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Ralph let out a rush of air as he took the paper from her father’s hand.
Clara realized his face had gone pale. “What is it?”
He cleared his throat. “He’s the doctor who examined the late earl. It’ll be his findings.”
“Does that mean you’ve finished your investigation after all?”
Ralph shook his head. “I don’t know. It depends on what the letter says, and I’ll add in my own opinion to whatever I present to the queen. Kinross certainly isn’t going to invite me back into his home.”
Her father straightened. “Before you open it, I’d just like to say that after considering your request to court our daughter, my wife and I have decided to support your suit.”
Clara blinked wildly, the blood rushing in her veins at her father’s words. “You’ve decided…”
Her father touched her arm. “We trust you, Clara.”
Her hand came to her throat. “Really?” Suddenly, she realized she’d wanted to hear those words far more than she’d ever imagined. Tears pricked at her eyes as Ralph lightly touched the small of her back.
“Thank you, my lord,” Ralph said.
Her father gave a quick nod. “Now, if the gentlemen in the room wouldn’t mind delaying their breakfast, I propose we sojourn to my office and read the contents of that letter.”
Clara’s heart gave another jump. What might the doctor have said?
Ralph wasn’t certain he cared…
Whatever the letter said, Clara would be his.
Then again, to make her a countess… He nearly choked to think it. He followed Baron Winchester into his study, his grand grasping the letter tighter.
“What do you think it says?” Wyatt asked as Marcus came up behind them.
“The letter?”
“From the doctor,” Baron Winchester called over his shoulder. “We’re about to read it.” Then the man turned to Ralph. “Would you mind if my son joined us?”
Ralph blinked. Had the man, the baron, just asked Ralph’s permission in his own home? His throat closed. “Please do, Mister Melby.”
The four men entered the study, Baron Winchester going to the desk, where he handed Ralph a letter opener.
Slicing the seal, Ralph scanned the contents of the letter, his heart growing louder and louder as he finally sat in the nearest chair.
“What does it say?” Wyatt asked again.
He cleared his throat. “It’s Doctor Hardinger’s opinion, along with the testimony of the woman who found the earl, Missus Rathborn, that the man suffered from angina pectoris. A failure of the heart.”
“Gads,” Marcus whispered.
“The doctor also reports that at least two members of the staff saw him rubbing his arm the day before, a classic symptom of the disease.”
“So Kinross is innocent?” Wyatt asked.
Ralph shook his head. “I can’t say without doubt, but if I were being honest—” He drew in a breath, thinking of his conversation with Clara about Kinross. The man was selfish, yes…but a killer? No. “I think he’s innocent.”
Ralph had known it too. He’d wanted the man to be guilty. Not only would it have affirmed his belief that the elite were the lowliest of creatures, but in the back of his mind, he could confess that he’d assumed Kinross’s guilt would have assured his rise to earl and his ability to punish the elite from within its ranks.
How wrong he’d been.
“So what do you we do now?” Baron Winchester asked.
