Molly stared up at Mr. Cartwright, aghast. “You’re going to denounce me too?”
Mr. Cartwright shook his head in disgust. “You killed Lord Coleford. Of course I denounce you.”
Molly let out an ungodly scream and threw herself toward Cartwright, stabbing at his eyes as if to scratch them out, but Daffin Oakleaf stepped in the way, blocking her path. He grabbed her wrists in one large hand and spun her around, wrestling her into the pair of darby handcuffs he’d pulled from his jacket pocket.
Molly tried to struggle out of Daffin’s hold.
“Careful,” he said against her ear. “Don’t make me use my truncheon on you.”
From her position near the doorway, Regina gave Nicole a little smile.
Daffin carted both Molly and her mother out of the room while everyone else stared at one another aghast.
“My apologies,” the duke said, clearing his throat and addressing the room at large. “I had to tell a bit of a fib there in order to get Miss Lester to confess. I’m exceedingly grateful it worked.”
“A fib?” Lord Anthony echoed.
“Yes,” the duke replied with a faint smile. “The truth is that Mr. Cartwright is not the heir, as he’s already been told. Thank you for your help, Mr. Cartwright.”
Mr. Cartwright gave a grave nod. “I’m only glad we’ve found the culprit. Shocking as it is.”
In the back of the room, Lord Tottenham cleared his throat. “Then who is the heir?”
CHAPTER FORTY-ONE
Mark swiveled on his heel. It was time. He had to tell the truth. “Lord Tottenham,” he intoned. “Before His Grace makes the announcement, may I have a word with you… alone?”
Tottenham’s face wrinkled into a confused frown, but he nodded and followed Mark to the door.
“We won’t be long,” Mark informed the occupants of the room. On his way out, he whispered to Nicole, “Please join us.”
“Me?” Nicole pointed to herself.
Mark grinned at her and nodded.
Regina pushed Nicole toward the door. “Go,” she mouthed.
Nicole followed the two men from the room. The three of them entered the green salon next door.
As soon as the door shut behind them, Tottenham turned to Mark, tugging at his waistcoat that bulgedover his belly. “I know what this is about, Grimaldi. I promised you your promotion if you solved the case. Not to worry, I’m a man of my word and you shall have it. I hardly think we needed to delay the announcement because of it, however. I, for one, am on tenterhooks to hear the news, especially since I learned the heir is not Cartwright.”
Mark folded his arms behind his back and braced his feet apart. He faced Tottenham head-on. “I believe once you know what I have to say, you’ll agree this meeting was necessary, my lord.”
“Eh?” Tottenham’s face puckered into another frown. “Very well, then. Proceed.” He crossed his arms over his girth and waited for Mark to speak.
“First,” Mark began, pacing toward the windows. “I could not have solved the case without my wife.” He smiled at Nicole, who returned his smile. She’d never looked more beautiful. “I was convinced the killer was either Lord Hillenbrand or Mr. Cartwright. It was Nicole who spoke to Miss Lester and realized she was hiding something.”
“Perhaps I should make your wife the Home Secretary, then,” Tottenham replied with a hearty laugh.
“She would be a fine choice, my lord,” Mark replied humbly. He looked at Nicole and felt something that went beyond pride, something that sent warmth through him and put a knot in his throat.
“I, however, don’t aspire to be the Home Secretary,” Nicole replied, crossing to her husband and twining her arm through his. She gently tugged him back toward Tottenham. “But my husband does and he will gladly accept your offer, my lord.”
“Excellent,” Tottenham replied, lifting his fleshy chin.
Mark winced and rubbed the back of his neck with his free hand. “First I must tell you something. Something that is certain to come as a surprise.”
“What’s that, Grimaldi?” Tottenham’s craggy brows dropped lower over his eyes.
