A Second Chance for Murder (20 page)

It took a moment for Mason’s words to penetrate. When they did, Garren’s mouth dropped. Ignoring the pain in his head, Garren stood up and grabbed the smaller man by his shoulders. “You mean Thora, she not . . . she’s not marrying Flemington?”

“No,” Mason returned with a laugh. “All those times we saw her with Lord Flemington she was just helping the poor sod, him being the bashful type, to get up enough pluck to ask Lady Lauryn to marry him. According to her brother, Lady Thora’s logic was that Flemington couldn’t be the killer of women and at the same time want to propose to one.”

“As investigators, we both could argue that point,” Garren said, receiving a nod from Mason. “And someday soon I’ll have to set Thora right about such foolish thinking, but for now I have a much more important matter to discuss with her.”

Mason gave Garren a knowing grin and watched as the big man unsteadily raced to his bedroom door, opened it, and roared for his butler. When Jasper appeared, Garren started to rattle off instructions. “Jasper, I need you to draw me a bath, then help me to shave. In my present condition, I don’t trust myself with a razor. Then I want you to pack my best clothes and tell the footman to get my carriage ready.”

“You’re leaving again, sir?” Jasper asked, amazed by his master’s remarkable recovery.

“Yes, and while I’m gone I want this house scrubbed and polished from top to bottom. I want it to sparkle like new silver! Send for some flowers. I want flowers in every room. Tomorrow I want to have this room painted and take down these dark curtains. Put up something light and soft, something feminine.”

“But, my lord, you just had this room done,” Jasper exclaimed, obviously bewildered.

“Yes, but that time it was painted for a bachelor. Now I want it fit for a bride,” Garren announced.

At Mannington Manor, Thora and Nyle were seeing the last of their guests slowly depart. The first, and not surprisingly, were the Mayfields. Excitement showed in the eyes of both mother and daughter as they settled into their carriage, and as their carriage rolled away, Thora could see them sitting with their heads together busily making plans for the wedding which was going to be held at Lord Flemington’s estate in a fortnight.

The Mayfields were followed by the Langless family, including their new addition of Sandler Leedworthy. Privately, Lord Langless told Nyle that he had given his permission for Leedworthy to court Floris, but that the courtship would have to last at the very least a year before any proposal of marriage could be made. He wanted to ensure that it was love and not infatuation on his daughter’s part, and Leedworthy agreed to honor the stipulation.

Lord Flemington was the last to leave. He, too, had much to prepare for his upcoming nuptials, but before he departed he strolled with Thora in the garden.

“How can I ever thank you, Lady Thora? Without your help and support I would have never had the courage to ask Lauryn to be my wife.”

Thora smiled. “My dear, Lord Flemington, you can thank me by being a good husband to my friend.”

With his eyes glistening, he picked up her hand and kissed it. Looping her arm in his, Thora escorted him to his carriage. Nyle joined her and they both waved as his carriage drove off.

“He’ll make a good husband,” Nyle commented.

Thora looked at her brother and gave a wistful sigh. “Yes, I’m sure he loves Lauryn very much and will make her very happy.” She turned and started to walk back toward the garden.

“Where are you going?” Nyle called after her.

“Just to pick some flowers,” Thora threw over her shoulder.

Nyle watched his sister as she strolled along the path that led to the garden. He knew that after selecting a choice bouquet, Thora would ride down to the church grounds to place them on Ivey’s grave. He knew in time her visits to the gravesite would become less frequent, especially since Ivey’s murderer, Viscount Simon-North, would soon be wearing a hangman’s noose, but for now it gave her an inner peace that seemed to strengthen her. If only there was a cure for the ache she bore in her heart, but there was only one man who possessed the power to heal it. As he returned inside, he muttered to himself, “What the devil is taking Garren so long?”

As Nyle had thought, Thora, after gathering an armful of fresh flowers, went down to the stables and had one of the grooms saddle her horse. She rode down to the churchyard to visit with Ivey and, as she often did many times before, she sat on the grass talking as if she and her friend were on the back terrace enjoying a lazy summer day sipping sweetened lemon water. She chatted about Floris and Sandler Leedworthy. She confessed her mistake in thinking him a villain, and how she discovered that Leedworthy was indeed a match for Floris. While others considered him a bore, Floris found Leedworthy a fascinating source of knowledge, providing him with what he needed most, someone who listened.

She then told Ivey that Lauren’s wedding would probably be the event of the year. Since her engagement to Lord Flemington and having received a free rein from her intended to splurge on arrangements, Lauryn and her mother had done nothing but draft plans for the wedding. It was obvious that Lord Flemington would make a doting spouse and a very good son-in-law. Then lastly, she told Ivey about the emptiness in her heart since Lord Huntscliff returned to London. She asked Ivey to whisper in an angel’s ear to have Garren come back to her.

On her return to the manor, Thora rode directly to the stables and, after handing her horse’s reins to one of the stable boys, she started toward the house. The fire that Brightington had set had done little damage and repairs were already underway and almost complete. Thora sighed. If only the break in her heart could be mended with such speed.

Leisurely, she started for the house. Her feet came to an abrupt stop when she spotted a carriage at the front steps. Her heart began to race. Could it be? Had Ivey’s angel answered her prayer so swiftly?

Just as she lifted her skirts to sprint, the carriage started to move. Still at a distance from the front of the manor, she strained to see whose carriage it was. Then she saw it on the door, the sign of Orion. Garren! But he was leaving.

