He handed the man his card. “It is important I see your mistress. Have Lady Trentham and Miss Tothill risen?”
The butler’s eyebrows rose at the appallingly early hour, but a glance at Ash’s card silenced him. “My lord.” He opened the door for Ash with a stiff bow. A footman was engaged to watch Ash’s horse. He followed the po-faced butler into the parlor, where the august lady and Thea sat together.
“Ah, Grainger. What a pleasant sight you make in your riding clothes,” Lady Trentham said approvingly.
He smiled, enjoying the twinkle in her ladyship’s eye. “I apologize for my dress and the early hour, Lady Trentham. Miss Tothill.” He bowed, noting his fiancée’s pale, anxious face and the purple shadows beneath her eyes. She had not become reconciled to their engagement, it seemed. Was it arrogant of him to think that she would? The suspicion returned that she had a secret plan for her life that took precedence over marriage. Uneasy, he seated himself facing their sofa.
Lady Trentham offered him coffee, which he politely refused. “When are we to journey north, Grainger?”
“Would Saturday be suitable?” The extra day would give him time to carry out his plans.
“It would.” Lady Trentham tactfully excused herself to fetch her embroidery and left the room. It was kind of her to give them a moment alone, and Ash seized it, moving to sit beside Thea.
His gaze was caught by the dimple, which popped out at the corner of her mouth as she smiled. “Quickly, tell me, what happened last night. Did you see the laird?”
Her smiled faded at Ash’s grave expression. He groaned inwardly. “Not good news, I’m afraid.”
Her troubled gaze held his. “Oh no.”
Ash gave her a censored version of Spencer’s demise.
Thea’s shoulders drooped. “It was Farnborough, wasn’t it.”
“He is certainly behind it.”
“What will you do now?”
He wasn’t about to tell her too much. She was too keen to become involved. “I have a fair idea who did it and will deal with him.”
“He must be very dangerous.”
“Yes, he is.”
“Should you not call a constable to assist you?”
Ash shook his head. “He crept up on Spencer in the dark. But he won’t enjoy that luxury with me.”
She studied his face. “What will you do with him?”
“Whatever is necessary to prevent him from causing any more grief.”
He saw panic in her eyes. “Oh, do be careful, Grainger.”
He clasped her hands and raised them to his lips, causing a flush to warm her cheeks. “I have asked a trusted comrade to watch over you and your grandmother until we leave London. Don’t become alarmed should you see a tall, rangy fellow with a shock of black hair following you about. If you find yourself in trouble, call on him to help you. Peter Barker is an ex-army man and very capable.”
“You think I might have need of him?”
“It’s best to be sure.”
“But if you put a stop to this murderer, won’t Farnborough just give up?”
“Don’t worry, Thea. It will soon be over.”
“But will it?” She frowned. “Was poor Lord Spencer dead when you found him?”
“Almost.”
Her eyes enormous, she put a shaky hand to her cheek. “Did he speak to you before he died?”
