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“Why would Mr. Downing be calling on me today?” Anger lined her voice.
“To arrest you for the deaths of all three of your late husbands.” Thankfully, he heard the front door open.
Her mouth gaped as she realized the implication. “Oh my God, you were the one investigating me!”
He nodded sharply.
“You bastard.”
Yes, he was. “I was doing my job.” Not that those words cleared his conscience or made her hate him any less.
“By becoming my lover? That is your job?”
“If duty demands it, then yes.” He still refused to meet her blazing stare. Downing rapped on the door. “Enter.”
Downing entered the room and stopped short. “Surely, this wasn’t necessary, Raynerson.”
“It was for my safely.”
Downing laughed softly. “I see. Do you have the vial?”
“What vial?” Tessa demanded.
“The vial of arsenic Raynerson found in your bedroom two nights ago.” Downing caught the vial that Jack had tossed.
“Arsenic? I never allow that dreadful stuff in my home. That is why I have cats to kill any mice or rats.”
“Yes,” Downing remarked as he held up the vial. “Yet, here is the vial in question. I need to take you into custody now.”
Tessa finally cracked as tears flooded her face. “How could you do this, Jack? You know I had nothing to do with their deaths.”
Jack remained silent as Downing untied her hands from the post and then retied them together. Bile rose in his throat. As she passed by him, he couldn’t help but whisper to her, “Trust me.”
She turned her head away and refused to look at him again. As Downing led her away, his heart shattered. He didn’t move until he heard the constable’s carriage rumble down the street. Slow footsteps echoed down the corridor, as he stood frozen in place.
“Are you all right, sir?” Roberts asked in a soft tone.
“She will never forgive me for this, Roberts.”
“I believe you knew that before you even offered up the plan.”
“So I did,” he muttered as he rose from the chair. “I just hadn’t expected it to hurt this much.”
He forced himself to leave only because this plan was not complete yet. He waited until the allotted time before stopping in front of the Duke of Worthington’s home in Grosvenor Square. As he strode toward the door, he prayed the duke would believe his story. And more importantly, that His Grace cared enough about Tessa to do the right thing.
He banged on the door and then waited. And waited. The door opened slowly, revealing a tall, stocky butler who blocked his entrance.
“Good morning.” Jack handed him his card. “I must speak with the duke. It is of the utmost importance.”
The butler scowled but
opened the door wider to allow him entrance. “Come into the parlor. I shall see if His Grace is at home.”
“Please tell him this is in regards to Lady Stanhope.”
“Yes, sir.” The butler ambled off in no apparent rush to convey his message.
Jack paced the small receiving room, wishing he could drown himself in alcohol. What was taking the duke so long? If they didn’t time this right, she might be in Newgate before they left this house.
