As the shock of Monique’s death had worn off, an awful suspicion had arisen in Richard: was his brother somehow mixed up in the business? He didn’t believe for a second that Wick would harm anyone… but what if his brother had had a connection with Monique? An amorous one?
He recalled the noxious scent that had clung to Wick when he’d shown up at Richard’s townhouse several weeks ago… what had Wick said about it?
It’s French and expensive.
Richard had asked if Wick was referring to the perfume or the tart who’d worn it.
And Wick had said,Both.
That same vile smell had irritated Richard last night at supper. Could Monique have been the one wearing it? Had she and Wick been carrying on some sort of affair?
A vein throbbed near Richard’s temple. He prayed that his suspicions were unfounded because a connection between Wick and the Frenchwoman might make Wick a suspect. And there was still the matter of the ring: how had the deuced thing ended up in Monique’s hand?
Which brought Richard to the second source of his disquiet. Somehow, he’d allowed Violet to get entangled in this mess. He hated the fact that she was concealing evidence for his brother’s sake, but at the moment he didn’t know a better option.
He glanced at her. As she discussed the case with her sister, her features were animated—no doubt because she’d wrangled her way into the interview with Ashe. Watching her, he felt a stirring of a deep hunger, yearning beyond anything he’d experienced before. He knew his desire for her wasn’t wise, but that no longer seemed to matter.
It justwas—and he was tired of fighting it.
Moreover, as far as he was concerned, theyhadto get married now. He’d taken advantage of her innocence not once but twice, and he needed to do right by her. His honor depended upon it. But how would he convince a free-spirited miss like Violet to marry a man she thought was a bloody stuffed shirt?
The door opened, and Kent walked in.
Richard put a lid on his rumination.You’ll talk to Violet soon. For now, focus—for Wick’s sake.
“How did it go?” Her Grace said. “Did you find any clues in Monique’s bedchamber?”
Kent cleared his throat. “No. Nothing in particular.” For some reason, his jaw reddened. “At least, nothing that would suggest a reason for her death.”
“Perhaps I ought to have a go at her bedchamber—” Her Grace began.
“That’s not necessary, Emma,” the investigator said firmly. “Heed me on this.”
“Did you learn anything from Monique’s maid?” Violet said.
Kent sighed. “When I informed her of the news, she became hysterical. ’Twas impossible to interview her in such a state. The housekeeper gave her a sleeping draught; I’ll talk to her again after she wakes.” He sat, stretching his long legs in front of him. “In the interim, I’ve summoned Miss Ashe. She’s on her way.”
“I can’t wait to hear what she has to say,” the duchess declared.
“Billings has yet to make an announcement concerning Monique’s death, so Miss Ashe should be in the dark about the business—unless, of course, she was involved. Your job is to observe her reaction, Em.” Kent aimed a stern look at his sister. “Let me take the lead.”
“Whatever you say,” Her Grace said brightly. “When do I ever interfere?”
Behind her, Strathaven looked… amused.
As Kent and the duchess discussed their strategy for the interview, Violet said under her breath, “Emma can be a bit managing, you see.”
Being neither deaf nor blind, Richard had surmised as much. Yet he heard the affection in Violet’s tone, a matter-of-fact acceptance of her sibling’s foibles. From what he’d observed thus far, the Kents seemed to share a rare respect for one another. Or perhaps they were too unconventional to notice each other’s eccentricities.
“Is this a problem for you?” he ventured.
“It’s part of Em’s charm.” Violet’s lips tipped up. “Just as dodging her is part of mine.”
The playful and unconditional warmth she had for her family was foreign to his own experience. In the Murray household, affection had been measured and expectations strict; any deviation from one’s role had led to repercussions. He’d always been the responsible son. Ever since he could remember, his father had pressed upon him the importance of duty, of taking care of the family. After Papa’s death, when Richard hadn’t been able to keep Mama in the style she’d been accustomed to, she’d made her displeasure clear.
Whereas Wick… Wick had always been the prodigal son for whom no repenting was necessary. He’d been cossetted by the entire family, Richard included.
And look at where that has gotten him,Richard thought heavily.
