Rathe was pleased he had been spared the necessity of stating the fact himself. “Whose invitation was this?”
“Edmund Lanyon. You know him, I suppose. He’s one of yours, after all.”
Rathe knew the name, but he was not personally acquainted with the man. Lanyon was older than Rathe, a member of a different set of Chambers. There had never been any occasion, perhaps never any reason, for their paths to cross. “What about this motive the police say Nicholas has, Caroline? You’d have to get over that hurdle too.”
“I don’t accept it is a motive. Not for murder.”
“Richard Temple was about to ruin you, Caroline.”
“All he did was sack Nicholas,” she protested. “That’s not a motive for murder.”
“Nicholas had cost Temple a fortune. He’d been trusted to work with one of Temple’s major clients an
