A Lady's Vanishing Choices (19 page)

He stared down at her, gave a negative shake of his head, and sighed with resignation.

She accompanied him to the attics and helped dig through the trunks until a suitable riding habit was discovered. The burgundy color enhanced Bethany’s complexion and dark hair to perfection. The habit was a bit old-fashioned, but she quickly donned the selected garment and smiled her thanks at Royce.

Some while later, the couple headed for the stables. He deliberately chose a docile old mare, suitable for an inexperienced rider, and lifted her into the saddle. When Royce and his bride rode toward Birdelwood Manor, Bethany’s litany of complaints shrieked through his mind. Shame washed his face with color.

He came full circle back to the crux of the matter. Perry had wanted Bethany, and she had been the bone of contention between them. Even the quarrel that preceded his brother’s flight from the house had been over Bethany.

Resentment flared. He couldn’t blame his own selfish behavior on her, but it rankled. Perry might still be alive if Royce had stepped aside. Instead, he had stepped to her side. That thought tormented him. All of that stirred and whirled until he felt he must soon go insane. Why couldn’t he let it go? He had no answer, but he must set it aside. Bethany’s safety came first.

The wide-open expanse of grass stretched across the meadow. A bright blue sky with a few fluffy clouds forecast a lovely day.

“Thank you, Royce. I love riding with you.”

The path passed close to a large patch of shrubs. Without warning, a covey of quail flushed and took flight. The mare skittered sideways and then bolted across the wide, green field.

Caught by surprise, it took Royce a moment to reach her side. As he approached, the girth on her saddle snapped, and Bethany started to tumble down, gripping the saddle. With a super human effort, he managed to wrap one long arm around her and pull her across his lap in one motion.

“Are you injured?” He tightened the reins until his steed came to a standstill.

“I don’t think so.” Bethany trembled as she clung to his broad shoulders. “I need a moment to compose myself.”

Royce steadied Bethany and dismounted with her in his arms. “Allow me to place you in the shade while I catch the mare.”

Royce stood Bethany on her feet beneath the near-by branches of a birch and strode toward the animal.

The mare stood, eyes walling in fright and blowing through extended nostrils with the saddle under her belly. Royce called to the horse, soothing and coaxing her not to bolt. When he finally righted the saddle, he cursed under his breath. The girth had been cut. Curst villain, no wonder it snapped. Every nerve in his body chilled. He uttered a savage oath. Rage shook him and his heart beat a heavy tattoo against his chest. In his arrogance, he’d assumed she would be safe married to him. Not so. This was her mare and her saddle, the newest lady’s saddle in his tack room. Blithering idiot!

Chapter 22

Royce clenched his jaw when his mount stumbled. Glancing at the ground, he guided his horse around a hole in the path and tightened his hold on Bethany. With her mare tied behind his horse, he had to remain more observant if he didn’t want to subject her to another mishap. Alert now, questions continued to bombard him. What knowledge did she possess that she hadn’t shared with him?
Why does someone want to silence her so desperately, and what does that someone hope to conceal by her death?
Was she duplicitous in whatever event triggered these attacks?

He wanted to shake her until she understood her peril and answered his questions. With her life in grave danger, she must listen to reason and tell him all she knew. There seemed to be little love lost between her and the Littleton family, so he couldn’t imagine why she would keep quiet.

He reined his horse to a halt at the front of the house and lifted Bethany down, holding her until she could stand on her own. He sent the footman round to the stables with the animals and cupped Bethany’s elbow. He guided her towards the side parlor. “We must talk.”

Pulling the cord for a servant, he seated himself in the adjacent chair to Bethany. A maid peered into the room and he ordered, “Tea served in here.” The servant softly closed the door behind her when she departed.

He subjected Bethany to a steady perusal before he demanded, “Why is someone so desperate to silence you? You must have some idea.” A savage thread ran through his tone and he did nothing to soften it.

She ducked her head and refused to meet his eyes. “I tried to tell you more than once. You wouldn’t listen.”

He threw up his hands and asked, “When?”

“You came to Birdelwood Manor to visit Eleanor on the first occasion.” She glanced up at him and quickly averted her gaze. “I tried to engage you in conversation to tell you, but you brushed me aside.”

Royce groaned under his breath. He never dreamed giving her the cut direct would have led to such dire consequences. Trying to distance himself from his overwhelming attraction to her had proved to be a mistake. One he regretted. All he could do now was discover the truth regardless of where it might lead. “I apologize for my rude behavior. Not an acceptable excuse, but I had other matters on my mind.”
Like not falling for you, yet here I am at your feet.

“I tried to tell you a killer wanted to murder me, but you scoffed at the notion.”

