Cordell glanced at the viscount and while she imagined he might be just as thrilled as she was to put this nightmare behind them all, there was a strange look on his face that told her what he was about to reveal did not bode well.
“We shall have to approach this matter delicately, considering who the prime suspect is.”
“Who is it?” she asked, unable to keep the anticipation out of her voice.
The viscount blinked and then paled before her very eyes. “You do not mean to imply?—?”
“That is exactly what I’m saying,” Cordell returned grimly. “I was named for him, after all. The ‘C’ is just another confirmation.”
“Wait.” Aislynn stepped forward, intercepting the conversation. For some reason, her heart was starting to fall with the same matched dread. “What are you saying?”
“The murderer is my uncle,” Cordell announced, the muscles in his throat working as he swallowed, as if he wasn’t quite able to admit the truth aloud—or to himself. “Wendell Cordell Waverly, the Duke of Otlingham.”
If there was one thing Cordell hadn’t wanted to believe, it was that his uncle truly was the mad duke that everyone had claimed. After all these years, he’d heatedly defended the recluse, only to have his worst fears confirmed by a single sheet of vellum and a pair of piercing blue eyes. He distinctly recalled his mother mentioning that her brother possessed a gaze like no other, a trait that had been passed on from Cordell’s grandfather. Although the duke’s name was Wendell, he generally went by Cordell to those that were closely known to him. He had claimed that he’d never cared for Wendell.
“Are you sure?” He saw the clear look of dismay on Aislynn’s face and he wished he could reassure her, to explain that the threat of melancholy and insanity did not spread to both sides of his family tree but there was no mistaking the truth. The horror of his past was about to revisit him and the taint upon his bloodline would never recover after this. His reputation would be tarnished, forever blackened by this stain. He knew that he could not put Aislynn through that misery. Just when he’d been starting to feel a slight hope for the future, it was effectively ripped out from under him.
“Yes. The truth is right here.” He waved a hand to indicate the matching letters. “All that is left is finding a way to get him to admit to the crimes. That should be easy enough to accomplish.” He looked at the viscount. “I will reach out to Reynolds, although I could use your assistance to stand with the watch and ensure he is taken away once he has confessed.”
He could tell Lord Alton was not sure what to say that would ease the blow. “Of course. I shall assist in any way I can.”
“Thank you. I appreciate that.” Cordell exhaled a heavy breath. “Once everything comes to light you may want to distance yourself from me so you are not implicated by association. There are some who believe that madness ‘bleeds’ off to others.”
“Then the devil take anyone who dares to speak of such things to me,” the viscount snapped, his own frustrations coming to the forefront.
“I will not blame you for what happens afterward,” Cordell noted quietly. “You must do your duty to your future line and keeping an association with me will not easily find you a bride.”
Lord Alton visibly clenched his jaw. “I despise all of this,” he muttered. He offered Cordell a light bow, showing the same courtesy to Aislynn as well. “I shall take my leave for now, to allow this revelation to process. I will return in short order.”
“Good. I wish to rid myself of this issue once and for all.”
Once the viscount was gone, Cordell finally allowed his gaze to shift to Aislynn, who was giving him that damned look he’d been dreading. He knew it was coming, but he had been able to stop it. Pity. “Cordell?—”
She attempted to reach out to him, but he evaded her touch. He could not allow himself any sort of comfort, because that could very well be his undoing. After his father had died, his uncle had been the only person left on this earth he believed that he could count upon in times of hardship. He had been his rock when the waves were the most turbulent, and now, his entire world felt unsteady, as if someone had taken the entire earth and tilted it several degrees.
He could feel the edges of his vision starting to close in around him, the darkness threatening to consume him, but he gritted his teeth, forcing the madness at bay. He would not give in to the pull of the abyss until he was assured that Aislynn was safe. Afterward, he would not fight it any longer. He would let it drag him under without a fight because everything he had to live for would be gone.
He couldn’t look her in the eyes when he murmured, “I think it would be best if you went to stay with Mary until all of this is settled.”
“No.” He recognized the firm tone of her voice and reluctantly faced her. There was no doubt that there was mutiny flashing in her green gaze. “I am not going anywhere. If you are going to confront your uncle, then I am going to be right there with you.”
“Absolutely, not. It is far too dangerous.”
“Nothing will happen with you, Lord Alton, and the Bow Street Runners there.”
Cordell knew he would have to try another tactic to dissuade her. “Why would you want to be there? Do you intend to confront a madman?”
“There is a part of me that wants to demand answers, yes, but that is not why I want to go.” She moved closer and he tensed. Thankfully, she did not pursue him. “I want to be there for you. This is not going to be an easy task. I know how much you feel you owe him.”
“He saved my life,” Cordell murmured harshly. He could feel his chest tighten, emotion that he didn’t want to feel starting to swirl up inside of him. He shoved a hand through his hair, choosing to replace his upset with anger and resentment. “Bloody hell.”
“Cordell—”
He wasn’t looking so he didn’t notice her reaching out a second time. When she touched his arm, it was as if the material beneath her grasp caught flame and burned through to his skin. “Leave me!” he shouted more harshly than he’d intended, but he could tell he was about to implode and he did not want to do that in front of her. “You have to leave. Now.”
He waited for her to argue with him, to complain about how he was being unfair. Instead, she said nothing. She did not do anything at all but slowly walk out of the room. He was not facing her, he could not, but the sound of her footsteps softly moving away was his undoing.
He stumbled to the nearest chair and collapsed onto it, his head falling into his hands.
