“Now, Belle,” Lord Bartholomew said, “it’s all come right in the end. Do release poor Burke.”
“But with your permission, Lord Bartholomew,” Lord Burke said, “that is, with Belle’s permission too of course, well what I wonder is, am I really suited to beingonlya brother to Belle? That is what I have been wondering.”
Charles could see that neither Lord nor Lady Bartholomew had the least idea of what Burke was trying to say.
“It seems that Miss Minkerton,” Daisy said, “has been afraid that Lord Burke views her as a sister.”
“I do not!” Lord Burke said. “Not ever!”
“And,” Daisy continued, “I suspect Lord Burke has been afraid that Miss Minkerton viewshimas only a brother.”
“But I do not!” Miss Minkerton cried.
“I believe,” Daisy said, “they are quite taken with each other.”
Both Miss Minkerton and Lord Burke nodded vigorously. Lord Burke said, “Belle has been the love of my life, well…as long as I’ve been old enough to think of a life. From the very moment I set eyes on her.”
“Ah,” Lady Bartholomew said, “nowI see. Well! How wonderful, do not you agree, Husband?”
“Yes, of course, couldn’t be more delighted,” Lord Bartholomew said, though he looked more befuddled than anything else.
“But you never said…” Miss Minkerton whispered, gazing up at Lord Burke.
“I say it now, Belle,” Lord Burke said.
“I say it now, too, Harry,” Belle said.
“Perhaps,” Charles said drily, “we might take this romantic wonderment indoors to await the magistrate.”
Daisy nodded. “Quite right. Two people on their way to an engagement ought not to be gazing down at a dead body.”
Charles was rather surprised by the sentiment, though he supposed it was full of good sense.
Lord Burke, seemingly convinced more than ever that Miss Minkerton should not dare put weight on her injured ankle, swept her up and strode toward the house. Daisy ran ahead of them, and Lord and Lady Bartholomew strolled back at a more sedate pace as Lady Bartholomew explained to her lord what precisely had happened.
Charles watched Burke. There went the last of his friends on his way to the altar, though not to the lady Charles thought he had in mind. He should have seen it coming, how many times had Burke spent a full hour with Miss Minkerton, examining a non-descript flower? How ridiculous Burke had been, comparing Miss Minkerton’s painting to Vernet.
He could not be sorry that he’d been mistaken about the direction Burke would take. After all, he had always been convinced Burke was not suited to Miss Danworth.
The cat suddenly appeared and wound its way round his ankles.
As everybody else had gone ahead of him and could not see it, he swept her up. “Look what you have done now, you wretched cat,” he said quietly. “You have turned yourself into a murderess.”
The cat yawned in his face, appearing entirely unconcerned over the accusation.
Chapter Fourteen
Daisy was such a whirl of emotions that she hardly knew how she felt. Farthmore was dead and that was a great relief. She ought to feel at least a little sad over the loss of a life, or frightened over seeing him lying on the rocks, or even downhearted that the Scepter of Dagobert had sailed off, but she did not. She did not feel any worse over Farthmore’s demise than she’d felt for her own father. She supposed her arduous upbringing had left her a rather hardened individual. Though, it would have been difficult to avoid the state, particularly when she’d only recently surmised that her own father had likely planned her murder to gain her inheritance.
Hardened or no, shedidrather quake when she considered what Lady Montague would make of Lieutenant Farthmore’s death—the manner in which it had happened, and that it had happened at Daisy’s own house. She had a sinking feeling that Lady Montague would never believe her lieutenant had stolen anything, nor turned up here to retrieve it. Daisy sighed. She would depend upon Lord Dalton to handle the woman, just as he’d done at the prince’s assembly.
The notion made her realize how very grateful she was that Lord Dalton had come through unscathed. Her heart had nearly stopped as she’d run across the garden. She’d heard a cry, and then a crash, and she’d known someone had fallen. She’d thought of how crumbling those stairs were and how she and Mrs. Jellops had once thought to go down them and then turned back at the third or fourth step, it being clear how easy it might be to lose one’s footing. Somebodyhadlost their footing, though she had not known who until she reached the garden gate.
What a relief it had been to see Lord Dalton standing on a step, upright and alive.
And then, she must consider that the race to the cliff’s edge had not turned outallbad. The shock of the situation had caused Lord Burke and Miss Minkerton to finally see their way clear to admitting their true feelings. They were just now in a cozy corner, no doubt exchanging all the wrong things they had believed of one another. Miss Minkerton’s parents sat together, staring at the happy couple. Lord Bartholomew still seemed dazed while Lady Bartholomew patted his hand and whispered encouragingly to him. She also fetched him a rather large glass of wine, which might have helped along the effect of her words.
When Mrs. Jellops heard the news of what had occurred on the beach, she’d fainted dead away. She’d since recovered with the help of a strong-scented vinaigrette, two generous glasses of Riesling wine, and Mrs. Phelps’ vigorous fanning. Daisy took it as a positive sign that her companion was becoming more interested in the recent engagement than she was the news of a man dead on the rocky beach. She claimed she’d always seen it coming between Miss Minkerton and Lord Burke.
