The Notorious Widow (27 page)

“A charge has been made,” said Rankin slowly. “I cannot dismiss it without examining the evidence.”

Blake relaxed. “Mrs. Green’s staff overheard her conversation with Parrish. She had previously told the same tale to her housekeeper. Colonel Bangor, Squire Hawkins, and Squire Pott were among those in the White Hart taproom when Seabrook arrived that evening. Jasper, Colonel Bangor, and Nigel West were playing cards. The colonel is unable to answer questions right now, as you know, but Squire Pott recalls that West tried to withdraw from the game several times. Jasper convinced him to remain.” He had spoken to Pott on his way to Rankin Park.

“He could have left if he’d really wanted to,” muttered Jasper.

“I did not suggest otherwise,” said Blake smoothly. “I am merely setting the scene. Parrish arrived during the last hand, his conversation clearly audible at the table you shared with Bangor and West. Pott also heard their words. Bangor sat out the last hand, for you offered West a double or nothing chance to recoup heavy losses. You won everything he had, including the estate on which you now live.” He flicked a glance at Rankin, satisfied to note the man’s frown, then returned to Jasper. “All the men agree that Seabrook chastised you for not ending the game sooner. He believed that a true gentleman would never have suggested that last bet.”

“He insisted,” snarled Jasper. “He knew quite well what he was risking.”

“That is beside the point, though Pott’s memory is rather different. You were already seething over Parrish’s attempt to punish you for your reprisals, so when Seabrook labeled your behavior ungentlemanly, you vowed that he would regret interfering.”

Jasper shrugged.

Rankin’s eyes revealed new anger.

“As you strode toward the stables, you uttered further threats against Seabrook and his prized horses. Colonel Bangor and Squire Hawkins overheard you.”

“Impossible. They stayed in the taproom.”

Blake smiled. “No, they did not. They were barely ten feet behind you. Drink made you careless, so your voice carried.”

“Everyone grumbles when angry. No one takes it seriously.”

Rankin nodded.

“Agreed. I doubt anyone is immune from angry outbursts,” said Blake. “But you took it further. You had ordered the White Hart grooms to keep your horse ready that night – a common demand whenever you suspected you might need a speedy exit. By the time you entered the stable, you were plotting in earnest.”

Jasper snorted.

“Unbeknownst to you, a groom overheard every word. He tried to speak up when he arrived at the accident scene the next morning, for the tracks on the muddy road clearly showed your attack, but no one listened. By the time they returned to town, he’d had time to remember your habits, so he kept quiet for fear of reprisals.”

Rankin’s frown deepened as he gazed at his son.

Blake continued. “You took the south road out of Exeter when you left the stable.”

“That is not a road that leads here,” said Rankin.

“He lies,” snapped Jasper.

“Hawkins watched you leave as he waited for his carriage.” He switched his gaze to Rankin. “There is no doubt he took the south road. He probably waited in that copse half a mile out of town, for Seabrook did not spot him until he raced up from behind and jerked away the ribbons. Then he whipped the horses into a frenzy, slashing at their legs. Naturally, they bolted. Twice over the next quarter mile, they slowed. Each time, he returned, slashing at the horses until they finally veered into the ditch. The curricle overturned, killing Seabrook and fatally wounding Parrish.”

“They weren’t supposed to die,” Jasper swore, then choked when he realized what he had said.

“My God!” Rankin blanched.

“I didn’t do anything,” shouted Jasper, jumping to his feet. “We were all shocked at their deaths. That’s all I meant. No one is supposed to die driving home after an evening with friends.”

“Sit down,” Rankin ordered. “Have you more evidence, my lord?”

“Parrish’s last words, which describe the repeated attacks of the horseman. He tried to name Jasper, but lost consciousness. But his words echoed in Berens’s head. Whether he recognized their meaning at once or only realized it after Jasper threatened him, I don’t know. But within the week, he knew his peril. For his protection, he told everyone he knew that the Frenchman had caused the accident, then took the extra precaution of locking himself in his house. His housekeeper heard him repeating Parrish’s dying words over and over. And she saw Jasper approaching the house just before the fire started.”

