It was Claude, she was sure of it! Claude Wynchingham!
She tried, as the coach rattling over uneven roads flung her from side to side as she lay on the floor, to understand what had happened and to foresee what lay ahead.
Claude had killed Sir Marcus, but why and for what reason?
They had no valuables with them in the coach and all their luggage had gone ahead with the servants, who were to arrive at the house at Newmarket before they did.
Claude must be madder and more crazed than even she had believed.
She had thought him mad when he shot Lord Wynchingham, but at least he had a reason for such behaviour, but for him to kill Sir Marcus appeared, on the face of it, a senseless criminal act of folly for which there could be no reasonable explanation.
In the meantime there was her own
