“But…” Sir James seemed like a child about to throw a tantrum. “I have an idea,” he almost shouted.
“Yes?” Edith sounded sweet and innocent.
“Well.” Sir James patted his forehead with his handkerchief. “I’m sure Lord Ravenscroft is perfectly fine, and a medical examination is a long and complicated affair with dozens of forms to fill out and signatures. Perhaps I could forgo the examination and simply write the final medical report so as not to trouble you any further. You’ve been troubled enough.”
“That would be lovely,” Edith said. “In exchange for your kindness, I’m sure Perry will be more than happy to give you the painting as a gift.”
More than happy was an exaggeration. “Absolutely.” Perry gave a curt nod.
Sir James brightened. “It’s decided then.” He stretched out his arm to shake Perry’s hand. “Lord Ravenscroft, no one is going to touch your title. Ever.”
“And no one aside from you is going to look at my bride-to-be painting.”
Sir James bowed. “I give you my word.”
Sir James’sreport was written, filed, and archived in a matter of days.
With his title secured, Perry had to deal with one last annoying detail before he could focus on what mattered the most—his engagement with Edith.
He checked his pocket watch, pacing in his study. “They should be here already.”
“Perhaps Neville had a change of heart,” Edith said, reading one of her anatomy books.
“One needs to have a heart to change it.”
“He could drag you to court,” Oliver said.
Perry shook his head. “Lochard gathered enough evidence to push him to a tight corner.”
“My lord.” Mason bowed from the door. “Lord Neville, Miss Ferguson, and Mr. Simmons are here.”
“Excellent.” Perry stood behind the desk between Edith and Oliver, ready for a battle.
Despite his confidence, uneasiness chilled him when Uncle Neville, Miss Ferguson, and Simmons entered the study. Uncle Neville’s face was a mask of wrath, and Miss Ferguson was so pale she seemed aged ten years.
The solicitor was the first to bow and speak. “My Lord, Miss Winkworth, Mr. York.” He made a point to remind everyone that Oliver’s licence hadn’t been reinstated yet.
“Thank you for being here.” Perry stretched out an arm towards the chairs in front of him. “Not that you had a choice. Let’s begin. I have more pressing matters to attend to.”
Uncle Neville scoffed, sitting down. “So have I. I have previous engagements and responsibilities.” He glared at Edith. “Unlike others, I keep my word.”
Oliver laughed before coughing into his fist. “Apologies. I’m allergic to lies.”
“Leave Edith out of this,” Perry said.
“Shall we begin?” Simmons didn’t seem disturbed by the thick atmosphere. He selected a few documents from his leather bag and spread them on the desk. “Mr. Lochard deposited the evidence he’d found against my clients to the police. Mr. Clarke, the stable hand who worked for Sir James, confessed he’d received the sum of five hundred pounds from Lord Neville.”
“Cheapskate,” Oliver muttered.
Simmons glowered at him. “Mr. Clarke received the money to tamper with His Lordship’s carriage in the attempt to cause serious bodily harm and prevent His Lordship from keeping his title. Mr. Clarke also disclosed the involvement of Miss Ferguson as, quote, ‘Lord Neville’s accomplice.’”
“Shame on you,” Edith said.
Miss Ferguson had the decency to lower her gaze.
“Please.” Simmons frowned. “If you keep interrupting me with your comments, this affair isn’t going to be quick at all.” He waited for the silence to return. “Mr. Lochard also provided witnesses to a meeting among Mr. Clarke, Lord Neville, and Miss Ferguson, in which they discussed the details of the tampering, and these are facts. Now, with that established, my clients propose a deal convenient for everyone.”
“I doubt that,” Perry said.
