The coach began to make a turn on the road, far too slowly for his liking. Darius flung himself at Felix, grabbing his waistcoat and pulling so their faces were but inches apart.
“Darius, steady on,” Vincent began, but Darius ignored him.
“You will tell me everything, and you’d better pray nothing happens to my future wife.”
Lionel put a hand on Darius’s arm. “Before you blacken Felix’s other eye, give him a minute to explain.” His friend’s calming influence only just reached him through his haze of emotion. “You know full well that none of us would put Meredith in any real danger.”
Lionel was right. The man had taken a beating for Meredith, quite a bad one, and he still looked the worse for wear.
Darius released Felix and forced himself to clear his head. He trusted the men in this coach with his life, and now he was trusting them with Meredith’s.
“Very well. Explain.”
Felix described Meredith’s scheme to catch Crell, and Warren’s foolish role in it all. Terror gripped Darius’s heart at the thought of her waiting in the gardens to meet a murderer. He hadn’t forgotten the way she’d looked when she’d first told him about the scream she’d heard, or when told him later she believed it had come from Mrs. Crell.
Why hadn’t she come to him? Why hadn’t she trusted that he hadn’t given up in his pursuit of Crell? But then, he hadn’t told her that he’d gone underground with his investigation.
“You knew all this?” Darius snapped at Lionel. “Who else knew?”
“Not me,” Kit said, scowling at the others.
Felix sagged. “Because you’re married, Kit. Warren knew you wouldn’t hide this from Darius because you think of Meredith’s safety just as you would Suzannah’s.”
“He’s damned right I would.” Kit’s face was full of storms. “I’m sorry, Darius. I would have stopped this nonsense had I known.”
Darius glared at Lionel, Felix and Vincent. “You three just agreed to help them?”
Lionel matched Darius in his displeasure. “I did not agree. I only learned of the matter before we departed. I was debating whether to tell you when we reached Felix’s country house.”
“I have no doubt regarding Meredith’s safety,” Vincent replied honestly. “Warren will be there, along with Mr. Doyle. Crell would have to be a fool to act against her once they announce themselves.”
A fool… or desperate, Darius thought. He knew how easily everything could go wrong. And a man could snap Meredith’s pretty neck in an instant before help could arrive. But as he tried to calm down, he realized there was blame to lay at his own feet.
“I should have been honest with her about what I was doing,” Darius said as he stared bleakly at his friends. “She must have thought I’d given up trying to catch Crell, and that I was focused solely on our wedding. I fear that might be what motivated her to act.”
“You didn’t tell her about the inquiries I have been making into Crell’s finances?” Lionel asked.
Darius shook his head. “I was planning to, once we had something worth sharing.”
This surprised Lionel. “I had thought that was the reason she decided to act, since it would have given leverage to get a confession.”
“You mean you’ve found something?” asked Darius.
“I have. I had planned to tell you what I’d learned at Felix’s estate. I managed to find the barrister who handled Minerva Crell’s affairs. You were right in suspecting that she’d had the control of the money, and that most of it was still tied up in a trust that her husband had very little access to. At the time they married, there was a miscommunication between the couple. Crell believed he would be given control, when rather his wife’s money was neatly tied up and protected by an outside trustee.”
Lionel paused a moment. “This created some strain between them over the years, at least from what the barrister could tell during his infrequent visits with Minerva. Then, in the last few months, money requests started to increase from Minerva. So I looked into where the money was ending up. I spoke with all of the fashionable tailors, the best jewelers and dressmakers.”
“Well, don’t leave us in suspense,” Felix replied.
Lionel cleared his throat and continued. “Crell was spending lavishly, and I don’t think any of it had to do with his wife. There were dinners in hotels, jewels being purchased in large quantities, and he’d completely redone his wardrobe in the last month and there were custom dress fitting bills, box seats at the theater. But as I understand it, Minerva could barely leave the house and hadn’t attended any dinners, nor the theater.”
“He was spending time out with his mistress,” Vincent surmised. “That would certainly cause a vast increase in his expenditures.”
Darius digested the information. It was all valuable information, but didn’t prove much, though it seemed quite obvious as to what must have happened. Minerva learned what her husband was doing and likely confronted him about it. The only way for him to keep access to her money was if the mistress took his wife’s place. Thus the move outside of London, where all future contact with the barrister would be handled by letters and forged signatures would enable him to keep drawing on her accounts. But Minerva would have known and therefore she would have to have been killed.
But a man could not be convicted of murder on common sense guesswork.
With his questions answered, Darius fell into an anxious silence for the next several hours it took to return to London. He could only pray they wouldn’t be too late.
