“How can they be sure?” Henry asked.
“Because their daughter confided in them,” Ericson said. “Apparently, Miss Jones’s father was an accountant. He oversaw the current Duke of Tremaine’s taxes for a brief period before he went abroad and made sure no monies were owed. He also assisted with keeping his accounts since, as I understand it, he does not have the same financial acumen his father did.”
“So Robert met Miss Jones through her father,” Viola said, relating all too well to the story Ericson was telling.
“She was the only one at home one day when Tremaine came to call. She invited him in, they started talking, flirtation most likely occurred and... well...” Ericson scratched the back of his head. “At some point or other, Tremaine got Miss Jones with child and—”
“Good God!” Viola’s hand had come up to cover her mouth in dismay. “All of this while he was engaged to another?”
Ericson cleared his throat. “Based on the timeline I have been able to piece together, it would seem that he had his affair with Miss Jones first and that she got in the way.”
“He considered her an inconvenience,” Henry bit out.
“According to Mrs. Jones, her daughter told her she meant to confront Tremaine. She wanted him to acknowledge the child once it was born and provide for it. Her mother warned her against doing so but Miss Jones was resolute.”
“Do you know why she and Tremaine went into St. Giles?” Viola asked. It wasn’t at all the sort of place where she believed any young woman would go without a really good reason.
“I have no idea,” Ericson said, “but she was found near St. Giles-in-the-Fields.”
Henry frowned. “The church?”
“All I know is that she told her mother that Tremaine had to take responsibility for his actions and that his title should not matter when it came to doing the right thing. Mrs. Jones believes her daughter meant to persuade him to marry her.”
“Not an easy feat unless she planned to blackmail him,” Henry said, while Viola just stood there still trying to come to terms with what Robert had done.
This could have been her after all. If he hadn’t gotten betrothed immediately after their tryst, if she’d gotten pregnant, she might have suggested they marry. It would have been her dream at the time, a dangerous one that might have gotten her killed.
“It is possible,” Ericson said, “but there is no evidence to suggest it besides the fact that the Joneses never saw their daughter alive again.”
“They never confronted Tremaine about it?” Henry asked.
Ericson snorted. “What do you think?”
Viola flexed her fingers, allowing the movement to bring her back to her senses. “If we bring this before a judge, how good do you suppose our chances are of winning?”
“Slim to none,” Ericson said. He looked at them both in turn. “I’m sorry, but there’s no solid proof of Tremaine’s guilt. Add to that the fact that he’s a duke, and you’re setting yourself up for failure by pursing this any further.”
It wasn’t what Viola had hoped to hear, but she had to accept the truth of the situation. Olivia Jones would not be avenged, her killer never brought to justice. There simply wasn’t enough to go on.
“At least we tried,” Henry said after Ericson was gone. He crossed the floor to where she still stood and pulled her into his arms. “I know you were hoping for justice, Viola.”
“It isn’t fair,” she complained against his chest. Robert had taken at least two lives, possibly three, and it seemed he would get away with it. “What if he kills again?”
Henry leaned back and met her gaze. “Let’s hope he doesn’t have cause to.” Dipping his head, he kissed her softly, slowly, with the sort of tenderness that made her focus on him alone. His hands pressed firmly against her back, imparting warmth and strength.
The day of the trial came more quickly than Viola would have liked. She shivered as she stepped outside with Henry and climbed into the carriage that would take them to the courthouse. Gray clouds the color of her eyes covered the sky. A light drizzle dampened the air. Since their wedding, they’d met with Steadford each day to discuss the case. During one such meeting, Henry had suggested that he could settle Viola’s debt now that they were married.
“I cannot ask that of you,” Viola had told him. “It’s too much.”
“There’s no such thing as too much when it comes to protecting you,” Henry had assured her. He’d looked her straight in the eye then and said, “I have the necessary funds, Viola. If you allow me, I might be able to make this entire case against you go away.”
She’d eventually agreed because she’d sensed how important it was for Henry to protect her to the best of his abilities. So Steadford had taken the deal to Hayes, who’d passed it on to his client. But Robert had refused it. He only wanted the hospital and the rejuvenation center, since losing these was more likely to hurt Viola than a dent in Henry’s coffers.
“We will get through this,” Henry assured her as the carriage rolled toward the courthouse. “No matter what happens, we still have each other.”
There was strength to be found in those words and in the kiss that followed. It helped expel some of the anxiety Viola harbored, allowing her to hold her head up high when they arrived at their destination and she was forced to face the waiting journalists.
“Is your second marriage as beneficial to you as your last?” one man asked as he fell into step beside her.
