CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
Roarke sat in his study with a glass of brandy dangling from his fingertips. As much as he needed the fortification, especially after this night, he found that he had no taste for the drink at the moment. With a sigh, he set it aside, untouched, at the same time Carter appeared in the doorway.
“The doctor just left, my lord, along with the coroner and the…body.” He hesitated over the word as if it were almost too impossible to imagine. “Once the magistrate is gone, the staff and I will begin…” He paused once more. “…putting the parlor back to rights.”
Just the idea of cleaning up blood turned Roarke’s stomach. He was thankful for such faithful servants. “Thank you, Carter. This has been quite a stressful event for all of us, and while I know the scandal is bound to end up in the papers at some point, I would appreciate it if the downstairs gossip could be kept to a bare minimum.” He paused. “For my mother’s sake.”
“Of course, my lord.” With that, the butler bowed and took his leave.
Moments later, Lyra appeared. She looked drawn and tired, and Roarke’s heart went out to her. It wasn’t but a few days ago she was laying her husband to rest, and now she had this mess to contend with. “Mara is sleeping. I finally got her to take the laudanum that the doctor prescribed for her.”
“She needs her rest,” Roarke agreed, before he asked gently, “How are you?”
She gave a weary smile. “I haven’t dealt with nearly as much as Mara. We should focus on her needs right now.”
Roarke shoved a hand through his hair. “I think I’m going to have Lily buried next to Mara’s father in the family plot.”
Lyra’s eyes widened. “You’re willing to do that, even though you know she’s responsible for father’s death?”
“Yes, I am.” Roarke blew out a breath. “I see now that she was only protecting her sister. I can’t truly fault Lily for being sick, and in my eyes, she redeemed herself tonight by saving Mara’s life when I had a moment where I wasn’t sure I could.”
“That’s very noble of you, Roarke.” Lyra surprised him by adding, “You’ve finally become a man I can truly say I’m proud of.”
With that, she turned and quit the room, but her words hung in the air long after she’d departed. Roarke was still contemplating them when Mr. Andrews, Rion, and the magistrate entered.
“I believe I have everything I need, Lord Eversleigh, although I still need a statement from you.”
A glance at the clock told Roarke that it was nearly two o’clock in the morning. “If it’s all the same to you, I’d prefer to drop by a bit later this morning, after I’ve had a few hours of sleep.”
“As you wish.”
Once he was gone, Mr. Andrews took a seat while Rion gestured to Roarke’s brandy. “Mind pouring me one of those?” he asked.
Without a word, Roarke handed over his glass. “You can have mine.” The earl eyed him curiously before he shrugged and drank half of it in one swallow.
In turn, the investigator tugged off his hat and rubbed his thinning brown head. “I think I’m getting too old for this,” he muttered.
“Hardly,” Roarke countered. “You managed to warn me of Davis’s perfidy in time.”
Mr. Andrews shook his head. “That was merely by chance. I saw him coming out of a rather seedy tavern in the East End not long before Mr. Larkin and his cohort entered. I had a feeling that something was amiss, so I followed him. Once he took off with your sister and Lady Eversleigh, I immediately went to Lord Rockford’s townhouse. I knew if anyone could tell me where you might be, it would be the earl.”
“And since I couldn’t allow my friend to have all the fun without me,” Rion interjected, “I decided to tag along.”
Roarke couldn’t help but snort. “You always did love playing the hero.”
The earl merely countered, “Only because you weren’t any good at it.”
* * *
Mara knew she was having a dream, but she couldn’t seem to wake. Her hands clenched the covers in agitation and her head tossed from side to side. She mumbled something incoherently as so many faces hurled themselves at her subconscious. Bentley…the slaves she couldn’t save…James Larkin…Lily…her father…the former Lord Eversleigh…Lyra…Lavinia…until they all meshed together to become one.
Roarke. He looked just as she remembered from their youth, a carefree man with tousled, sandy blond hair and those shimmering, hazel eyes. But suddenly, his face melted away, the image fading to be replaced with scorn and derision. They were back in the conservatory where she’d just told him the awful truth of the past. But instead of leaving her alone, he wrapped his hands around her neck and began to squeeze…
With a cry, Mara’s eyes flew open. Her body was damp with perspiration, and her breathing was heavy.
She sat up in bed and wrapped her trembling hands around her bent knees. Her head was fuzzy, and her mouth was dry, and the very thought of putting anything in her stomach was out of the question. She’d never felt so queasy in her life.
She knew the effects were likely due to the laudanum Lyra had encouraged her to take the night before to help her sleep. Mara didn’t really remember what had happened after she’d seen Lily’s body, for it was all a blur, but she knew the local doctor had been sent for.
