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“How romantic,” she replied dryly, “but I won’t be one until the end of the month.”
He eyed the clock above Kitty’s fireplace, a rather silly but tempting idea forming in his mind. “Not necessarily. Everyone of importance is here, after all.”
She looked at him in momentary confusion before a wide grin spread across her face. “You are quite mad, aren’t you?”
**
“You are going to do what now?”
Kitty fidgeted under her father’s confused but piercing stare and clutched Sebastian’s hand tighter. “We are going to have the wedding tomorrow.”
“Ashford’s idea, I suppose?” Mr. Barrow said with dry amusement.
“Can’t wait another day, can you?” Lord Amberwood called playfully before wincing as Sophie smacked his arm with an exasperated glare.
Her papa looked between her and Sebastian, his throat working as he contemplated them. He spoke after a moment. “You don’t think she is safe here, do you?”
“That is correct,” Sebastian replied.
“And I agree with him, Papa.” They’d discussed the prospect before coming downstairs. Kitty would be safer as Sebastian’s duchess, as even a hardened criminal would balk at doing injury to such a high-ranking peer. It was quite possible that the attempt on her life had been to stop her marriage, a rather cold thought, but something she had to consider. Waiting any longer might prove to be a costly mistake. She was also, of course, quite eager for the wedding now that her and Sebastian were on more solid footing and had worked out the misunderstanding, not that she would tell her father that.
“You should consider it, Charles,” Mary said softly from her place beside him. Kitty looked at the two, wondering about their relationship. The thought that they had continued to carry on their affair under her nose was discomfiting, but those were questions for later. Once things were more settled, Kitty would have a proper conversation with her real mother, as jarring as it still was to think of her lifelong servant as such.
“Mr. Barrow,” Mary said as she gently grasped Lord Highbridge’s arm. “Why don’t you tell everyone what you told me, about how you discovered the secret.”
“I would also like to know the particulars, Barrow.” Sebastian said. He looked to her for a moment. “He told me the information but not how he acquired it.”
“I see.” Kitty was rather amazed that Sebastian had put such stock in Barrow’s words without seeing the evidence. It spoke volumes for their friendship.
Barrow stood from his chair. “Alright, then. As long as no one minds me airing this out in front of everyone.”
“Everyone here has heard the long and short of it,” her father said impatiently. “Might as well lay everything out, even if I am not too keen on a Berrington gaining knowledge of this mess.”
“A Featherston,” Amberwood bit back, his eyes narrowing in displeasure.
Sophie put a staying hand on his thigh. “It’s alright.”
“Apologies, Lady Amberwood,” the baron said dismissively. Kitty fought the urge to bop him over the head, as she often did when Sophie came up during conversation.
“As I was saying,” Barrow interrupted, prudently cutting of any potential scuffle. “After Ashford told me about the scheme and requested my aid, I immediately went to work tracking down the errand boy that had delivered the notes. Those fellows have notoriously loose lips under the right circumstances. When I finally managed to find him, all it took was some pastries and an offer of employment before he spilled everything.”
“That was rather sporting of you, Barrow,” Amberwood said.
The club owner shrugged. “I was in need of another stable boy for the patrons’ horses.”
“Yes, yes. We know you are a ruffian with a heart of gold, but do get on with it,” Sebastian intoned with an impatient sigh.
“The boy gave me a letter,” Barrow replied. “Said he had instructions to deliver it to Miss Highbridge. I assume it was meant to provide proof that the blackmailer wasn’t bluffing about the information he held.”
“A letter?” Kitty asked in confusion. “What was in it?”
“It was one of mine,” Mary chimed in. “An old one from Charles that I had kept. It had been sent after the baroness’ death, detailing the congruent passing of her child and inquiring about the health of our own.”
“I sent them every week from the moment we were parted,” her father said gruffly, as if expecting reproach.
“It wasn’t hard for me to piece things together from information in the letter,” Barrow said before adding grimly, “and then, I told the story to Ashford.”
“How did they acquire something so personal?” Kitty mused aloud. “I assume it would have been tucked away in Mary’s belongings. Someone would have needed access to the house and to Mary’s room.”
