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“Your grandmother is waiting for you in the family salon,” the butler said quietly. “If you wish to leave, I shall tell her it was just a caller at the door.”
“You will do no such thing!” a shrill voice called from the first floor steps. “Get up here, young man.”
Jack shook his head as he handed his coat and hat to a footman. “How long has she been here?”
“Since four. She ate dinner here and has been pacing the room ever since.”
“Thank you.” Jack walked up the steps slowly, knowing he was about to be brought to task for what he’d done.
“What part did you have in this?” she asked before he’d entered the room.
“What do you think?” he retorted as he sat down on the green velvet chair. “It was all me.”
She gasped and covered her mouth with her hand. “Oh my dear boy, what have you done? She shall hate you forever now.”
“I know that,” he replied in a bitter tone. The idea of Tessa sleeping in a cold prison cell tonight was eating him from the inside. He wanted to go to Newgate and watch over her.
“Why?” she whispered.
“To draw a confession out of the duke,” Jack said in a low voice so the servants would not hear them.
“Worthington?” She rose slowly and waved him back into his seat as he sought to stand. “I cannot believe he would do such a thing.” Pacing the room, she tapped her finger against her lip. “Why would he do such a thing? It makes no good sense.”
“I can only assume jealousy.” He explained what Miss Harte had said to him yesterday.
“Worthington wanted to kill you!” She stopped her pacing and stared at him. “That would never do. I would have to kill him if he attempted such a thing.”
He smiled at her conviction. “But what I don’t understand is why didn’t he just court her after Langley died?”
His grandmother returned to her seat with a frown and then shrugged. “She was a banker’s daughter before marrying a baron. Even as a widow, she was only a baroness. It’s a high climb to duchess.”
Jack recounted the numerous conversations he’d had with Tessa about her husbands and how the duke had recommended them to her. She had told him that the duke had dissuaded her from Lord Comstock after Dereham. But everything he had ever heard in regards to Comstock was that he was a kind and very wealthy viscount. “A viscount.”
“Excuse me?”
He told her about the conversation in the garden during Emma’s come out ball. “Comstock was only a viscount. The duke needed her to marry an earl.”
His grandmother’s white brows rose. “That would make sense. And Comstock is only in his early thirties. His death would be extremely suspicious compared to a man in his fifties” She shook her head slowly. “I still cannot believe Worthington would do it. The worst that might have happened if he married her after Durham was a little talk. Nothing the duke could not handle.”
“In theory, he didn’t do the actual killings. Perhaps by giving the powder to Miss Harte, he felt it assuaged his conscience. And if that is the case, he will most likely never confess.” Bloody hell, why hadn’t he thought of that last night before implementing this disastrous plan.
“What now, then?”
“I will speak with Fairchild in the morning. He said he would speak with the justice and explain the situation personally. We can get Anne to speak with the magistrate if needed. Then Tessa will be freed.”
“And then what?” she asked softly.
“I will depart for Devon and await the birth of my nephew,” he replied, knowing there would be no point in staying here. Tessa would never want to see him again. “Would you like to drive with me?”
She waved a hand at him in dismissal. “You go ahead. I believe I will leave in a couple of days. I have some business to attend to in town first.”
“As you wish.”
~*~
Try as he might, sleep would not come. As the pink rays of dawn streaked across the sky, he rose and dressed for the day. Before he reached the top step, a footman raced up the stairs. “Good morning, Finn. Is something amiss?”
“Yes, sir. A Mr. Downing is here to see you, said it was extremely important.”