“Lies!” shouted Jasper. “All lies. You’ve heard Berens’s stories, Father. He swore it was the Frenchman’s ghost.”

Rankin shook his head. “You forget that I was summoned when the accident was first discovered. I interviewed Berens while others retrieved the bodies. He repeated Parrish’s words, but said nothing of ghosts. That story did not begin until later. If Parrish had been less crazed from pain, we would have paid more attention, but he seemed to be raving. Now I know he was not. He tried to tell Berens to ask Mrs. Green about the cat, and he claimed that West had been forced into that game. But we did not understand.” He let out a long breath. “I have overlooked your arrogance for too many years, Jasper.” His voice broke. “I should have taken you in hand after your first tutor swore you’d pushed him down the stairs. But I let Mrs. Telcor convince me he’d lied to cover drunkenness. I am as responsible for staining our name as you, for it was easier to ignore you than to train you properly.” He turned to Blake. “Did he mean to kill Seabrook that night?”

“I don’t believe so. He had previously employed intimidation, using schemes that inflicted severe and lasting pain on his victims. He meant to cripple or destroy Seabrook’s horses, but he pushed too far and killed the men instead. Berens was deliberate, though. I cannot ignore that.”

Rankin shakily drained his wineglass. “You have placed me in an untenable position, Rockhurst,” he said on a sigh. “How can I bind over my only son? Conviction would demand hanging. Seabrook was a lord.”

“Father!” Jasper’s face turned white.

Blake frowned, pretending to consider Rankin’s dilemma. Trying Jasper for murder was not his goal. As he’d told Catherine, the evidence was too weak to assure a conviction. Seabrook had been too drunk that night to control his team even without Jasper’s attack. And Mrs. Stevens had not seen nearly as much as he’d implied. Only Jasper’s weak protest had convinced him that the fire was indeed deliberate.

“I have long championed justice, regardless of rank,” he began slowly, watching terror leach the last color from Jasper’s face. “I possess sworn statements from all the witnesses. This is a clear case of a malicious attack that resulted in the death of a lord.”

“But you know his death was an accident,” protested Rankin. “You can hardly call it murder when he did not intend to kill.”

“The law makes no distinction,” Blake reminded him. “He sought to cause harm. His victim died.” He paused to let that sink in, watching Jasper out of the corner of his eye, then nearly smiled. He would wager a monkey Jasper was soiling his breeches. “Ask Jasper if motives matter,” he suggested. “He has avoided paying for his crimes for twenty years by asking people to judge appearances and ignore his real motives.”

Rankin moaned.

“But perhaps we should consider true justice and not just the letter of the law. Seabrook, Parrish, and Berens are dead. No punishment can bring them back. But the wrongs Jasper perpetrated against others can still be set right. If he repairs that damage, perhaps a lesser penalty will suffice. Overseeing your Caribbean estate for ten years might teach him responsibility.”

Rankin slumped in relief. “What must he do?”

“Father!”

“Would you rather stand trial for capital murder?”

Jasper sank back into his chair.

Blake relaxed. “His most recent victim is Mrs. Parrish. While fighting off his unwanted advances, she revealed knowledge of his other crimes. He ruined her reputation so no one would believe her. Since the day William requested my help, Jasper has extended his rumors to include the entire family.”

“Despicable!” Rankin drummed his fingers.

“I agree. He must publicly admit that he started every one of the rumors, that every one is a lie, and that his goal was to discredit her so no one would believe that he killed her father and husband. He must admit that his other attacks were not inadvertent high spirits but deliberate attempts to hurt the victims. And he must repay the damage he has done to those victims. For example, without the income that should have come from those ruined crops, Jones’s family will starve this winter. Jasper’s so-called reparations were an insult.”

“Arbitrating the damage claims will take years.”

“No doubt, but better you than a court.”

He nodded. “I will see that it is done.”

Blake let the subject of reparations drop. They could resume it later. “I will call on Mrs. Telcor tomorrow. If she does not accept the truth, I will give my evidence to another magistrate.” He named a man known for despising arrogant young men.

“Agreed.” Rankin glared at Jasper. “We will visit Mrs. Telcor immediately. A ship leaves Plymouth on Thursday. He will be on it.”

