Gideon felt simply grateful that looks could not kill because if they could, Lady Tavernash’s certainly would. The woman, of course, called Lizzy a liar and denied everything.
Lizzy laughed in her face. “Your nose should fall off for that bouncer. You paid me ten quid and had him take me to Shaftsbury by wagon,” she said, pointing at Jem.
Carter was on his feet, shouting. “You got ten quid and dint hand it over? You run from me? You can’t do that. You’re my daughter. You belong to me.”
Lizzy shrank from him, obviously fearful. She peered around and went to hover near Standish. Gideon’s determination to see Carter transported hardened.
The viscount called for order. In the end, he had Carter removed by two grooms and a footman. He warned Lady Tavernash he would do the same to her if she didn’t quiet down. He called for Jem to testify.
“Mr. Hawkins, I suggest you take this opportunity to tell the truth. We have witnesses to attempted kidnapping and threats of murder already. Are Miss Carter’s words true?”
Jem glanced at Lady Tavernash. “Yes, and that isn’t all.” It all tumbled out then, so much perfidy that not one person even reacted to the revelation that Marshall couldn’t read, so buried was it under extortions, threats, and thievery by the Tavernash pair and Jem. He even admitted vandalizing Gideon’s saddle as part of a campaign to drive him away.
“You have no proof!” Lady Tavernash shouted.
“My lord,” Gideon interjected, “may I suggest that Mr. Marshall and I search the lady’s suite while she remains here?”
She was halfway out of her chair but subsided when Harv and Frank stepped in front of her.
Standish helped Gideon up. “I’ll check that arm before I leave,” he murmured.
Gideon leaned on Mia, and they followed Marshall up to the family wing. What they found exceeded even their suspicions.
Chapter Thirty-Five
Mia stared atthe growing pile on the sitting room table. Silver spoons. A teapot. Mrs. Morrit’s missing master keys. Large amounts of cash.
“Count it, Kendrick. Does it match what was taken?” Marshall asked. He set down a pearl-handled revolver and a long-bladed knife. “I found these in Tavernash’s drawers.”
Mia glanced up. “We haven’t gone through the lady’s drawers yet.”
Marshall pinked up. “I thought maybe you might do that.”
Mia opened a drawer full of shawls and found nothing. In a drawer of delicate and very expensive lady’s unmentionables, she found two packets of letters. There was nothing else.
“You were right, Gideon. Someone did rifle through the family papers.” She spread them out to read. “Oh my!”
“What is it?” Gideon asked.
“Your great-grandfather obtained the services of an inquiry agent in 1783, not long before he died. There being no living sons, the man sorted through his three grandsons, all from different fathers. The son of the oldest had died the winter before. One was deemed ineligible, being from a younger son. The last was found in South Carolina in the army.”
“That would be my father,” Gideon said. “I think that younger cousin died without issue.”
“Yes. Your father was deemed the proper heir and called home. The letter goes on to discuss Tavernash’s grandfather,” she said.
“Not his father?”
“No. His grandfather, apparently a younger cousin ofyourgrandfather. Confusing. This is the interesting part. ‘We are pleased to locate an heir in your direct line. Your brother Roland Tavernash’s line is riddled with questionable marriages.’ It goes on to tell the old duke (your great-grandfather, I think), ‘Your nephew’s marriage is undoubtedly illegal under the marriage act and his son of doubtful parentage.’” Mia wrinkled her nose. “The nephew would be Felton’s grandfather, and the son of doubtful parentage would be Felton’s father.” She grinned at Gideon. “We can see why she stole them from the archives.”
She opened the second one, from the same agent, and laughed out loud. “Your father had his doubts about our Felton also. Apparently, there is—or was—a midwife prepared to swear that Felton was born to one Eunice Battersea two weeks before she married your grandfather’s second cousin and should be in no way considered eligible to inherit.”
Gideon appeared to struggle to take it in. “That may be why the Committee for Privileges is so slow to approve him inheriting his father’s title. Aside from the fact they can’t prove the duke is dead.”
“Perhaps we should share this letter with them,” Mia said, grinning impishly.
“I’ll let you two handle this whole inheritance business. If you don’t mind, we have a viscount waiting to deal with theft, kidnapping, and attempted murder—yours, I might add. I’d like to get to it,” Marshall said.
Mia picked up the letters and kept them to herself. She couldn’t resist letting Lady Tavernash see that she had them while Gideon and Marshall presented the hard evidence from her room before huddling in a whispered conference with Uncle Ludlow.
