‘So how the deuce do you plan to do that?’ Reverend Shackleford spoke for the first time, thinking it past time they got to the heart of the matter. He’d been waiting since the early hours to discover what the Earl’s plan was. Truth be told, life had been a little boring since the shenanigans in Dartmouth, and he found himself unexpectedly eager to do a bit of investigating. And if it saw his daughter wed at the end of it? Well, all the better.
‘I need to track down Witherspoon,’ the Earl answered. ‘If the varmint is still alive.’
‘Why should I believe it was Witherspoon who killed Barnet and hit you over the head?’ Nicholas questioned. ‘From your account, you didn’t actuallyseeyour assailant. The only witnesses were Witherspoon and Fletcher. And they both told the same story.’
‘The same pack of lies, you mean,’ Christian bit out, running his hand through his hair in frustration. ‘Witherspoon planted that bracelet on me to conceal the fact that he was the thief. Ask yourself why I would be so stupid as to put the bloody thing in my pocket?’
‘Barnet interrupted you,’ Nicholas reasoned. ‘Mayhap you didn’t have time to hide it.’
‘I’ve told you that Barnet was dead when I came upon him. As I bent down to check his pulse, there was someone behind the door. That someone was Witherspoon.’
‘We found nothing on him to suggest he’d pilfered anything,’ countered Nicholas, watching the Earl carefully.
‘That’s because the bastard swallowed it,’ Christian ground out. He turned towards Grace and Chastity. ‘My apologies, ladies,’ he offered tightly before giving a sigh. ‘I have given this much thought. It had to have been a gem. Small enough to swallow, but easily recoverable after my demise.’ He grimaced in distaste. ‘Once I was dead, he was home free. It didn’t matter whether by hanging or drowning.’
‘If you’re right, then surely he would have sold the gem once back in England.’ Chastity blurted, unable to sit silent any longer. Ignoring her brother-in-law’s irritated glare, she hurried on. ‘There may be a record if he used a reputable jeweller.’
‘My thoughts exactly,’ the Earl responded with a slight hint of a smile. ‘I have already located a jeweller who was sold a very fine ruby in February 1799. The seller was apparently a military man who claimed the gem was a gift.’ He turned back to the Duke. ‘Tell me this, your grace. Did Witherspoon sustain an injury after my abrupt departure?’
Nicholas frowned as he thought back. Finally, he nodded. ‘He caught the end of a heaving line. Themonkey’s fisthit his face as I recall.’
‘I remember it,’ added Malcolm. ‘It was shortly before we docked in Portsmouth. Surgeon thought he was going to lose an eye. It…’
‘…sliced through his eyebrow,’ Christian finished triumphantly. ‘The jeweller told me that the man who sold him the ruby had a nasty scar above his right eye. One that hadn’t been done long. When did you dock?’
‘It was the middle of January,’ the Duke answered decisively. ‘I went from thePhoenixto my first command.’
There was a silence as everyone in the room digested the Earl of Cottesmore’s account.
At length, Nicholas shook his head and gave a weary sigh. ‘Would you do the honours, Malcolm?’ he said, holding up his empty brandy glass. As the valet refilled the four glasses, the Duke stared at nothing, clearly deep in thought. His face was troubled, and Grace struggled against a sudden urge to go over and kiss his cares away.
Nobody spoke. Any judgement had to come from Nicholas as the assumed head of the family. The only sound came from Freddy snoring by the fire.
Chastity stole a look at the Earl. He was watching the Duke of Blackmore, his face carefully blank. His expression implied he didn’t care what the Duke’s verdict was, but tension radiated from his body, and she could see his empty hand curling into a fist as it lay on his lap.
She thought back to the little girl she’d met last night. If the Earl of Cottesmore agreed to wed her, she would become a stepmother. The thought was disquieting given that her experience of stepmothers was limited to her own. While Agnes had no malice in her, she spent most of her time either on the chaise longue or in bed. She’d never been particularly interested in any of her husband’s offspring aside from Anthony. And she only had time for him at three o’clock on a Friday over tea and crumpets.
But then in her stepmother’s defence, the Shackleford brood had been enough to drive even the stoutest soul to their bed with a stiff sherry…
Her thoughts came to an abrupt halt as Nicholas slowly got to his feet. Heart in her mouth, she watched as he walked round the desk to stand in front of the Earl. In answer, Christian Stanhope rose out of his chair. ‘It seems I owe you an apology, Lord Cottesmore,’ the Duke said after a second, his voice husky with suppressed emotion. He inclined his head. ‘It’s my hope that you’ll accept my assistance in clearing your name, but whether we are able to locate Wetherspoon or not, I will make it clear to my friends and acquaintances that you have both my support and my backing. And whatever they decide, I should be honoured to do business with you.’
Chastity saw the moment the tension left the Earl of Cottesmore’s body. A lump came into her throat, and for a second, she thought she might cry.
‘You have my thanks,’ Christian responded, his own voice equally rough. He held out his hand, and Nicholas gripped it without hesitation. ‘I may be wrong, your grace’ the Earl continued ruefully after a second, ‘but it’s my belief we have something more to discuss?’
‘Nicholas,’ the Duke amended, ‘or even better, Nick, as you used to. I have not changed my opinion of the snobberies of polite society. And you are quite correct, we do have something to discuss. However, at this stage, I believe it is best done in private … Kit.’ The two men grinned at each other, in perfect accord for the first time in seventeen years.
‘Well, given that your discussion is likely to concern the latest of my daughters to tie her deuced garter in public, with your permission, I’d like to remain.’ Chastity’s face flamed at her father’s blunt words as the Duke turned to the Reverend with a rueful chuckle. ‘It seems we’ve been here before, Augustus,’ he countered drily. ‘Indeed, by now we should be experts.’
Christian Stanhope turned towards Chastity. He didn’t speak, but simply smiled at her in reassurance, but rather than comforting her, it had the opposite effect. His smile was devastating, and her heart began pumping wildly. Dear God, how would she ever be able to share a life with this man without losing her heart? Her girlish ideas of love finally vanished completely to be replaced by a longing so profound, it almost brought her to her knees.
And as she stared back at his starkly beautiful face, Chastity realised she was in terrible trouble.
Chapter Thirteen
Jimmy Fowler didn’t know quite what to make of Lizzy Fletcher. He’d had misgivings about allowing her to share the Duke of Blackmore’s carriage but knew Nicholas Sinclair would have done the same thing. But then he was at liberty to do so. It was his carriage.
Jimmy came from a different world. One where you gave nothing away lest it come back to bite you in the arse. The Duke’s partiality for charitable actions had taken a long time for Jimmy to understand.
