Page 90 of A Perfect Gentleman

“Sounds like an armed camp.”

“Hopefully whoever is doing this will realize that. Still, I’d feel better knowing you were at least close by and checking on things every now and then.”

“I will. But you’ll pardon me if this seems rather ludicrous. Why would anyone want to kill Lady Montclair?”

“I think it has to be because of that blasted charity.”

“Your father’s fund for wounded soldiers?”

“Yes. I told you we’ve been digging into that.”

“What have you found out?”

“Nothing. At least, nothing that indicates anything other than that my father embezzled money from it and repaid it. In fact, I was about ready to give up the project when someone gave Abby a push on the stairs. I have to wonder if we found something and just didn’t realize it. Maybe one of the people we’ve talked to is the culprit, and he’s afraid we’ll figure it out.”

“But why your wife? Why wouldn’t they go after you?”

Graeme shook his head. “I don’t know. Perhaps because she’s an easier target than I? Maybe they think I’ll stop looking if something happens to her.”

“Or maybe it isn’t this embezzlement story at all. What if it’s because she saw Baker was shot?”

“The shooter is afraid she could identify him? I suppose it could be, though how she could identify someone at a distance in the dark—and behind her, as well—I cannot imagine. I’ll hire a detective to look into Baker’s affairs, see if he can find anyone who might have had a reason to kill him. Scotland Yard certainly hasn’t seemed to come up with anything.” Graeme frowned. “What I wonder is . . . maybe it’s someone Abby knows and I don’t. He could be worried that at some point she will realize he’s to blame.”

“Why would she know anyone involved with the fund or Baker? She’s been in the States for the past ten years.”

“Maybe he’s not English.” Graeme looked at him intently. “Maybe it’s David Prescott.”

“Who?” James’s blank expression cleared. “You mean the American? The chap who gave you a black eye?”

“He took me by surprise,” Graeme muttered. “But yes. That one. Prescott was here ten years ago. I don’t remember him, but he told me he worked for Thurston Price. We know the sort of man Thurston was. What if Thurston set up the embezzlement himself? He would know it would give him the leverage to make me do what he wanted. Maybe Thurston had Prescott steal the money and make it look as if Father was to blame. Prescott is in Abby’s confidence. She may have told him about Baker, and he realized that Baker could implicate him. So he followed her and shot the man before he could tell her anything.”

“But the two of you started investigating anyway, so there was still the possibility he could be exposed.”

“Exactly. He could be charged with embezzlement, and even if he were not, it would cause a scandal. Worst of all, Abby would discover the sort of man he is.”

“But would he kill your wife? I thought you were certain Prescott was in love with Lady Montclair.”

“I’m sure he is. But men have been known to kill the women they love. Prescott was the one who urged Abby to seek a divorce, I’m sure. But she didn’t. Instead she came to me. Now she’s carrying my child. He’s jealous. He’ll never have her. He knows Abby’s nature; she will remain here, however little feeling she has for me. So he decides that if he can’t have her, no one will.”

“Seems to me it would be more to the purpose to kill you.”

“He might presume it would be more difficult to kill me. Besides, even if he got rid of me, I think he’s come to realize Abby isn’t going to marry him. She is his friend, but she doesn’t love him.”

“Graeme . . . are you sure you wouldn’t rather be the one to take Lady Montclair to Lydcombe?”

“Of course I—” Graeme started explosively, then cut himself off. In a more even voice, he went on, “It isn’t a question of what I would rather. It’s what Abigail wishes.”

“She wants to be away from you?”

“I think you’ll find not many people want to live with someone they think is trying to kill them.”

“You can’t convince her it’s not true?”

“I’m not going to grovel.” Graeme folded his arms, glowering. “How could I live with a woman who has so little understanding of me, so little faith, as to think I could try to murder her? Besides, there’s no reason any longer for us to be together. She wanted a child and now she’s going to have one. Hopefully it will be a boy and I’ll have my heir. Everyone is happy.”

“Yes, I can see how delighted you are,” James agreed drily. “Very well. I’ll say nothing more. I am scarcely one to give advice to the lovelorn. I shall escort Lady Montclair—both of them—to Lydcombe. And I will ride over to see them every few days. Though I do trust that at some point my exile will be over.”

“It will. Trust me.” Graeme’s jaw tightened. “I’m going to find who’s doing this. And put an end to him.”