“I never dreamed you were referring to an actual fact. Being anxious about your condition clouded my mind.” He tilted her chin and stared directly into her eyes. “You’re not mixed up in any of Arthur’s schemes are you?”

“Schemes? What sort of schemes?” She cut a look at him from the corner of her eye.

“Anything dangerously dishonest or even treasonous?”

“Certainly not. He keeps a separate record of his own finances, but I suspect he does so to hamper my ability to present an accurate account. I’m then responsible for any mistakes.”

“Hardly a reason for your demise, is it?” He drilled her with an intense stare. Some emotion flickered in her eyes, and she glanced down at her hands folded in her lap. “You know something. What secret are you hiding?”

The time had arrived for her to convince Royce about the killer burying the body. Holding his stern regard with a stare of her own, she said, “The whole thing started the day I met you.”

“Are you referring to the day you nearly ran me down with the gig?”

She bobbed her head and swallowed. “I’ll admit I drove a little recklessly that day. I was terrified the murderer would catch me.”

His stare became stern as he commanded, “Let us start this again. Not in the middle where I suspect we’ve been. When did you meet a murderer?”

With her fingers trembling against her lips, she continued, “My aunt and uncle always maintain I have an excess of sensibility. That day I did. I borrowed the gig while Uncle Arthur was away, and set out to clear my head of my aunt’s ranting. Without aiming for the spot, I drove the gig to a place I remembered from my childhood.”

When she paused, he encouraged, “Go on.”

“I witnessed a man carrying a bundle over his shoulder. He had a shovel in his hand too. He dropped his burden on the ground.” She caught a ragged breath. “The roll was large enough to hold a body. The shape of the bundle gave the suggestion of a corpse bent at the hips and flung over his shoulder. I think I caught a glimpse of fingers—only the tips—sticking out of one end.”

Leaning forward with a hand on one knee, his probing gaze remained fixed on her face. “So you don’t know for certain?”

She shook her head.

“What happened then?”

“I wanted to run, but I didn’t. I wanted to believe he was unaware of my presence. I very carefully retraced my steps ever so slowly. But now, perhaps he did know. Perhaps he’s the one who wants me silenced so no one will discover his foul deed.”

“Have you told anyone else this tale?” he demanded.

Shaking her head, she answered, “Only, Maggie. She said I should tell you, even back then.” Bethany glanced away. “I suppose I was frightened. Afraid Uncle Arthur would convince everyone I made the entire thing up to gain attention.” Just above a whisper, she added, “I was afraid he would send me to Bedlam. I’m not insane, but who would believe me?”

His stomach churned with emotion. He gathered her in his arms and said, “Bethany, Bethany, what am I going to do with you? I shall guard you with my very life if necessary. I’ll never let him threaten you again. He cannot send you to the insane asylum now or at any time in the future. You belong to me—my wife. When will you learn to trust me?”

“I do trust you.” She drew a deep breath. “I guess I hoped it would all go away, so I did nothing.”

“If there is a murderer, don’t you understand the villain may kill again? You must realize you’re not safe if a killer is running loose?” He would be devastated if anything happened to her. Giving her a final hug, he allowed her to draw back and look into his face. “Besides, I hold the authority of the law until the recommendations can be considered. It’s my duty to inspect the body and to apprehend the criminal.”

She sighed and asked, “What would you have me do?”

“First of all, describe him. Every detail.”

“I don’t recall much. Mostly I remember I fought to hold my breath so he couldn’t hear me.”

“Start with his clothes.”

“He wore a hat so I couldn’t see his hair. I recall a hunting vest over a fine, lawn shirt.” With a stricken expression, she stared at him. “A gentleman’s shirt. I realize now. And there was something sticking out of the pocket of his vest. It was yellow.”

“How tall? Was he fat, thin, what?”

“He was tall, almost as tall as you. Of average build, I would think. Nothing else,” she stammered.

With an impassive expression, he said in a soft voice, “You know you must show me the spot.”

“No, Royce,” she cried. “It was horrible. I never want to go back there again.”

“Bethany, running from a problem never solved anything. It’s always there, hovering over you.” He caught her hands in his. “I’ll be there beside you. I shan’t let anything happen to you. I promise.”

The distress on her face gave him pause. He wanted to draw back, but he couldn’t. This must be settled. He needed every scrape of evidence he could collect if he was to succeed.

She pulled her hands away. “I still have nightmares about that day, even now. You’re a heartless beast to force me to see it all again.”

