“Perhaps he struck her there, in her room, and she fled,” Nan suggested gently. Her brow was knit in an expression of pity. “Perhaps he pursued her onto the allure and pushed her off.”
Mira shook her head with more force. “No, Nan. If Miss Linworth was trying to escape from Nicholas, why would she run away from the main house, run instead toward the tower where she knew she would find no help?” Unless, she thought, Olivia was in a panic and became lost in the maze of Blackwell’s hallways. “Besides,” she continued, almost to herself, “would she not have thought to scream? No one heard a scream, and, while the house is large, it is not that large.”
Lifting one shoulder in an uncertain shrug, Nan countered Mira’s uneasy logic. “So perhaps he struck her in the bedchamber and rendered her unconscious or even killed her, then carried her out to the allure and threw her off the curtain wall.” Nan wrapped her arms around her middle, the image of such a cold-blooded act mirrored in her far-off stare.
“Still, it is not logical,” Mira insisted. “If Nicholas struck Miss Linworth and wished to, um,” Mira stumbled, flustered, “um, dispose of her, why would he carry her toward his own room? Would that not incriminate him? It simply is not logical.”
Nan huffed an impatient sigh. “Miss Mira, people do not always behave in a logical fashion. I should think that someone mad enough or angry enough to murder a young woman, that person might not think so clearly.”
A little bubble of panic welled up in Mira’s chest. And then a thought struck clear and sharp in her mind, and the panic instantly evaporated. “Motive.”
A puzzled frown marring her delicate features, Nan pulled back. “Motive? Miss Mira, what on earth are you talking about?”
A smile crept across Mira’s face, a smile of serene satisfaction. “Nan, our entire discussion is premised upon your assumption that Nicholas saw Miss Linworth’s bags, thought she was leaving him, and attacked her in a rage.”
Nan nodded slowly.
“But, Nan, that assumption is flawed. Nicholas already knew Miss Linworth was leaving. He gave her his blessing, offered to help her leave.”
Mira couldn’t help laughing at the comical look of surprise on Nan’s face. “It is true,” she continued. “Nicholas knew that Miss Linworth and Mr. Ellerby were in love, and he offered to step aside. He even offered to help them elope. So he would not have been angered to see Miss Linworth’s bags packed. Nicholas might have even packed her bags himself,” she concluded with a mischievous smile.
After a beat of stunned silence, Nan narrowed her eyes in skepticism. “How do you know this, Miss Mira?”
“Nicholas told me.”
Nan closed her eyes and dropped her head back, groaning in frustration. “Miss Mira, why do you believe him?”
Mira’s chin rose as her spirits fell. “I just do.”
Nan groaned again.
“Well,” Mira added, “what he told me is consistent with what Mr. Ellerby said, that he and Miss Linworth were in love.”
A miserable silence filled the room. Elbows planted on her knees, Nan leaned forward to rest her head in her hands. Mira sat as still as a stone, only her eyes moving restlessly about the room, searching for something to inspire her.
“And,” she began cautiously, “Nicholas seemed not to harbor any strong feelings for Miss Linworth at all. I brought her up directly, and quite suddenly. The subject must have taken him by surprise. Yet he did not react strongly, only seemed distracted.
“Her death was only a year ago,” Mira continued, warming to her cause. “If he had been deeply affected by anything about Miss Linworth—his own engagement to her, her affection for Mr. Ellerby, her death—he did not let on in the slightest. He seemed sad that she met such an end, as anyone would, but he did not seem distraught.”
Nan raised her head and pierced Mira with a searching stare. “Are you certain, Miss Mira? Are you certain he was not feigning his indifference? Are you certain you are not allowing your own feelings to color your perceptions?”
“Absolutely.” Mira spoke with far more conviction than she felt.