The Butler Did It Read Online Free PDF

locked them up for a terrible reason.”
    â€œLet’s talk about locking you in your dressing room,” Emma said succinctly, ringing the small bell on the tea tray, at which time Thornley appeared in the doorway, just as if he’d been standing right outside all along, waiting for the summons…and hearing every word the ladies said.
    â€œYou rang, Miss Clifford?” Thornley inquired, already picking up the tea tray, and not appearing at all surprised to see that one of the marquis’s priceless china cups was now in seven uneven pieces.
    â€œYes, thank you, Thornley,” she said, laying her damp, tea-stained serviette on the tray. “I was wondering—” she looked straight into the man’s eyes “—do you happen to know the whereabouts of Mr. Clifford?”
    Thornley, eyes quickly averted, looking somewhere in the vicinity of the portrait of the late Marquis and several of his hounds that hung over the mantel, said, “I believe he is resting, Miss Clifford.”
    â€œHe’s still in bed? ” Emma sighed. “It’s nearly gonefive, Thornley. What time did my brother get in this morning?”
    â€œI couldn’t really say, Miss Clifford,” Thornley said, still avoiding her gaze, even as she stood—which didn’t come close to putting her on eye level with the man, but she’d hoped to at least be able to read his expression.
    But Thornley had no expressions, other than Proper, and possibly, Prudent.
    â€œVery well, as I know he accompanied my brother, I’ll ask Riley,” Emma said, brushing past him as she headed for the stairs. She stopped, turned back toward the pair of sofas. “Mama? Do you have another penny?”
    â€œThat won’t be necessary, Miss Clifford,” Thornley said stiffly. “Riley escorted Mr. Clifford to a…a sporting event last evening, and they returned here at approximately six this morning, Mr. Clifford rather the worse for wear. Riley has been reprimanded, Miss Clifford.”
    â€œA sporting event?” Fanny asked. “What was it? Mill? Cockfight? Oh, wait. A sporting event, you say, Thornley? Or a sporting house? ”
    Emma watched as Thornley’s ears turned bright red. Poor fellow. He could keep his spine straight. His expression never betrayed what he might be thinking. And she hadn’t really needed to see his eyes. Those ears of his were a dead giveaway.
    â€œAh!” Fanny crowed, punching a fist into the air. “Good for him, and about time, too!”
    Daphne, who had come within Ames Ace of swooning into the cushions at the thought of being murdered in her bed, now gave way to the blessed darkness that swam before her eyes.
    Â 
    D ARKNESS WOULD HAVE BEEN swimming in front of Morgan’s eyes, save for the fact that the fog wouldn’t let it. The entire countryside had turned a thick, ugly gray-yellow, slowing the progress of the pair of coaches to a crawl.
    They should have reached London hours ago, he knew, snapping shut his pocket watch after checking the time. He’d returned to the coach at the last posting inn, to rest Sampson, and because he did not much care for the feel of the gray-yellow damp on his face, but it was now past his usual dinnertime, and he was hungry. Damn early country hours, where he’d become accustomed to eating his main meal long before six.
    â€œWe still should arrive before eight, don’t you think?” he asked a morose and rather pale-looking Wycliff, who didn’t seem quite at his best riding backward in the coach. “In plenty of time for supper.”
    â€œI…I really hadn’t thought much about…about food, my lord,” the valet choked out, somehow able to speak without really opening his teeth.
    â€œReally? And here I am, famished. As I recall the thing, Mrs. Timon always had a way with a capon. Gaston will be in charge of the kitchen while we’re there,but for the most