“I know it’s harsh and I apologize,” he comforted. “Still, it must be done. When this is settled, we’ll make a dash to London, a bridal trip of sorts. We shall purchase a new wardrobe for you. See the sights. Even visit the Grand Spectacles and Equestrian Displays if you please. Perhaps visit the Royal Circus as well.” He adored the sparkle in her eyes and wanted to add to it. “Best of all, I intend to take you to the theater. Would you like that?”

“Wonderful, Royce. I can’t wait. When?”

He leaned back in his chair and gave her an apologetic smile. “After you take me to the gravesite.”

“Oh Royce.”

“I did mention after this affair is settled.” He grimaced, hating to cause her distress, but there seemed little else he could do. “The remains must be recovered at once before more bodies appear. The longer I delay, the less likely it is that I’ll catch the killer. I’ll inform John and recruit his help.”

She huffed out a breath and scowled at him while he strode to the door. He added, “We leave within the hour. That should give me an opportunity to arrange things.”

Royce headed down the hall, and at that moment, the knocker sounded. He hesitated, waiting for the butler to open the door.

Ed entered when the butler moved aside. “Mornin’, Ye Lordship. Maggie says greetin’ to ye and our girl. Beg pardon, her ladyship.”

Royce returned the greeting, “Good day.” He smiled a welcome. After all, this man had been the closest thing Bethany had for a father figure. “I believe my wife is still in the parlor.”

Ed circled his hat in his hand. “Ye Lordship, if ye can spare a minute, it’s ye I need to be seein’.”

“Certainly. Let’s step into my library.” Royce led the way and motioned to a chair. He sank into one facing the seat he offered to his guest.

Ed plopped down where Royce indicated. He cleared his throat and said, “Me not bein’ a body that’ll waste ye time, I decided to cast the thing before ye for ye to judge.”

Royce kicked back in his chair and folded his arms across his waist. “Excellent, my good fellow. Let’s hear what you have to offer.”

Ed straightened in his chair. “Could be important, or not. Anyways, me and the doc got to jawin’, blowin’ a cloud together. Natural the murder come up. He pointed out that Sir Perry died from wounds in his chest.”

Royce’s impatience nearly got the best of him when Ed rattled through a litany of known information.

“Doc says tweren’t no ordinary knife what done him to death. Five sharp, little wounds in the chest done the trick. They was done by a wicked blade wot’s really a sword stick.”

“You’re positive?” Royce leaned forward in his chair, his eyes locked with Ed’s.

“Certain as may be. Doc bein’ somewhat surprised, it bein’ a gentleman’s weapon and all. Seemed like a thing a body needs to know.”

“Indeed. Why wasn’t I informed immediately? I’m the Lord Lieutenant of the county as well as Perry’s brother.” His chest tightened, and he swallowed to dislodge the lump of misery in his throat.

Ed shrugged. “I’m a thinkin’ the doc was awaitin’ for ye to come out of the dismals first. To clear ye head so’s ye would take heed.” He eyed Royce from under his brows. “And what with the marryin’ and all, the time jus flew by.”

Royce ducked his head in a nod. “As you say, I wasn’t fit for much those first few days.” He straightened in his chair. “I’m fully in charge of all my facilities now, and I thank you for coming to me with this piece of information. I’ll ask the doctor for a full explanation. I need every bit of evidence I can collect.”

“Doc says nobody made no inquiries about such,” Ed explained and rose to his feet. “If it helps, I’m pleased.”

Royce stood up as well. “Most helpful. If you remember anything else, please let me know.”

“Glad to help. I won’t be wastin’ no more of ye time then. Good day to ye.” Ed strode from the room.

“Blast and damn,” Royce uttered with a vicious swipe at the items on his desk. Having missed the inkpot, he sent a stack of papers flying to the floor. He ignored the mess and sank back into his chair. Staring unseeingly at the wall, he cursed himself anew for not taking up the investigation at once instead of wallowing in grief and self-pity.
Well, I can certainly do something about it now.

Royce bolted out of the chair and headed down the hall again. A gentleman’s weapon—that phrase kept circling through his mind. Bethany had mentioned a gentleman’s shirt as well. Perhaps both were connected. His pulse quickened at the thought, and he walked a little faster.

Nearly an hour later, Royce helped Bethany into his gig. Jem stood at the head of the horse. “Come along, young fellow. Lady Rivton needs someone to wait with her while I’m about my business.”

Jem hopped on the back as Royce whipped the reins. The gig pulled out with John and Sir Blair following in the wagon necessary to transport a corpse.

Royce shook his head at himself. Was this a wild goose chase? Bethany had withheld vital information from him before. Could she actually be a part of a crime against her will? She wasn’t a murderer. She didn’t have it in her, but someone certainly wanted her dead because she knew too much. He hoped this would settle a few questions.