“Bloody hell, I’m coming. Stop that infernal racket—”
The door opened to reveal a puffy-eyed fellow, his blond hair standing up in disordered tufts. He wore a stained dressing gown that he’d clearly just thrown on.
He glared blearily at Richard. “Who the devil are you?”
“I’m here for Parnell.”
“Don’t know any Parnell, so you’d better toddle off—”
Richard inserted his boot to prevent the door from closing. He gave the wooden barrier a shove, causing the other to stumble back and out of his way. He strode into the small cottage, grabbing a taper off a side table to light the way. There were only two bedchambers, and he found Parnell in the second one.
The bastard was naked in bed with a voluptuous brunette—the barmaid, no doubt. Both were snoring. Next to her was a third pillow with an indentation still upon it.
Richard set down the lamp and shook Parnell’s shoulder. “Get up, you bastard.”
Parnell smacked his lips, his eyes still shut.
The blond man came marching in. “This is my house, and you’re trespassing—”
Richard swatted the other out of his way and went to the washing stand. Finding the ewer full, he returned and dumped the contents over Parnell.
Parnell jolted upright, swearing. “Wh-what the devil?”
The barmaid turned onto her other side, still snoring.
“Did you give Violet the poison?” Richard growled.
Clearly still three sheets to the wind, Parnell stared at him with bloodshot eyes.
“Carlisle? That you?” he said, slurring. “What in blazes are you doing here?”
“Did you give Violet the poison?” Grabbing hold of the other’s shoulders, Richard gave a forceful shake.
“Poison? What poison?” Parnell groaned. “For the love of God, stop that manhandling, or I’ll cast my accounts.”
Richard pinned the other against the headboard. “I’ll snap your bloody head off if you don’t confess the truth. Goggs told me anyway. You were the one who bought Violet the cider.”
“I didn’t buy her anything,” Parnell protested. “Old bacon-brains mixed things up as usual. He was the one who bought Violet the drink.”
Richard’s insides went cold. “You’re lying. You drugged her.”
“Drugged? What are you…oh.” Unholy glee lit Parnell’s eyes. “Is that why the two of you were caught making the beast with two backs in broad daylight?”
“So itwasyou.” Richard slammed the other’s head against the wood.
“Ouch! Stop that. I wouldn’t stoop to using the stuff—do I look like I need to?” Parnell gestured to his bedpartners. “I ain’t desperate like Goggs.”
Richard froze. “Goggs?”
“How d’you think he gets all those tavern wenches to sleep with him? He thinks it’s his little secret,”—the lordling smirked—“but I figured it out ages ago. Why on earth would he drug Violet, I wonder?”
Pulse racing, Richard grabbed clothes off a nearby chair and tossed them at Parnell. “Get dressed. We’re leavingnow.”
~~~
Richard arrived back at the estate an hour before dawn. The journey would have been quicker had Parnell not needed to retch twice on the way back. He dragged the pale-faced bastard up the steps into the main atrium. Despite the early hour, Kent was there, conferring with McLeod.
Richard hesitated. Had the Blackwoods succeeded in smoothing the way with the investigator?
