Wrexham reduced his valet to tears, and demanded that every member of staff present themselves in his study, one after the other, and interrogated each one in turn. He began with the upper staff and a procession of weeping maids and red-faced footmen exited his study over the course of the next hour. With every person who failed to give him satisfactory answers, his temper rose until Emmeline feared he’d murder someone, or one of the staff would snap and murder him.
On seeing a burly fellow who looked as if he could carry an ox on his shoulders leave the study teary-eyed, Emmeline decided enough was enough. She knocked and waited, entering the room after hearing the terse demand to, “Come in, damn you.”
He was standing in the far corner of the room with his back to her. His posture was stiff, his shoulders rigid, and her heart went out to him despite the havoc he’d caused.
“My lord,” she said placidly.
“Emmeline,” he said in surprise. “I beg your pardon. I would not have spoken so harshly had I known.”
“Really? You have turned everyone else into a quivering wreck, whether or not they deserved it. I see no reason to leave me out.”
“Because I know very well, you did not have a hand in this ghastly affair,” he said impatiently.
“And do you think everyone on the estate is in your father’s pocket?”
“No!” He raked a hand through his hair, scowling at her. “Of course not. But it’s obvious at least one person is, and I mean to discover who.”
“By setting them all against you? Did it never occur to you that this is exactly what your father had in mind?”
“He has in mind to put me in my grave but, if he can’t manage it, he’ll settle for making me believe I’m losing my damned mind.”
“I know that,” she said, going to him and slipping her hands around his waist.
He sighed and pulled her into his arms, burying his face in her hair. “I’m sorry. I told you I was a bad-tempered brute. I did not mean to prove it to you so quickly or so thoroughly.”
“Never mind that. I am not the least bit impressed by large men shouting the odds. You’re very like my father, I think and it’s all a lot of hot air. The trouble is the staff might not know it.”
“It’s hardly the first time I’ve shouted the house down,” he muttered ruefully.
“Yes, but is it the first time you’ve questioned them all about a specific incident? Is it the first time you have treated each one of them with suspicion?”
He hesitated, and Emmeline knew she was right. “My lord, you must speak to them. All of them, at once. You must apologise and—”
“Apologise!” he said, his head coming up. “Damned if I will. I’m the Marquess of bloody Wrexham, if I go around apologising every time I—”
“Behave like an ignorant arse?” she suggested.
His expression darkened further, but Emmeline pressed on.
“Wrexham, put your pride to one side, or do you intend to act like the duke?”
“Take that back!” he said, letting go of her. “You do not know, can have no understanding of what a cruel, spiteful—”
Emmeline held on to him, not about to let him divert her with his indignation. “I never said you were acting like it, but the staff might believe like father like son if you carry on like this. Those who have been loyal to you might doubt you, might become willing to take a bribe…”
“A bribe?”
“Wrexham. If your father did this, think what he has achieved. He has upset and infuriated you and set the entire house upon its ears. I should think he’s well pleased with himself, and all for the price of a three dozen pigs’ eyes, which is what Cook assures me they are. If you undermine the trust between you and your staff, you play directly into his hands.”
To his credit, he was listening, though his brow remained furrowed. “But someone betrayed me. Someone who had access to my private quarters.”
“I know, darling,” she said unsteadily, hearing the pain and frustration behind the words. “And I promise you, we will find out who did it, but that will be a great deal easier if the staff are on your side.”
There was a brief, taut silence.
“Hell and damnation!”
“I know,” she said sympathetically.