying to smooth the rough edges of Thomas’ anger, it wasn’t working. Thomas had some rather inventive thoughts on where Uncle Lachlan could stick his head.
‘That is kind of you to say.’ Cynthia nodded at Uncle Lachlan, regal manners back in place.
Why can’t I read this woman? And what power is she hiding?
Things weren’t adding up with more than just the investigation. Something about Cynthia muted Helena’s abilities, and that was even more concerning than the possibility of her murdering Hubert.
I need to speak with Aunt Rowan. She will be able to help me remedy the situation.
‘You’ve nothing to fear, Lady Burrows. We won’t be alone. Helena will join us. And she’ll be on her best behaviour. Won’t you, lass?’
Helena should tell him. If Uncle Lachlan knew she couldn’t hear Cynthia’s thoughts, his invitation would be rescinded.
Especially after the way she had already treated the marchioness.
She was never so aggressive or rude, but Cynthia seemed to pick at her control.
Which was another reason to tell Uncle Lachlan of her inability and excuse herself from the investigation.
Only then, she wouldn’t see Cynthia on the morrow.
And for reasons she didn’t wish to examine, she very much wanted to see her.
So, she would talk to Aunt Rowan and find a solution before tomorrow.
To help Uncle Lachlan solve this case. Not because I want to know what Cynthia is thinking.
She stretched her lips in a wide smile. ‘Of course, Uncle. When am I ever badly behaved.’
Cynthia’s snort of derision made reading her thoughts unnecessary. Not that Helena noticed. Or cared.