“Before we talk about kindness, suppose you explain the attacks on Willowbrook,” Rob said. He leaned over the man, menace in every line of his body. “And I suggest you tell us all of it and quickly.”
“I know nothing of that.”
Rob grabbled the front of his waistcoat and hauled him to his feet. “Care to think again?”
“I had nothing to do with that!” Spittle ran down Spangler’s chin. “I wouldn’t damage the property. Want to live there, don’t I? I would never hurt Miss Whitaker. I want—”
Rob shook him, rattling his teeth and causing his head to snap back and forth.
“Easy, Benson. You don’t want to harm the witness,” the earl murmured, making no effort to stop him.
When Rob dropped Spangler, the solicitor fell into his seat, and Clarion soothed his lapels. The steel in the earl’s eyes and voice didn’t match the gesture. “Tell us everything you know about the threats and sabotage.”
“Nothing! I know nothing.”
“But you suspect much,” Clarion countered.
“Higgins. He did her bidding. Always ran her errands, carried her threats to my doorstep.”
“Who hired Aaron Miller?” Rob demanded.
“I tell you, I don’t know. But Higgins could have. Likely did.” Spangler fussed with his twisted neckcloth.
“It sounds reasonable, Robbie,” Clarion said.
“Now I’m Robbie?” Rob glared at him but let it go. “Reasonable isn’t always true. Did Higgins make the anonymous offer to buy Willowbrook?”
“You said it came from London,” Spangler said. “Beyond Higgins, anyway. It would have been her ladyship. Damned woman tried to outbid me. She knew I wanted it.” He glared up at Rob.
“Why?” Clarion murmured.
“A gift for her beloved son?” Rob said, mockery dripping from his words.
The earl snorted. “Unlikely.”
“Coal,” Spangler said. “She complained you wouldn’t mine Caulfield land. Nattered on and on about it every time I saw her. Called you a fool, going poor with wealth under your feet. ‘A real man would take the money,’ she would say, begging your pardon, my lord. She’s your other offer. I’m sure of it—and probably that surveyor you accused me of sending, too.”
This time, Rob’s sympathy was undiluted.What a harridan he has for a mother. “And you, Spangler? What did you want to do with it?”
“What do you care, Benson? You want rid of it, and off to London. I want to live there. I wouldn’t damage it, and I wouldn’t harm the lady. I offered—”
Rob’s hand grabbed Spangler’s neck before either man could blink. “You will not approach Lucy Whitaker again or even mention her name. The next time you do, I will squeeze the life out of you.” He punctuated his words by tightening his grip. When he let go, Spangler sank back, gasping for air.
“Try not to murder the man in front of the magistrate,” his brother murmured.
The earl spoke after a pause. “Howard Spangler, I’m detaining you for fraud. Additional charges depend on what we learn from your coconspirators.”
“Can you manage this worm? I need Goodfellow at Willowbrook.”
“I’ll have him confined in the locked storeroom in the cellar for now. We may need to question him again once we have the others.” Clarion’s voice came cold and hard as if ice shards lodged in his heart.
*
Lucy left CaulfieldHall, a borrowed horse beneath her, Goodfellow at her side, and resentment in her heart.
David and Rob had given her and Maddy the briefest of reports about Spangler, one the men so obviously edited to spare the tender sensibilities of ladies that it forced Maddy to give David a sisterly dressing down. Their words left Lucy bristling with questions. Rob ignored her attempt to ask them and informed her she would go back to Willowbrook under escort. His high-handed order that she stay inside and go nowhere alone infuriated her.
The beast! What gives him the right?
