Free The Elusive Heiress by Gail Mallin

one evening she fell into deep water and drowned.’
    ‘Rubbish,’ snapped Kate, recovering her composure. Fell indeed! What would they say if she told them what really happened, that Kitty had been knocked on the head and pushed into the river! ‘My uncle is lying. He is heavily in debt and wants to grab what he can of the Nixon fortune.’
    ‘And you don’t?’
    Kate ignored his lordship’s smooth interruption. ‘Let me ask you this, Mr Hilton, what proof does my uncle offer? Can he name you witnesses to this tragedy?’
    The lawyer shook his head.
    ‘No, I thought not.’ Kate’s lip curled. ‘And what of the body? Has he produced it for inspection?’
    Mr Hilton consulted his papers. ‘He says that Miss Nixon’s mortal remains have not been recovered as of yet.’
    ‘I see.’ Kate let out a scornful laugh. ‘No witnesses and no body. How very convenient!’
    ‘You present a clever case, ma’am.’
    Kate flicked at wary glance at his lordship.
    ‘There is no question that Sullivan would benefit from my cousin’s death,’ Randal continued in the same cool tones. ‘However, although he is a greedy man, he is not a fool and I hardly think he would claim that Kitty was dead unless he had reason to believe it true.’
    ‘I agree, my lord,’ Mr Hilton chimed in. ‘To attempt such a deception would be fruitless. The instant Miss Nixon reappeared he would be exposed as a liar and his reputation damaged beyond repair.’
    Kate bit down hard on her tongue. She longed to shout out that the Sullivans had never intended Kitty to be seen again. They had plotted murder!
    ‘It may be that he does think me dead.’ Kate decided it could do no harm to concede this point. ‘I did leave in extreme haste without furnishing any explanation.’
    ‘But why should you act in such a rash manner, my dear young lady?’ exclaimed Mr Hilton in a shocked voice.
    Kate began to explain how matters had stood. ‘In the end, sir, I began to feel so very uncomfortable at Ballyhad House that I simply had to get away.’
    Randal eyed her pure profile thoughtfully.
    She didn’t sound as if she was lying. In fact, he would have sworn to her sincerity. And yet…
    ‘You spoke of Gerald having no proof. Can you offer us any proof, ma’am, that you are the person you claim to be?’ he asked as soon as Kate finished speaking.
    Although she had been expecting this question, Kate’s pulse still gave a little flicker of alarm.
    ‘Of course,’ she responded coolly, inwardly grateful for the years of training which enabled her to keep her voice level and her hands perfectly steady as she opened the knitted silk reticule she had brought with her.
    Withdrawing a slightly crumpled letter she lent forward and laid it on the desk in front of Mr Hilton. ‘This is for you, sir, from my Mama. You may compare the handwriting to her earlier missives if you wish.’
    Mr Hilton picked it up rather gingerly and breaking open the wafer perused it carefully before handing it over to Randal.
    ‘The content tells us nothing.’ A small frown creased Lord Redesmere’s dark brows. ‘However, the hand does appear to be that of Mrs Nixon.’
    ‘Mrs Ashe, if you please,’ Kate reminded him crisply, relief welling up in her.
    Thank heavens Kitty had been right! She had promised them that her handwriting was virtually identical to her mother’s when she had offered to make a fresh copy of Lydia’s letter for Kate to use.
    ‘Mama insisted on writing a formal letter of introduction. She didn’t want anyone to think us backward in the proper civilities. I can remember exactly what it said for I helped her to compose it,’ Kitty had told them earnestly.
    The original letter, which Kitty had taken to keeping on her person after finding evidence that the Sullivans were prying into her belongings, had been stowed in the pocket of her cloak, but it had not survived their mutual immersion in the river. The ink had run adding to the water stains and everyone