Chapter 9
Margaret Shaw did not deny knowing about Ashcroft.
She sat in the old breakfast room with her hands folded.
Seventy-two.
Gray hair.
Straight back.
No fear.
Alexander had known her nearly his entire life.
That made the conversation worse.
“You served my father.”
“Yes.”
“You knew Rose Ward.”
“Yes.”
“Isabella.”
“Since she was small.”
Alexander stared.
“You knew who she was.”
“Yes.”
Another secret.
“How many people in my childhood were lying to me?”
Margaret almost smiled.
“Most adults lie to children.”
“Not like this.”
“No.”
Alexander placed Victor’s old cigarette case on the table.
Margaret’s face changed.
“You opened the room.”
“Yes.”
“Then Victor finally told you.”
“After death.”
“He always preferred being brave after the danger passed.”
Alexander looked at her.
“Did you hate him?”
“Sometimes.”
Good.
Not worship.
“Were you Steward?”
Margaret’s eyes narrowed.
“Who told you that word?”
“Elias.”
She sat back.
“So he’s alive.”
“Yes.”
A faint relief crossed her face.
That mattered.
“You knew him.”
“As a boy.”
“Did my mother send him through you?”
“Yes.”
Alexander stared.
“Margaret.”
“Your mother came to me the morning after Ashcroft.”
“Elias with her?”
“Yes.”
“What did you do?”
“Moved him.”
“Where?”
“Three houses over three years.”
“Then?”
“Daniel Mercer took him.”
The name Raymond mentioned.
“What happened to Daniel?”
“Killed.”
“By Raymond?”
“I believe so.”
“Elias?”
“Gone before Raymond arrived.”
“Did my father know you helped?”
“Yes.”
“Raymond?”
“Suspected.”
Alexander leaned forward.
“Who was Steward?”
Margaret looked at him for a long time.
“Your grandfather had one.”
“Name.”
“Samuel Price.”
“Dead?”
“Yes.”
“Victor?”
“He refused the role at first.”
“Then?”
“Created another.”
“Who?”
Margaret looked toward the servants’ hall.
“My husband.”
Alexander froze.
“Thomas Shaw.”
Margaret nodded.
He remembered Thomas.
Head of the estate staff when Alexander was young.
Quiet.
Always carrying keys.
Died twenty years earlier.
“Thomas opened Ashcroft.”
Margaret’s eyes filled.
“Yes.”
Alexander’s hands tightened.
“Why?”
“He believed Raymond when Raymond said Sebastian planned to kill Victor.”
Again.
A lie aimed at fear.
“My husband opened one servants’ door.”
Her voice broke.
“He thought Vaughn men would enter and take Sebastian.”
“Instead.”
“They killed everyone they could find.”
Margaret looked down.
“Thomas spent the rest of his life knowing that one unlocked door helped murder a house.”
Alexander understood her loyalty to Rose.
Elias.
Isabella.
Guilt inherited through marriage.
“Did Thomas work for Raymond afterward?”
“No.”
“Charles?”
“No.”
“Victor?”
“Yes.”
“Doing what?”
“Trying to find who changed the order.”
“Raymond.”
“He knew Raymond did.”
“Then what remained?”
Margaret’s eyes hardened.
“Who told Raymond the nursery locations.”
Alexander felt cold.
Someone inside Ashcroft knew exactly where children slept.
“Another insider.”
“Yes.”
“Name?”
“Thomas never found it.”
“Was that person still alive when Isabella died?”
Margaret looked at him.
“I think so.”
“Why?”
“She came to me the day before her death.”
“What did she ask?”
“Who inherited Thomas’s keys.”
Alexander stared.
“Who did?”
Margaret looked away.
“Me.”
Silence.
“You had access.”
“Yes.”
“Did you send Isabella the bridge message?”
“No.”
“Who could use your keys?”
Margaret’s breathing changed.
Alexander saw it.
“Who?”
“My son.”
He frowned.
Margaret had one son.
Peter Shaw.
Forty-seven.
Alexander’s current head of external estate logistics.
Not chief bodyguard, but trusted.
A man who had been part of Sofia’s security rotation.
“Peter.”
“Yes.”
“Did Isabella suspect him?”
Margaret’s eyes filled.
“I don’t know.”
“Did you?”
“No.”
“Now?”
She hesitated.
Alexander felt the answer.
“I don’t know.”
“Again.”
“I truly don’t.”
Alexander stood.
“Where is Peter?”
“South grounds.”
Not anymore.
A bodyguard entered.
“Mr. Vaughn.”
“What?”
“Peter Shaw left the estate twenty minutes ago.”
Margaret went white.
“Where?”
“Unknown.”
Alexander looked at her.
She stood.
“He knows.”
“What?”
“Someone told him Elias is back.”
“How do you know?”
Margaret moved toward the window.
“Because Peter has spent thirty years waiting for a Marlowe to come through that gate.”
Alexander stared.
“Why?”
May you like
She looked at him.
“Because Raymond raised him to believe Elias murdered his father.”
