He caught my wrist. Halting me moving the bedding and gave me a dark study.
I blinked at him, offering apologetically. “I should get back to my room before my maid misses me.”
Releasing me, he sat up to look at me. The bedding slipping down over his rippled abdomen. “Good Old Ginny.”
There was clear dislike in his voice.
“Why do you say her name like that?” I called him out.
“Because I don’t like her, don’t trust her, and I’m beginning to suspect she may have been part of your father’s murder.”
Murder?
He was poisoned and Bodin knows it!
But did he do it? My mind was racing. Trying to fully process what he’d said.
Ginny?
I gave him a startled look. “What are you saying?”
He sighed and slid up the back to sit up. Giving me a pensive glance. “I think he was killed, Belle.”
“Why do you think that?”
He tilted his head and gave me a chastising look. “Don’t tell me you hadn’t suspected the same thing.”
“I did.”