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“Oh, I was going to throttle him, all right. But Donella managed to persuade me that the man was simply an idiot and not worth my time.”
“Donella can be very persuasive,” Braden said.
Logan waggled his brows. “Verypersuasive, if you get my drift.”
“I do, and if I wasn’t a physician I would be properly revolted. Now, let’s get back to the issue at hand.”
“I have one more question,” Logan said. “Why is Lady Samantha asking you? More specifically, why does she trust you over everyone else?”
Braden shrugged. “Because I’m so trustworthy?”
“Och, have it your way, then.”
“Splendid.”
His brother studied him for several long moments and then shook his head. “Lad, this makes no damn sense, and I don’t like it when things lack sense. If you’re in trouble, you need to tell me. I mean it.”
Braden heard the worry in his brother’s voice. In light of that unpleasant confrontation with two armed thugs, Logan’s worry was reasonable. And, truthfully, if he couldn’t trust his big brother . . .
“Lady Samantha is convinced that her husband was murdered because he discovered something amiss at the foundation,” he said. “Something obviously serious enough to get him killed.”
For almost a minute, Logan didn’t say a word. Braden could practically hear him rifling through the information in his head.
“How did Lady Samantha arrive at that conclusion?” Logan finally asked.
Braden gave a brief explanation that left out the dodgy bits.
Logan shook his head. “I’ve met Lord Beath a few times. Man’s a right, old bastard, and doubly so if he shut down the investigation into Penwith’s murder.”
“Beath’s another reason Lady Samantha came to me,” Braden said. “She’s afraid that if he twigs to her digging around, he’ll remove her sister-in-law from her care.”
“Yes, Felicity Penwith. Donella’s told me about her.”
“Then you know the situation. If Beath gets any hint of scandal, he’ll punish the both of them.”
“Then perhaps Lady Samantha and her henchman might wish to leave off skulking about the stews at night. That strikes me as fairly scandalous behavior.”
Braden almost toppled out of his chair but managed to keep a straight face. “Not a clue what you’re talking about, old fellow.”
“I know I look like a big lummox, Braden, but I’m quite good at connecting seemingly unconnected bits of information.”
Braden eyed him. “You’re also very good at collecting information.”
“Yes.” Logan jabbed a finger at him. “And I do not want you stumbling into that sort of nonsense. Is that clear?”
“Absolutely. You have my word.”
Logan sighed. “Oh, God. You’re already in neck deep, aren’t you?”
Brandon tapped his chest. “More like this deep?”
“You’re obviously quite taken with the lass.”
His heart rate kicked up a notch, but he kept his tone bland. “No, though I respect her a great deal.”
“Well, that’s a load of bollocks.”
“Logan, she’s a widow,” Braden said, starting to feel exasperated. “Her husband was murdered, for God’s sake. She’s not in any mood for courting. Nor am I, for that matter.”
