Page 10 of Make Mine a Marquess

“Yes, Mother.”

“Are you listening to a word I’ve said? We are first to see him. And you were one of the first to speak with him and partner him in lawn bowls. I’m pleased your betrothed gave his consent.”

That got Phoebe’s attention. “You are?”

“A voucher for Almack’s may be in your future. Everything is working as planned, my dear. Just as planned.”

Phoebe was not so easily convinced.

Chapter Three

“The evidence must be in this manor,” Landon said.

“Now that you’re back, you will find what you seek,” Aram said.

Landon paused to give Aram a sidelong glance. “Finding evidence of Willard’s murderous plans isn’t enough. He must be destroyed.”

“Absolutely.”

Landon lifted the lid of one his trunks the footmen had delivered. Aram helped him shake out coats and hang them in the wardrobe. Neither needed to perform the task. Servants were abundant in the country home.

His servants.

He paid the salary for every single one of them. A snap of his fingers and a valet would see to his clothes, a groomsman to his horse, a footman to any other needs.

But Landon wanted solitude. And the consult of his friend.

“I’m starting with the household ledgers and then I’ll meet with the stewards. I’m certain my extravagant cousin has spent a good amount of the marquessate’s coin at the expense of my tenants. There may be a clue in the ledgers. He could not have arranged the ship’s sinking alone. He must have had an accomplice and if I’m lucky, he may have kept paying him.”

“It might be more than one accomplice to arrange for the sinking of your ship,” Aram pointed out. “It was no simple task to cause such devastation.”

The fire had started below decks, the captain conveniently unavailable after eating bad meat and falling ill. The first mate had been inebriated and just as unavailable. The fire had quickly spread. The combustible goods in the hold—tobacco, furniture, and barrels of whisky–had been consumed within minutes. Sparks had flown to the upper decks and before they could have contained it, even the mast had been consumed in flames.

Sailors had formed a bucket brigade to carry water, but it was too late. They’d been forced to jump overboard into the sea. Many had either died from the fire or drowned.

Aram closed the lid of the trunk. “A man like Willard will not stop.”

“No. He won’t.” Landon’s jaw hardened as he tossed a coat onto the bed. “I suspect he will attempt to finish the deed.” Willard still wanted him dead. Even more so now that his cousin had grown accustomed to managing the estate and spending its money. He would be loath to give up his lavish living. And if there was a body—his body—then Willard would inherit the title as well as the money. It would be the ultimate prize.

“Willard must be furious that his first attempt failed,” Aram said.

Landon’s voice was quiet yet had an undertone of cold contempt. “We cannot go to the authorities with suspicions. I need proof.”

“We will find it.”

Landon sat in an armchair and rubbed his chin with a thumb and forefinger. “Once I have a name of an accomplice, I can extract anything I need from the man.”

“Bribery?”

“My first course of action,” Landon said.

“Torture?” Aram’s black eyes met his. “You are not that type of man.”

Landon stood, his mouth grim. “You do not know what I am capable of.”

His friend’s response was a slight arch of one dark eyebrow. “And what about the lady, Miss Dawson? What does she have to do with all of this?”

A vision of blond hair and blue eyes flashed in his mind. She had lush curves, and when his legs had brushed her skirts, he’d noticed the harsh intake of her breath, the rise and fall of her breasts. It had been a delicious distraction.