A Convenient Bride (39 page)

R
ichard scowled. “What do you mean, George?”

Finding her voice, Brenna focused on Jace. “George mentioned attending Cambridge a few nights ago, which is why Jace sent Mister Freemont off to Cambridgeshire. Now Jace is convinced he’s the killer.”

“I’m convinced of nothing at this moment. However, I do find the timing suspicious,” Jace said. “A laundress died there at the same time he was in residence. And a maid died the same time he was in Dover.”

“That does not make him a killer,” Brenna insisted. George had always been so kind to her. He was becoming a friend. “The image of him strangling a woman, or many women, does not fit my experiences with George.”

“And he was here at Beckwith Hall during the time of the London murder,” Richard insisted. “He’s lived here for almost three years now, and I have never seen any hint of evil in him.”

Jace and Mister Freemont exchanged a glance. Jace leaned forward and settled his elbows on his knees. He faced Brenna. “There is more. Through the records, Freemont discovered another interesting fact. There was another man you know who was a school chum of your George Bentley.”

“Who?” Richard pressed.

“Clive Everhart.”

Brenna’s body went cold. She began to shake. Clive spent time in her home, ate her food, was around her son. George, too. George played with James, held him, and laughed with her over James’s funny baby antics.

Richard came over and took her hand.

“Calm, love,” he said softly. “None of this means we have a pair of killers in our midst.” But even as he tried to settle her fears, Brenna knew, just knew, that Jace would not be telling them this information if he wasn’t convinced there was some connection between the men and the murders.

Deep inside her, she drew on her strength. She’d not fall apart, not here, not now. “You think it was Mister Everhart in the nursery.” Jace nodded. “And one of the men was Clara’s lover.”

“We think so,” Jace said. “When the laundress was killed, Everhart was suspected of the deed. He’d been seen with her in the village. But his father was a baron with highly placed connections. Without direct proof, the matter was dropped.” He sighed. “Had George not mentioned Cambridge the other night, coupled with Freemont’s knowledge, through the Runners’ investigation, of the similar death in Cambridgeshire, we would never have discovered this connection.”

An arrival of a guard interrupted them. “There is no sign of Bentley,” he said to Jace. “He has slipped away.”

Brenna’s throat tightened. She swallowed past the lump. “He has fled because of me. I overheard you mention Mister Freemont was in Cambridgeshire and told George this afternoon. I did not think it would cause any harm. He was my friend.”

“This is not your fault.” Richard placed his hands on her shoulders. He sent Jace a scathing glare. “Why not tell us of your suspicions earlier? You put us all in danger.”

Jace stood. “You were protected. I made certain of it.” He crossed his arms. “I could not accuse the men of murder without proof. I still have nothing that will see either of them hang.”

Brenna pushed from the chair and went to the window. She ran through her memories of the months she’d spent here at the hall and her time with George.

Was it possible that he had hidden an evil soul? Could she have been so wrong about him?

“Before Freemont’s return, he alerted the Runners to our findings. They have sent men to hunt Clive Everhart. We hope George has not gotten word to him about our suspicions. Everhart is a dangerous man.”

The guard left, passing Lucy in the open doorway. Her eyes widened, falling on Mister Freemont. She glanced then to Brenna and her stricken face. “I have missed something.” She hurried across the room to Brenna. “What has happened?”

“Jace and Mister Freemont think George and Clive Everhart are the killers,” Brenna said.

Lucy twisted to look at Mister Freemont. He nodded. She turned back to Brenna. “I cannot believe that. Not George.”

Jace briefly explained the situation. Lucy went pale. Brenna led her to the settee, and they sat.

“What can I do to help?” Richard asked. The strain of the last hour etched lines around his mouth. “I cannot sit by while George and Everhart are loose to kill again.”

“I agree,” Jace said. “If Everhart has run, we’ll need several men to aid in the hunt.” He turned to Mister Freemont. “Collect six men and have horses saddled. Ask the rest to come into the hall to stand guard. We ride in an hour.”

R
ichard pulled Brenna into his arms and kissed the top of her head. “I will return safely, love.”

“You had better.” She smoothed a wrinkle on his shirt. “James and I need you.” She wrapped her arms around him and felt the pair of pistols in his waistband. There was some comfort knowing he was armed. He’d killed a man once. If need be, he’d do so again.

He tipped her chin up to look into her eyes. “I cannot leave you widowed. There are too many young bucks slavering to get into your bed.”

She smiled. “Remember that, and also take Jace’s experience to heart and keep your head down when the arrows start flying.”

Richard grinned. “I will.” He released her with a last quick kiss, and Joseph helped him into his greatcoat.

Before he could turn and follow Jace out, she caught his
arm and lifted up onto her toes. “I love you,” she whispered, in his ear. “I always have and always will.”

Without waiting for his reply, she walked away.

S
he loved him? In spite of his ill tempers and the shameful way he’d treated her, for several months from their first meeting to their wedding and after, Brenna had fallen in love with him.

Richard watched Brenna take James from Lucy and press kisses on his tiny head. His heart tugged. If he survived this hunt alive, he’d make certain she knew she was loved in return.

For now, he needed to keep his wits about him.

George and Clive were running and desperate. They’d know they were being hunted and would not hesitate to kill their pursuers to stay free.

He left the hall. His horse, and Jones and his men, were waiting on the drive. He mounted, and with one last glance at the hall, they were off.

Richard and Jace led the search. They scoured the forest, the sheep barn, and anywhere they could think of where two men could hide. Nothing led to new clues. “Wherever they are, they will be well hidden,” Jace said.

