AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“I will go with you,” Lord Dunsmore added. “To provide you with an alibi.”
“If it’s not the Duke of Tiverwell, then who could it be?” Charles asked, giving voice to his concerns. He and Lord Dunsmore had been discussing it, the last time they’d spoken. They’d come up with no possible leads.
Lord Dunsmore shrugged. “I’m at a loss here,” he said. “I was so sure that it would be Mr. Bones.”
“Who is Mr. Bones?” Alistair asked, curiously.
“The Duke of Tiverwell’s alias,” Lord Dunsmore said. “Although, I would keep that to yourself, sir.” Alistair nodded.
“But?” Charles asked Lord Dunsmore, trying to get him to focus. The detective was highly intelligent, but easily distractible.
“The goods were delivered to my home, and my footman was left unharmed. I certainly have not been followed. I even went for a walk by the Thames at one of the clock in the morning.”
Charles sighed. He had hoped, by this time, that they would have had some sort of an answer. Unfortunately, they had hit a very dead end, when it appeared that Constable Mills was seriously considering him as the main suspect.
* * *
Arabella remained in the parlor with her mother and the two ladies, as was expected. Lady Linton and Lady Emily stayed to luncheon. Arabella could hardly eat. She could hardly speak. Her mother coaxed her into drinking a glass of brandy, then eating an egg and some toast.
Lady Linton and Lady Emily talked throughout their entire stay, of balls and dresses. Arabella’s head spun. Once the two ladies had left, she sat for a moment, relieved to have a moment’s peace.
“Well,” her mother said. “I suppose you have nothing to worry about now.”
“On the contrary, Mother. I feel that I have everything to worry about. I feel almost as though I’ve wished this upon him.” She felt wretched. It was not the escape that she’d hoped for. This was rather worse.
The door opened, and her father peered in. “I presume you’ve heard the news,” he said. His face was grim. His hair was mussed, his clothes in disorder. In his hand, he held a glass of brandy.
“Yes,” the Duchess said, speaking for both of them. Arabella’s eyes were on his free hand, which he was making a fist, and then releasing it.
“I had truly thought him my son-in-law already,” he said. “He was…”
“Not the gentleman that we thought him to be,” Arabella stated flatly, her tongue loosened by her earlier drink. She was angry at her father, most of all. “You wanted to have me marry a gentleman who frequents brothels? Do you not know of the disease that he would have brought into our marriage bed?”
Her father blinked. She had never seen her father speechless before, but in the wake of her anger, he merely stared back at her.
“How dare you?” she growled. “You threatened Mr. Conolly to me, to force me to marry the Duke. You put me in an impossible situation.” Tears were spilling down her cheeks.
She didn’t know what she expected from him. Certainly, it was not this silent man, who seemed neither ready to apologize, nor upset. He stared back at her, then looked away.
“Do I really mean nothing to you?” she hissed.
Arabella stood up and left the room. She went to her bedroom, where she began to write a letter to Charles. She paused, her quill poised above the paper. Her hand shook, and ink dripped from the point, dotting the page.
What to say? What did she even want? Her first thought was to demand that he run away with her. It would solve everything. But it would be wrong. He would never agree to it.
A warm tear slipped down her cheek. She wiped it away, then looked down at the letter.Dear Charles, it read.I fear that I must warn you that—She crumpled it up. Now that there was no longer a Duke of Longmire to return and propose a second time, Charles was no longer in any danger.
She knew that he had gotten her last letter. But she had never received a response. Even that rattled her.
Perhaps, it was intercepted. Or, he didn’t respond.
Arabella was still in love with him, though. There was still nothing that she could do about it. How things stood were awful. She couldn’t help but think about Lord Drysdale. He had been a potential suitor for her, at one point. To have a second, dead—she had a feeling that the gossipmongers would get wind of it.
Again, she had never wished either of them dead. She had merely been in love with another. She knew that the constables wanted to blame Charles for it. She could only hope that he was keeping himself safe from their blame.
* * *
Charles canceled his appointments for the day. He and Lord Dunsmore sat in his office, drinking the good brandy. Charles felt very warm, as though he were wrapped in something pleasant.
