“Xander, that isn’t the point!” My hands had started to dance the way his did, but mine were more irritation than expression.
“I rather think it is. What was he involved in that he needed second ledgers? And why did you take them?”
“There was some nonsense with horse studding that wasn’t strictly legal. And he owned a stake in a brothel. Also some gambling.” I waved the reasons away. “And I took them because he wouldn’t have wanted you or his father to know about that.”
“And you think his murder has to do with an affair he had years before but not whatever nonsense he was doing with the horse studding, the brothel, or the gambling?” His hands grew more and more agitated.
“He stopped all of that when he met me. Please, Xander? I know it’s him. Something isn’t right about William. I can feel it—in here.” I pressed both palms to my heart, one atop the other. Willing him to understand, to believe me.
He was silent for a beat, two, three. Studying me. “Say I agree that it’s an unlikelypossibilitythat hemighthave been involved. What do you plan to do about it?”
Finally!“I’m investigating him. I was hoping you could tell me more about him. And then I intended to have a sneak through his office for anything incriminating that I didn't recognize then.”
He sighed. “I don’t remember much. I was very young. I did not like Adriane—she stared through me all the time. But Will was nice to me and Davina. He would slip us the frosting off his cake—said he didn’t like it. Which was a lie, everyone likes frosting. Now, I use his services. He and Mr. Summers—Lord Leighton—own a practice and they manage the legal business and finances for the estates. He’s… nice.”
“He was in the army, though. He must know how to stab someone. That’s not the sort of thing nice men know how to do.”
“Celine, you’ve spent the best part of a decade learning to fence. I rather think you know how to stab someone too.That doesn’t mean you’ve ever done it. And I know you’re not suggesting that army men cannot be kind.”
I was left with no alternative but to release a frustrated, “Agh!” at his deliberate nescience.
“Aghyourself. You sound like Davina.” The last bit was muttered under his breath.
“Xander, please!”
“If, and I do meanif, I help you, we need to agree on some things.”
“Anything.”
“No running off by yourself. In the unlikely event that he did murder Gabriel, we’re dealing with a killer. I won’t have you getting yourself hurt.”
“Unnecessary, but agreed.”
“No telling anyone and everyone you meet your suspicions. Not until I agree that we’re certain. I won’t have you ruining the life of an innocent man. An accusation from someone of your station could put him in the gaol at best, the noose at worst.”
“Fine.” As irritating as it was, I could see the advantages of prudence.
“I want you to remind yourself every day—no, three times a day—that he is likely innocent.”
“But—”
“No. Your evidence is flimsy and circumstantial.”
“Fine.”
“And I want you to do me a favor,” he leaned forward, ensuring my gaze met his. “I want you to start to move on. Gabriel was a selfish man, but even he wouldn’t have wanted you to mourn him this deeply for this long. I don’t need you walking down the aisle tomorrow, just… Promise me you’ll cut down your visits to once a month. You cannot possibly move on when you talk to your husband’s grave nearly every day.”
“How do you know about that?”
He merely shot me a look from under his brow that clearly stated what he thought of that question.
“Fine, I will try. I do not promise to succeed.”
“That’s all I can ask. Now, what is the plan?”
Nine
HART AND SUMMERS, SOLICITORS, LONDON - JUNE 6, 1816
