“Nothing,” she answered, though she did not meet his eyes. Then she squared her shoulders. “We cannot see Father yet. The body has not been prepared.”
“And his lady wife?” Geoffrey said with a sneer. “Has she been taken by the authorities yet?”
The pair looked at Lucas. He took a moment to draw out his pronouncement, relishing his words. “No one suspects her.”
Geoffrey’s eyes widened, and he looked to his sister, the one he’d already prepared to push Diana as the perpetrator. But before he could say anything, Penelope finally got her nerve. She faced her brother and said in a low tone that everyone could hear.
“Did you do it?”
Her brother strode forward, his legs covering the ground with shocking speed. Penelope squeaked in alarm as she leapt backward from him. Clearly, she was used to her brother’s temper. Fortunately, Lucas had been prepared. While Penelope cringed against her husband, Lucas stepped directly into Geoffrey’s path.
“There will be no more violence done in this household,” he said.
Well, maybe just a little more. He saw Geoffrey’s punch coming. The man was not a skilled fighter, and Lucas had ample time to avoid the blow. But Geoffrey did not have the capacity to hit very hard, and Lucas needed witnesses to say the blackguard had attacked first.
He let the blighter hit his jaw hard enough to bruise but not break anything. Penelope screamed, and her husband gasped in shock, while Lucas grabbed Geoffrey’s arm. And when Geoffrey kicked out as every inexperienced fighter did, Lucas tipped him over such that his face landed hard on the rug. Then he held onto the man’s wrists and waited for Geoffrey to exhaust himself from squirming and cursing.
He heard the knocker sound and guessed it was the solicitor. He didn’t bother to take his attention off of Geoffrey. He leaned down and spoke hard into the man’s ear.
“You’re beaten,” he said softly. “Run to the colonies if you want to avoid hanging. I won’t allow you to live any closer.”
The man reacted with more curses and threats. Lucas didn’t bother listening. He heard much more inventive ones at the Lyon’s Den. And the more insanely violent Geoffrey looked, the easier it would be to prove his crime in court. What he didn’t expect was the high-pitched scream that cut through the room. It wasn’t Diana, but it was startling, and his head jerked up as he scanned the room.
And then a cold sweat broke out on his brow. Of all the ways for this to happen, he had not wanted it while brawling on the parlor floor. And yet, he would not let Geoffrey up. Not until the man calmed down. So he stayed where he was, waiting for a pause in the man’s continuing diatribe so he could speak into the silence. It took another minute. Geoffrey, apparently, knew a lot of ways to insult his parentage. And then—as Geoffrey drew breath—Lucas finally spoke.
“Hello, Mother, Father. I had not expected you to find me so quickly.”
That should have been dramatic. His mother was the one who had screamed. She was now leaning heavily on his father, who frowned down at his son.
“What are you doing?” his father demanded. “That is not appropriate behavior. Release him this instant.”
Such was the power of his childhood that he felt the impulse to obey. He didn’t. He wasn’t a boy anymore. “I’m afraid I can’t,” he said. “Not until he calms down enough to not kill his sister.” He glanced at Lady Beddoe to make sure that she remembered her brother had been coming for her. Apparently, she did because she shrank even further behind her husband.
“Don’t be ridiculous,” his father continued. “No one is going to kill anyone.”
And wasn’t that the sin of the civilized elite? They just didn’t believe what they didn’t want to know.
“On the contrary,” came Diana’s voice from the stairs. “I’m afraid there has already been one murder in this house, and your son is acting most appropriately.”
Lucas grimaced. “You were supposed to be resting,” he said.
“And miss all the punching and screaming?” She walked the rest of the way down the stairs. She appeared composed as she moved, though he saw the dark smudges beneath her eyes. “Simpson, where is the constable?” she asked with weary patience. “I would think the screaming would have drawn him out.”
“It did, my lady,” said the man as he stepped out of the shadows. “But his lordship had things well in hand.”
“And do you?” she asked dryly. “Do you have enough information yet?”
He looked like he wanted to argue, though about what Lucas had no idea. But after taking a thorough inspection of Geoffrey on the ground, he grabbed his hat from the side table. “I believe I do for the moment. There’s a footman who needs talking to. And I may need to ask a few questions of the family in a day or so. After things have been laid to rest, so to speak. If that’s acceptable to you, my lady?”
Lucas could feel Geoffrey grind his teeth in fury, but there was no dignity in spouting insults from his place on the floor. He kept his peace as Diana graciously saw the constable out. Then she turned to the parlor. “Oscar’s body has been prepared.” Her voice trembled a bit as she spoke, but there was no wavering in her stance. “Penelope, you may see him as you wish. Geoffrey—”
“I have no need to see the old bastard, may he rot—”
Lucas raised Geoffrey’s arms enough that the man’s words were choked off.
“Very well,” continued Diana. “The family solicitor is due very soon. I shall await him in the library. You all know the terms of the will. He was most clear.” She looked down at Geoffrey. “If you think he changed his mind about your inheritance, you gave him no reason to.”
Geoffrey was purple with rage. Every time Lucas eased off his arms, the man started cursing loudly. Meanwhile, Diana shook her head.
