Part Three
Chapter Twelve
In a rage Roderick swept all the food and dishes of the small table. For an instant he wished he was in the formal dining hall so there was more to destroy, but he was in the family’s private dining room.
Over the destroyed meal and china on the floor he glared at his mother. “Who killed him?”
She was stone-faced as always. That had always been attributed to her upbringing and ethnicity. The Mulvadians were not an emotional people and as far as Roderick knew, his mother never had any affection for his father, let alone love. It was a miracle the couple had two children. “A coquette he had seduced back to his bed,” was her stiff answer.
Captain Gillard stepped forward. “It was your mother who found them,” he reported.
It was the wrong thing to say to Roderick