“Let us check the abbey,” Richard suggested. They hurried down the road. Though there were signs someone had recently visited the stone ruins, a quick scan of the building turned up no one hiding there.

“Boys play knights of the keep in this place,” Richard said, his shoulders tightening with his frustration. “Lovers meet here. If George or Clive passed through, their footprints would mingle with any number of others.”

The men gathered in the overgrown courtyard. “We should spread out and contact your neighbors and give them an update,” Jace said. “Their families and servants need to take shelter in their homes behind locked doors.”

Richard agreed. He gave directions to the men, and each was assigned several neighbors to contact. They rode away.

“I’ll feel more confident knowing everyone in the park is
watching for the men.” He and Jace returned to the road. They met a pair of Bow Street Runners there. The men shared information and separated again.

“There is a place we have not checked,” Richard said. In his haste, he’d forgotten the dower house. “My mother’s dower house is at the far end of the property. Brenna and I found clues that someone was meeting there, lovers most likely. The bed was unmade.”

“Lead on.”

The ride was not long, but they went slow, keeping vigilant. It would be a horrible ending to their search if either or both of them were shot from their saddles.

When they reached the small copse of trees, they dismounted. There was no smoke from the chimney, as the day was warm, and no evidence of either boot prints or horses to show that the house was occupied.

“They would be foolish to hide here,” Jace said quietly. He pulled out a pistol anyway.

“Yes. However, if George and Clive were dim enough to kill Clara near where they resided, we are not dealing with two brilliant men.”

“True. Still, they did get away with murder for ten years,” Jace said. “That could not have been all luck.”

“Then let us find out who is correct,” Richard said.

Richard claimed his own pistol, and they slowly walked up the short drive. Tiny stones shifted under their boots. As silently as was manageable, they neared the dower house. Richard paused. He could not remember if the curtains on the lower level had been open or closed when he and Brenna were there.

“Hold,” he said, and Jace stopped. He ran his mind over the last visit. He was now reasonably certain the curtains were open, as he had no issue with seeing into the empty house when they’d explored it.

“The maids cleaned but would not have closed the curtains,” he said, his voice low. “Someone else has been here.”

He and Jace bent and closed in on the door. “We have surprise working for us,” Jace whispered.

Richard nodded. He reached for the door handle. It was
locked. “Someone is inside.” He stepped back, met Jace’s nod, and kicked the door off its hinges.

A feminine scream pierced the dim interior of the house. He ran up the stairs toward the sound, Jace on his heels.

A shadowy figure met him at the door of the darkened bedroom, an upraised candlestick in his hand. Richard could not get a shot, so he hit the man on the side of the head with the pistol. The attacker crumpled to the floor on his face.

Richard knelt. The man breathed. He knew by the color of his hair that this was neither George nor Clive.

Jace brushed by him and went to the bed. He leveled his pistol on the lone occupant. The woman cried beneath the thin sheet she’d pulled up to her chin. Clearly naked, and on the verge of hysteria, she begged Jace for her life.

“Please do not hurt us,” she said, through sobs. “I have money. I’ll pay you anything you want to leave us unharmed.”

Her voice broke through Richard’s consciousness, and he turned away from the fallen man, blinking to clear the image of the figure on the bed.

“Anne?”

T
he sheet came down enough for Richard to see the tear-streaked face of his sister. Her eyes widened.

“Richard?” Her sobs instantly subsided. Her cheeks flushed, likely troubled to be found naked by her brother, though her attention was on the man on the floor. “What have you done?”

Richard turned and reached for Lockley. Had the man not already been dazed by the pistol blow, he would currently be suffering a beating. He jerked the man to his feet and shoved him onto the bed.

Clad only in trousers, hastily buttoned and partially open, a familiar face showed beneath his disheveled hair and smeared blood trickling down the side of his face from the cut on his temple. Richard froze.

This was
not
Lockley. “Andrew?”

Anne slid over to check his wound, the sheet tangling around her. She brushed his hair out of his eyes and dabbed the cut with a corner of the sheet.

“Of course, Andrew.” She shot Richard an accusing glare. “Are you daft, Brother? Did you honestly think I’d actually marry that horrid Stewart Lockley?”

She cooed and tended the injured Andrew. Richard walked over to stare down at Andrew. Through slit eyelids, his steward stared up at him. Richard felt the hot rage of betrayal.

“I should kill you, you bastard.”

Anne eased Andrew back against the pillows and stood up on the bed while clutching the sheet tightly to her bosom. Her hair swirled around her shoulders and red face. “He is my husband, you idiot. I have not been ruined.”

Jace chuckled and backed out of the room. Richard went over to the nearest chair and slumped onto the stuffed surface.

“How did this happen?” he asked.

Anne climbed from the bed. “I will tell you everything once I am dressed and certain you have not permanently damaged my husband.” She pointed to the door. “Now get out!”

Richard rose, stalked through the house, and went outside to find Jones leaning against his horse, chuckling and shaking his head. Richard’s scowl did not deter the man from his mirth. Instead, it seemed to entertain him further.

“I have never been more grateful that I do not have a sister,” Jace said, and gave the horse a scratch. “Though the surprise on your face when your nearly naked sister told you of the marriage was most entertaining indeed.”

Thoroughly exasperated by recent events, Richard was not in the mind-set to shrug off the other man’s good humor.

“Cease your prattle, Jones,” Richard warned. “Or there will be another murder for the Runners to investigate today.” He collected his reins and swung up into the saddle to what sounded like a cat being strangled behind him.