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Fifteen

“The ultimate value of life depends upon awareness and the power of contemplation rather than upon mere survival.”

Aristotle

When Aidan reached the Smythe home, ensuring he came in a good half hour after Smythe, it was to be met with another letter. Stalking over to the little drawing room off the entry hall, Aidan quickly unfolded the note to see what hellish report he was to receive.

After we left RH last evening, it happened again. Michaels is injured, but the doctor assures me he will recover.

Filminster.

Aidan’s vision turned red as rage rushed through him. The butler had saved Lily’s life! And if Lily had been at Ridley House, she could have been hurt or killed, being such a tiny little thing!

Smythe was behind it! Aidan knew this was the truth. There was no other explanation for what he had witnessed this afternoon nor for the bills of sale he had found in Smythe’s desk.

Aidan’s hands were shaking with fury as he crumpled the page in his hand, attempting to quell the hot emotion causing his heart to race. He was panting with the sheer outrage that the killer was only dozens of feet away and he could do nothing about it.

It was beyond the pale! Completely untenable!

He stood here, helpless, while his family and their close connections were under attack.

The more he tried to hold his temper at bay, the hotter it simmered—boiled—until the appalling dishonor of this disastrous farce caused his feet to turn toward the door. In a blinding anger, Aidan stormed down the hall to throw open the door to Smythe’s office.

His father-in-law’s head shot up in surprise, then he frowned in confusion when he saw Aidan standing in the doorway.

“May I help you, son?”

Aidan stepped in, closing the door behind him with deliberation. It was time to end this, but there was no need for Gwen to overhear this confrontation.

“I know what you have done.”

Smythe blanched before his eyes, and Aidan knew he had him cornered. He walked forward into the room, coming to a stop midway to glower at Smythe over his desk.

His father-in-law got to his feet. “I can explain.”

Aidan could not believe his ears. The reprobate was admitting it yet thought that Aidan would stand by him. “You can explain! Have you gone mad, sir?”

Smythe raised shaking hands to run them through his graying hair, his blue eyes stark in a face that had lost all color. “I beg of you, there is no need for this to get out. Not yet.”

Aidan again could not believe what he was hearing. The man had no conscience. “I am afraid there is no delaying the news that you killed a man.”

Smythe’s jaw dropped open. “I did what?”

It was then that Aidan heard a rustle behind him.

Turning around, the horror of finding Gwen standing at the terrace doors swept through him in a wave. Seeing her red hair lit from behind, the sun peeking through the clouds for the first time that day, she was a glorious angel, and Aidan realized in that moment that his Venus had stolen his very heart from his chest the very first night he had met her. Which was unfortunate because her face was hard and pale as her expression firmed into a ferocious glare.

“What is he talking about, Papa?” Gwen’s glare never wavered, even as she addressed her words to Smythe.

“I … do not know. Who is it that I am supposed to have killed?”

Aidan swallowed. Losing his temper, and storming in here without a plan, just might be the costliest mistake he had ever made.

Ever.

He was supposed to have handled this with finesse. To ensure Gwen was not heartbroken in the process. To be here to support her when she learned the truth about her father.

All of which was currently a moot point.