His slow grin reminded her that he saw her far more clearly than any other ever had. “I love you, too.”
She blushed and fell into his eyes again.
Reading her expression—open and direct as it always was—Alaric felt as if his heart had taken flight. He bent his head and brushed her lips with his. When, reluctantly, he raised his head, he couldn’t miss the stars in her eyes.
He wondered what his looked like.
He tightened his arms around her for a second, then they drew apart and looked to where Percy stood over Edward.
Edward was unconscious, sprawled on the ground. Percy still held the log in his hands, hefting it as if considering…
Alaric stiffened. “Percy?”
Gently, Constance said, “You don’t need to hit him again.”
Percy’s gaze was locked on the back of Edward’s head; his expression was tortured and torn. “He killed Glynis.” The words were condemnation and sentence.
“Yes. But you don’t need to descend to his level.” Alaric glanced toward the path to see Stokes and company approaching. “You can leave retribution to the law and Scotland Yard.”
Still, Percy stared down at Edward and gripped the log, his hands shifting as he adjusted his hold.
“And one murderer in a family is enough,” Constance said.
That seemed to penetrate Percy’s emotion-driven brain. He blinked and eased back. Then he glanced at Stokes, who, with Barnaby and Penelope, was nearing. Percy lowered the log, then opened his hands and let it fall to the ground. He stepped away from the now-groaning Edward. “You’re right.” He glanced contemptuously down at Edward. “As it is, my uncle and aunt will never live this down.”
Stokes halted beside Alaric, and Constance asked, “How did you get here so soon?”
“We never left,” Penelope said as she and Barnaby joined them. “Stokes and Barnaby wanted to hear the maid’s evidence for themselves, and I wanted to hear the footman’s testimony. We’d only just started for the stable when Mr. Radleigh raced up. We followed the trail as quickly as we could, then we caught up with the other gentlemen, and they explained Alaric’s instructions, so we fell in with them.” She waved at the four gentlemen who were stepping into the clearing from various directions. “When we got here, Edward already had his pistol out. We could see Percy sneaking up, and we didn’t want to push Edward into seizing a hostage, so we hung back.”
“Thank God you did.” Alaric looked at Stokes. “Edward Mandeville isn’t all that good at planning or even thinking things through, but as he himself said, he’s proved surprisingly adept at improvising. God alone knows what might have happened had you shown yourselves.”
Stokes clapped Alaric on the shoulder. “You seemed to have everything in hand.”
“Although,” Penelope said, head tipping consideringly to one side, “for my money, you cut things a little too fine.”
Constance snorted.
Alaric waved at Edward, who was starting to regain consciousness. “Did you hear?”
His expression grimly satisfied, Stokes nodded. “More than enough.” He glanced at the other men who, led by Monty, had gathered around Percy, some with words and others wordlessly offering support. “And if required, we have witnesses galore.”
Barnaby shifted. “To tell the truth, despite the drama—which we would all rather have done without—this has worked out for the best. There simply wasn’t and never would have been enough evidence to bring Edward to book for the murders. Everything we could gather was circumstantial. He had to do or say something—only through his own words or actions could we hope to convict him.” Barnaby’s smile wasn’t humorous. “And now we will.”
Stokes walked forward, bent, and retrieved the spent pistol. He showed it to Percy. “Is this his, or did he filch it from the Hall?”
Percy peered at the pistol, then shook his head. “It’s not one of mine.”
Stokes’s grin was lethal. “Even better.” He looked around. “Philpott? Morgan?”
“Here, sir.” The two constables came jogging up.
Stokes tipped his head at Edward, who was slowly dragging himself up to sit, one hand held to the back of his head. “Put the shackles on him and take him away. The Tabard will most likely have a cellar you can lock him in. Make sure he hasn’t anything he might use to do himself in.”
“Yes, sir!” Philpott, assisted by Morgan, quickly had Edward up on his feet, his wrists locked before him in heavy cuffs.
Stokes, with Barnaby and Penelope flanking him, told Edward what would be done with him.
Sullen, Edward made no reply, but he was still weaving on his feet.
