Oliver’s blood stopped. Blackhurst had beaten Lisbeth? Disgust filled him with a fury that made his head throb, his gut clench, and his fists tighten. Henry had always been softhearted towards women. Oliver could imagine him wanting to come to her aid like Sir Galahad on a white steed. It answered quite a few questions and yet left so many unanswered. “What did Henry do?”
“He was going to call Blackhurst out. He told me he was going to put a bullet between the Earl of Blackhurst’s eyes and send him to hell where he belonged.”
Oliver gasped. “Good God!” This he could not picture his brother doing.
Dalmere shook his head. “I managed to talk him out of it, but the damage was done. Henry became like a man possessed. He cursed Blackhurst to the devil at every opportunity. He said he told her of his feelings and vowed to keep her from harm.”
“And?”
“And what? I don’t think she took him seriously. Either that or she was happy to be slapped around by Blackhurst. Would it surprise you to know that what she gives to you, she never gave to Henry? Yet, he was her slave, ready and eager to do her bidding. I worry he may have gone too far and committed the ultimate crime of passion—for her.”
Oliver leaned against the wall for support. No! Henry would never have done such a thing. What Dalmere was implying was impossible, improbable, and completely mad. He felt like casting up his accounts.
“I see I have upset you. I have no proof, of course, and I, myself, am disgusted I could even think it of him. But really, if you could have seen the murder in his eyes that day.”
“And you told no one of this?”
“Why would I? The duel never happened. No one else but I knew of his feelings towards Blackhurst or his wife. Who would have believed it of mild-mannered Henry Whitely? It is possible Lady Blackhurst had him under the thumb though. He seemed consumed by dark thoughts before Blackhurst’s death and plagued by paranoia after.”
“Do you think he was capable of murder?”
Dalmere shrugged. “I don’t know. A desperate man will do anything under the right kind of pressure and with the right kind of incentive.”
Oliver paled.
Dalmere looked at him thoughtfully. “I shouldn’t have told you. I have no proof, and I do not think you should delve into this issue any further. It will only make your memory ofyour brother tainted. The fact is Blackhurst was an arse. A manipulative, Machiavellian genius with brutal tendencies. He deserved what he got.”
“I just can’t imagine my brother like that. He was a gentle, dependable, steadfast sort of fellow.”
“Yes, yes he was,” Dalmere said. “It is how you should remember him.” He gave Oliver a pat on the shoulder.
Dalmere left Bellamy frowning into his drink. How quick the fool had been to believe his brother possibly capable of murder. Dalmere could not stop himself from smiling as he headed towards the card room.
A seed, once sown, was bound to grow with the right tending.
Chapter Nine
Lisbeth had anewfound admiration for actors. Not for their lifestyle, but for their ability to play a part and sustain it. She too was playing a part. Her alter ego, the Black Raven, was used to stares. Used to the finger pointing and the whispered conversations as she passed. It was a part she’d been forced to play by theton. A part she no longer wanted to play but had to, for just a little longer, though it was getting harder to pull off, especially in front of Bellamy.
Lisbeth saw him standing alone, deep in his thoughts at the side of Selbourne’s ballroom. She walked over and stood next to him, taking in the sights and sounds of the crowded room before her. She didn’t really know what to say to him. What could she say? He knew she was there, but he did not look at her or acknowledge her presence.
She looked around at the other guests. They all seemed to be having a grand time. Laughing and chatting and dancing. At this moment she hated them all.
Then Lisbeth saw her, just a flash as she moved in and out of the crowd, but she would recognize her anywhere. Marie! Her sister was here? A frenzy raced through her veins urging her body into movement. She took two steps before she even realized and was able to stop herself from picking up her skirts and sprinting across the crowded ballroom. Her eyes frantically searched for one more glimpse of her beloved sibling. Tears pricked behind her eyes, her throat closing around her sister’sname, but she was gone. An ache invaded her chest, like a steel band pulled tight around her heart.
Marie!
She turned to Bellamy. He only raised a brow at her. “I just saw my sister,” she said, her voice filled with barely held back excitement.
He cocked his head to the side. “You have a sister?”
“Yes, younger by nearly five years… and she is here.”
“Then by all means, do not let me stop you from speaking with her.” His voice held more than a little annoyance.
“I can’t. Not here.”
“I would think this the perfect time,” he said but he was looking over her shoulder to the room beyond. “I would give anything to talk to my brother right now,” he said, his voice oddly strained.
