“So.” Tristan shrugged.
Dominic leaned toward Tristan and shook his head. “The suspicion has grown now that Lord Elliot has been killed. Several witnesses reported to the magistrate that they saw you and Elliot arguing a couple of nights before he was murdered.”
Tristan scratched his chin. “But you were there, Hawthorne. You had to take me home from the card game because I was foxed. You know the argument didn’t mean anything.”
Dominic nodded. “And I have already told the magistrate this, but because you disappeared the night before your wedding and nobody knew where you were, you are still a suspect.”
“Lord Tristan,” Lord Gilbert spoke. “My cousin is one of the men working with the magistrate on this case. He informed me that your name is high on the suspects list. Unlike Hollingsworth, Lord Elliot didn’t have that many enemies, but because you are linked to both men, the magistrate is going to start searching for more clues. Since your so-called kidnapping happened a day before the killing, that makes the magistrate more suspicious.”
“What?” Tristan jumped out of his chair, standing above the other men. “Myso-calledkidnapping, you say? Indeed Iwaskidnapped. I didn’t plan that, and I certainly didn’t have any reason to kill Lord Elliot.”
Lord Gilbert nodded. “I believe you about the kidnapping, but the magistrate will want to know who you have been with these past few days.”
“I was with the lady who kidnapped me.”
“Are you willing to give them her name?” Gilbert tilted his head, his eyes narrowing with distress.
Tristan scowled. “Of course I won’t give them her name. As I’d mentioned before, I shan’t cause scandal to her again.”
Trey grasped Tristan’s arm and glared into his eyes. “By not giving them the information they seek, that might be the very reason you’d get arrested.”
Confusion swam in Tristan’s mind. He understood the dilemma, but… No, he couldn’t ruin Diana any more than he had already. “Then that’s a chance I’ll have to take.”
“You are willing to be arrested for a crime you did not commit?” Trey’s voice lifted in irritation.
Tristan nodded. “If that’s what it takes, yes. I can only pray the magistrate will seek to find proof before they have a trial, because I can assure you, they will not find any.”
Gilbert scrubbed his jaw. “I wish the higher courts believed in such a thing.”
Across the table, Dominic released a ragged sigh and ran his fingers through his hair.
Trey groaned, rubbing his forehead and met Tristan’s stare. “Then we need to have our older brother, Trevor, hire that well-known solicitor after all because I fear you will need him soon.”
Dread squeezed Tristan’s heart. Sadly, he knew his brother was correct this time.
Chapter Twenty
The next day,Diana sat as still as she could on her cushioned chair and waited for the butler to bring in her unwelcome guests—the magistrate and one of his men. Not more than five minutes ago, she watched from the window as their coach rolled to a stop in the front of the house. Fear leapt to her throat and stung her eyes. She couldn’t tell them the truth about the night Lord Elliot had been killed. Good Heavens, they would think she had done the deed for certain.
Although she maintained a calm outward appearance, her heartbeat flipped with anxiety, and her palms were moist. Inhaling deeply, she realized her breathing had been altered, as well. Would they notice she was trying to hide something?
Slowly, she slid her palms on her dress to dry the wetness gathered, as she listened for their footsteps to sound on the floor in the corridor. The longer she waited, her stomach churned, and she wanted to scream with frustration.
Why would they suspect her murdering Lord Elliot? True, she had been there that night she’d rescued Sally, but the girl had met her out by the servant’s door. Diana hadn’t even gone inside the manor, and she especially had not been spotted by any of the nobleman’s other servants since they were supposed to have been all in bed asleep. Not that Diana checked on every one, but she knew her servants—or Ludlow’s—would have been asleep at that time during the night.
Finally, the sound she’d been waiting for came when several footsteps clamored on the floor. Taking another deep breath, she turned her eyes toward the doorway just as her butler showed them in.
The magistrate looked as if he were attending a social gathering, wearing a top hat, and his black coat stretched across his portly belly, and his black breeches looked just as snug. The man along with him wore a uniform—black jacket with golden buttons up the front and on the cuffs—and a black top hat and matching shiny boots. They entered the sitting room and then simultaneously removed their hats and bowed to her.
She nodded then motioned to the sofas. “Gentlemen, would you care to sit?”
“I thank you, Lady Hollingsworth,” Sir Felix said and moved to the piece of furniture as the other followed. “I hope you forgive our intrusion, but we have some questions to ask you about Lord Elliot’s murder.”
“There is nothing to forgive. I will answer any question you have for me.”
The other man gave her a smile, although Diana could see it was forced. Still, she regarded them with as much kindness and politeness as she could muster.
“How well did you know Lord Elliot Henson?” the magistrate asked.
