Albright said nothing, merely gave a brief nod as she turned to lead the way.
She could practicallyfeelhis eyes upon her, following her every move, and it set her teeth on edge. Already her head was beginning to pound from the sheer strain of his presence. He was so difficult to read that she wasn’t sure if there was a particular reason behind his quiet perusal or if he was always this somber. He didn’t seem like the sort of man who would try and intimidate her as Roger had, but what did she really know of the duke, other than what he portrayed to the rest of society? Regardless, something told her he wasn’t nearly as passive or dimwitted as everyone imagined him to be.
Lyra sank down in one of the wingback chairs by the fireplace, hoping that the chill that was trying to invade her body would subside near the crackling warmth. She thought that the duke might do the same, but instead, he chose to stand and lean against the mantle. It was a casual enough pose, but Lyra felt unnerved by it nevertheless.
His mouth turned up slightly in one corner as if he could read her thoughts. “I know that you’re tired, Lady Weston, so don’t feel that you have to stand on ceremony on my account. As you know, this isn’t a social call.”
While Lyra appreciated his concern, his direct reference to their arrangement caused her to bristle slightly. “I realize that, Your Grace, but if I don’t return to some semblance of…normality while I’m here, I will only dwell on the matter of my upcoming trial and the sheer absurdity of it.”
He cocked his head to the side. “If you are innocent of the charges, you have nothing to worry about.”
“If only it were that simple,” Lyra returned. “Someone obviously wants to believe I’m guilty, or else why would I have been arrested in the first place?”
The duke shrugged. “You might be surprised at the motivation for some people. It might not even take so much as a slight for them to enact some sort of revenge, and if you or Roger had any enemies—”
Lyra twisted her lips in disgust. “Oh, rest assured, he hadmany. If there was one thing my husband enjoyed, other than his numerous liaisons, it was throwing around his power. Old and young, rich and poor, everyone detested him.”
There was a brief pause. “Did you?”
The softly spoken question made Lyra close her eyes. For years she’d been the subject of subtle ridicule, and as much as she’d tried to ignore it, it wasn’t a secret how Roger had treated her. The looks of pity shot her way whenever they appeared together had been extremely wearing, and even though she’d done her best to be the subservient wife that was expected of her, it hadn’t been enough.
And now, even from beyond the grave, it seemed as if Roger was attempting to deliver one final blow.
In the end, she slowly lifted her dark eyes and, for good or ill, she answered honestly. “You asked if I detested Roger? Yes, I did. Do Istilldespise him? Absolutely. But that doesn’t mean I felt he deserved to die, and I certainly didn’t cause his demise. He did that all on his own.” Clenching her fists, Lyra stood. “Now if you will excuse me, I believe I shall retire, since you released me from my duties as hostess. Good evening, Your Grace, and feel free to entertain yourself.”
* * *
Alister blew out a breath as Lyra left the room. Well, he’d effectively managed to muddle that up quite nicely…
He shoved a hand through his hair, realizing that he’d offended her somehow, although he had no idea how he’d done it. He trulyhadbeen concerned for her when he’d suggested that she retire, but she’d seemed to take it as an insult. Then, when he’d asked about Roger, he could tell it was an unwelcome subject for her, and really, he could have been a bit more tactful in his line of questioning. The problem was that he was a diplomat, used to being direct in his dealings with members of Parliament and his fellow peers. He’d forgotten how emotional and tender a woman’s sensibilities could be—especially in light of everything Lady Weston was being forced to endure at the moment.
A brief knock at the parlor door interrupted Alister’s musings.
The butler entered with a bow. “My apologies, Your Grace, but I was looking for Lady Weston. Her mother—”
“Does not need to be announced, Barton.” As the dowager viscountess sailed past the aggrieved servant, she took one look around before pinning Alister with a firm look. “Where is my daughter? I know she’s returned.”
“Indeed, she has, Lady Eversleigh.” When she would have turned to leave, Alister added in a firmer tone, “However, as she’s already retired for the evening, I prefer that she isn’t disturbed.”
Lavinia’s mouth dropped open, apparently surprised that he’d dared to challenge her.
But as the maid chose that moment to arrive with the teacart, he found the opportunity to soften his command. “Ah, perfect timing. Won’t you join me?”
Lady Eversleigh pursed her lips in annoyance before relenting with a slight tilt of her chin. “I suppose I could do with a bit of refreshment.” She lifted a brow. “So long as you promise to grant me some answers.”
“Of course,” Alister replied cordially.
Once the maid had poured their tea and left them alone, Lyra’s mother wasted no time in her inquisition. “Pray tell, how is it that you have been chosen as Lyra’s guardian?”
Alister tapped a finger on his teacup. “I petitioned Lord Liverpool.”
Her eyes widened. “The Prime Minister? But why would you do that?”
“It’s as I explained to your daughter earlier, Lady Eversleigh. Just because she is accused of this heinous crime, that does not make her guilty. I believe, until she is granted a fair trial, that she should enjoy the comforts of home, as opposed to a drafty cell in the Tower.”
Lavinia frowned. “While I admire your concern for my daughter’s wellbeing, as well as your rather eloquent speech, Your Grace, I’m afraid that you merely avoided my query.” She cocked her head to the side. “I asked howyou, in particular, became involved.”
He had to smile. There was no pulling of the wool over this woman’s eyes. On the other hand, Alister wasn’t a veteran agent for no reason.
