She bent her head and the tears flowed now as she recalled Stephen’s stricken face, his gasping for breath as he lay on the carpet in their bedroom. “Yes.”
“What were they, Lady Walridge?” Ridgeway encouraged.
She swallowed. “The reason people believe that I murdered him is because I and several servants heard him say ‘you’as I knelt beside him. The rumors went from there.”
Ridgeway turned to Glenmarrow and the two men met glances. A world of unspoken communication flowed between them, and Naomi wrinkled her brow as she watched it all play out. At last, Glenmarrow got to his feet in a fascinating unfolding of lean muscle. He paced away to the window.
“Well, it certainly merits some investigation,” he said. “Especially considering the deaths of your prior spouses. Even your parents, in such short order.”
She caught her breath at his tone and got up herself, pivoting toward him. “I can hear what you mean, my lord, and I resent it. I did not kill anyone.”
He arched a brow. “I never said you did.”
“You don’t have to, it’s written all over your arrogant face,” she snapped. “And in your tone. Do you not think I’ve heard it enough to recognize it? Why would I come here, asking you to investigate Stephen’s murder if I were the one who murdered him? Especially considering that the doctor has declared it a natural occurrence.”
Ridgeway had stood when she did, and he said, “She makes a good point.”
“People do a great many things when they feel cornered,” Glenmarrow pointed out softly. “I am not qualified to speak of motives yet. Not until I do more investigation.”
Naomi clenched her fists at her sides and glared at him. She wished she weren’t so close to crying. Wished she could be as cool and detached as this man was. “Why bother?” she snapped, gasping for breath between words. “After all, you already think you know the truth. I made a mistake in coming here. I’m sorry I wasted your time. Good day.”
She raced toward the study door and flung it open. As she hurtled herself into the hall, she nearly collided with a maid who was bringing tea. She rushed around the girl and down the long hall. She pushed out into the stoop, and relief filled her as she saw her carriage was still parked there, waiting for her. Jarrett got down, his eyes wide at her unexpected appearance and hustled to open the door to the rig.
“Lady Walridge!”
She heard her name being called from behind her and looked over her shoulder to find both Captain Ridgeway and the Marquess of Glenmarrow coming down the stairs behind her. She ignored them and moved to take Jarrett’s hand.
But before she could step into the carriage, there was a loud sound from the park across the street. Bangs that echoed in the air around her. Jarrett dove away from her as the glass on the open carriage door exploded.
She looked toward the park, not understanding what exactly was happening. Then a heavy body hit her, throwing her to the ground. Captain Ridgeway was now on top of her, his weight covering her as he shouted toward the marquess. She could see Glenmarrow running toward the park.
“What is happening?” she whispered.
“Someone is shooting,” Ridgeway said, and looked over at Jarrett. “Are you hit?”
“Just a bit of glass cut me,” the footman responded.
Naomi gasped and looked toward him. Sure enough, his face had a small cut that was now bleeding. “Oh no,” she gasped, and moved to look closer.
Ridgeway pressed his weight into her harder, holding her in place. “No,” he growled close to her ear. “Not yet.”
She froze, and everything that was happening slowly sank in. Someone had shot. Not at her servant, not at the man whose heavy, hard body was pinning her to the pavement. They’d been shooting at…at her.
Someone had tried to kill her.
Chapter 2
“Verrick, take Mr. Jarrett to the kitchen and have that cut looked at,” Marcus said as he held Lady Walridge against his side and helped her into the house. She was limping slightly, but he had no idea if that was because of the terror of what had just happened hitting her or if she was truly injured.
He was going to find out.
Verrick stared at him in shock. “Yes, sir. Shall I call for the guard?”
“Not yet,” Marcus said. “Everett will decide that when he returns.”
His stomach clenched at the idea of Everett chasing after some potential killer all alone. But the woman now shaking at his side needed protection, so he had to focus on that and know Everett was well capable of taking care of himself.
As Verrick and the footman headed off together, Marcus took Lady Walridge into a parlor. He shut the door and helped her to the settee before the fire. Her expression was blank, her cheek striped with dirt and her dress torn. She began to shake, and he knelt before her.
