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Claire rushed to say, “I asked you first because I value what you have to say.”
His eyes narrowed at her.
“You’re obviously a smart man. Look what you have gotten away with.” His chest puffed out with pride.
“I am a clever man. One must be clever to be an earl.”
“That’s true. Your kind is smarter by nature than the average gentleman.”
“Like Lord Phineas,” he sneered. “He’s a lord, but he’s not titled. Therefore, not as intelligent.”
Finn looked like a genius compared to this man. But that was because of the earl’s madness rather than because of intelligence. Goodness, she wished Finn were there. But she was glad he wasn’t. “Is there anything I can do for you, my lord? Shall I call for tea?”
He reached into the waistband of his pants and pulled out the pistol she hadn’t even noticed he had. Finn would have noticed such a thing. But she’d had no idea. “If you call for anyone, Lord Phineas will come home to find nothing more than your lifeless body draped across the floor.”
Claire nodded. “I understand.” He seemed to calm down when she talked. So, she continued. “What was she like?”
“Who?” he asked.
“The late Duchess of Robinsworth,” she clarified. She wanted to say, The woman you threw from the tower. The one you killed. But that might set him off. “What was she like?”
His lips pulled back in a feral smile. “Easy. She was easy to manipulate. Easy to lie to. I could do just about anything to her, she was that lonely, and she would preen and walk around as if I’d given her the world.”
“Why her?” Claire asked. The earl took his hand out of her hair and shoved her into a chair. He sat down across from her. Pulling back the hammer of the gun he held, he shook it at her.
“She was promised to me, until her family found out Robinsworth had more money. He was a duke. I was to be an earl. We were of comparable lineage. But he married her.” He hit his chest with his closed fist. “She was supposed to be mine.”
“You loved her?” Claire asked. He’d tossed her from the tower, but she wouldn’t bring that up. Not yet.
He snorted. It was a sound with no mirth. “She was but a thing.”
“I see,” Claire replied.
The earl suddenly jumped to his feet. “Just what do you see? You see that she was supposed to be mine? You see that Robinsworth ruined me. That he and his brother continue to ruin me.”
“I’m sorry,” she said.
But he wasn’t happy with her pity, if the look on his face was any indication. “I don’t want to talk anymore,” he snarled.
“All right.”
Claire would be quiet. She would do whatever he wanted. There was a time when she would have fought him without a thought. But now she wouldn’t. She had a life growing inside her. Someone she was responsible for. Did he know about the life she carried? She certainly wasn’t going to tell him.
Mayden crossed to the sideboard and opened the doors. “Does Lord Phineas have any whiskey in here?” he asked.
Oh, thank heavens. She could wait until he was foxed and then overtake him. But Finn’s bottle was empty. The earl cursed.
“I could call for more.”
He ground his back teeth together. “Quiet!” he barked. “You will not call for anyone.”
Claire didn’t say anything more. The earl scrubbed at his eyes with the heels of his hands. How long had it been since he’d slept? Too long, apparently.
“They think they can ruin me,” the man mumbled as he paced. “They are wrong.”
Claire didn’t reply. When would Finn be back? By now, he knew the circumstances. He knew the earl wasn’t in Bedfordshire. He was probably racing hell for leather to get back to her. Just as Robinsworth was racing toward Sophia. How could anyone know which of them Mayden would go to first?