Blake waited until Jasper met his eyes. “If I file these statements with a court, you can never return. No matter how many years pass, you would be arrested the moment you set foot in England. Keep that in mind while making your calls. Even acceding to your father’s honors will not protect you from a murder charge.”

Jasper nodded.

Satisfied, Blake bade farewell to Lord Rankin. With luck, it would be over by morning.

* * * *

“You are free,” he told Catherine in the drawing room before dinner, having described his meetings with Pott and the Rankins.

“Do not celebrate too soon,” she warned. “I know Jasper. He will find a way to twist this to his advantage. And now that he knows his true peril, he will destroy you.”

“I’ve taken steps to deal with every contingency,” he insisted, wondering why she remained wary. “Even Rankin believes him guilty. And Jasper knows that if his confession is inadequate, I can have him tried for murder.”

“It won’t be enough,” she insisted. “The man has an uncanny knack for protecting himself. He has probably warned people that his father intends to disown him or even kill him so the viscountcy can pass to someone else. Whatever he actually says, some will believe that he is caught in a trap and will utter any lie to escape with his life.”

“That is insane!”

“Is it?” She tried to glare, but her gaze softened when it met his. “You agreed that Jasper is unbalanced. If you expect to defeat him, you must think in unbalanced ways.”

“I’m not sure I can.” He examined the wineglass in his hand. “What do you think he will do beyond depicting me as a weak-minded, delusional fool – which he has already done?”

“That I can’t say. But he will do something. You had best be prepared.”

“He is too concerned about his own future to bother with mine,” he insisted.

“Have it your way.” She threw up her arms in exasperation. “But at least do me the favor of saying nothing about this until we learn which of us is right. I’ll not have you raising hopes that will immediately be dashed."

She left him when Mary arrived, giving him no chance to question her further. But his mind fretted as he chatted with William. Her words had made too much sense. Jasper left no insult unavenged. His investigation had been an insult even before today.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

Catherine completed another circuit of the drawing room, then cursed herself. Rockhurst had left for Exeter two hours ago, and no matter how hard she tried, she could not keep hope buried. If anyone found her here, they would know something had happened, but she couldn’t talk about Jasper just yet. The others would assume that Rockhurst had erased the unpleasantness of these past weeks, which would cause more pain when they discovered that little had changed. Doubts would remain in most people’s minds. It was always safer to assume the worst, which was why losing one’s reputation was permanent.

She only hoped that Rockhurst’s own reputation wouldn’t suffer. And maybe suspicion of Laura and Mary was not yet fixed. If they recovered, she would be content.

In the meantime, no one must see her nervous fears, and the best way to accomplish that was to avoid everyone. Mary was with Sarah in the schoolroom. William was meeting with the steward in the library. But the servants were everywhere, and Laura could appear at any time.

Donning a warm cloak, she headed for the rose garden, seeking its peace. Hope had been battering her defenses since last night. If she allowed it free rein, learning that she remained an outcast would destroy her. She could not afford to collapse in front of Rockhurst. He would feel guilty and insist on trying again to redeem her.

But the rose garden proved to be a poor refuge. Not only was it visible from the upper windows, but it was too imbued with Rockhurst. It was here he had kissed her, devouring her in a surge of desire she needed to forget.

So she fled to the orchard. It was a barren place in November, but that was exactly what she needed. A brisk walk would burn off energy, and a brutal reminder of the facts would finally banish hope.

The facts were clear, she insisted, striding through drifts of leaves. Rockhurst did not have enough evidence for an arrest, which Jasper must know. And he was acting hastily, spurred by his need to escape Seabrook before Laura could stage another compromise. When Jasper called his bluff, Rockhurst would lose.

She pulled her cloak tighter as anger replaced her restlessness. If Laura hadn’t pushed him into haste, they would not be facing this disaster. This was not the first time Laura had precipitated a crisis by ignoring potential consequences, though it was by far the worst. Jasper would plant some new calumny before leaving England, and the gullible Mrs. Telcor would spread it far and wide. They would suffer for years to come. Even if people doubted the tale, they would hesitate to accept a Seabrook. It was easier to avoid anyone of questionable virtue.