“No, wait,” she called out but her words went unheeded.

The carriage rolled on, taking Garren away. Thora forced every muscle in her long, slender legs to run faster, but carriage sped away quickly. She struggled to call out again but couldn’t. Out of breath and her legs aching, she tearfully watched as Garren’s carriage moved further down the long drive. She stared through waterlogged eyes as the carriage grew smaller and smaller. Her shoulders drooped. She had missed her chance to tell him what was in her heart again.

Thora shut her eyes tightly and inhaled deeply. She had to compose herself before she entered the manor as she didn’t want Nyle to witness her anguish. Suddenly, the carriage came to a halt. She could barely believe her eyes when it made a wide, sweeping turn.
Oh, can it be? Yes, oh thank goodness, he is coming back!

When the carriage drew alongside the spot where she was standing, the door opened and a muscular arm reached out and dragged her inside.

Earlier, when Garren had arrived at Mannington Manor, he found himself warmly welcomed by Nyle and the two friends sat down in the study. Nyle offered him a brandy, which Garren vehemently refused.

“I don’t think I’ll be drinking brandy for some time.”

Nyle held back a grin. He had little doubt his old school chum must have seen the bottom of many a glass since his departure. He poured a glass for himself and then sat at his desk. For a long moment, they just stared at each other, but he and Garren had been friends too long for subterfuge.

“Are you in love with my sister?” Nyle’s demanded.

“Yes, very much so,” Garren replied with equal frankness. “Even more so now that I know she has no plans to marry Lord Flemington.”

Nyle gave a relieved sigh. “Good, because it would take a blind man not to see she’s in love with you. I think you better wed soon because I don’t want to spend another day watching her moping about like a lost and lonely puppy.”

“Is the day after tomorrow too soon?” Garren asked, grinning.

“Day after tomorrow,” Nyle exclaimed. “I don’t know if that’s even possible. What about the wedding banns?”

“The bishop is a family friend. I went to see him before leaving London to ask for the wedding banns to be waived. I have his letter here in my pocket,” Garren said, tapping the side of his jacket.

As always Garren was ahead of him. Smiling, Nyle uttered, “Well, I guess the only thing to do now is to propose.”

“Where is my future bride?” Garren asked, rising from his seat.

“She went to the churchyard to put flowers on Ivey’s—”

Before Nyle had finished, Garren was half out the front doors. Nyle called after him, “She should be on her way back!”

“I’ll find her,” Garren threw over his shoulder as he jumped into the waiting carriage, telling his driver to take him to the village churchyard. As the carriage moved down the long drive, something told him to look back. Through the cloud of dust from the spinning carriage wheels, he saw Thora. Immediately, he ordered his driver to turn the carriage around.

After bringing her inside, Garren looked down into her upturned face. Holding the woman he would have traveled the ends of the earth to find, he was ready to tell her all the things he had practiced on his way back from London. But first he wanted her promise. “Thora Mannington, will you—?”

Unexpectedly, Thora covered his lips with her fingertips, stopping his words. “Before you ask me what I think you’re going to ask, there’s something I must know.”

“Anything, darling,” Garren murmured, kissing the tips of her fingers, his deep brown eyes staring intently.

Thora fought to keep her thoughts calm. She had a question that needed answering. “The woman who shot you, the woman you said you trusted.” Lowing her eyes, n Thora asked, “Did you love her very much?”

Silence.

Rallying her courage, Thora peeked up and found Garren leaning his broad shoulders back against the plush green velvet upholstery. He looked struck by her question. Absently he rubbed his chin, and it seemed forever before he answered.

“Was I in love with the woman who almost sent me to an early grave? A widow who was old enough to be my mother who had unwisely taken a young rake for a lover, a man who, in turn, repaid her affection by making off with her jewelry and several other valuable articles? When I collared the scoundrel and brought him back, he threw himself at her feet, begging for her mercy and promising never to do it again. She and I both knew he was lying. He was just a handsome thief without a thread of remorse, but rather than see him go to jail, she shot me. Afterward, I learned that she turned the gun on her lover and finally herself.”

Thora gasped.

Gathering her in his arms, he buried his face in her hair.

“That was when I decided to leave the Royal Guardians as I had grown rather fond of living,” he said.

With the tips of his fingers, he lifted her chin so that she faced him. “Does that answer your question?”

Thora looked at him through eyes puddled with tears. “Yes, darling, but I’m so glad you decided to take on just one more case to solve Ivey’s murder. I shudder to think what would have happened to me if you hadn’t.”

Her hand reached up and drew his head down to meet her lips. Engrossed in a kiss, both failed to hear the door of the carriage opening.

“I take it that it’s a yes?” Nyle said, startling them both.

“Not yet,” Garren muttered, then reached over and shut the door. With a tap on the roof of the carriage, the driver slapped the rein on the horse’s rump and drove off, leaving a chuckling Nyle behind.

“Hurry, because I have arrangements to make!” he shouted.

Taking a small velvet box from his pocket, Garren opened it to reveal a ring, its faceted amethyst stone sitting in a cluster of diamonds. “I picked the amethyst because, according to legend, the amethyst aids the brave and has been known to help the hunter in his captures. Without your revealing how upset Floris was the night of the concert I would have never realized that it was she who’d accidentally caused Cecilia’s death. And when you mentioned how Marquis Brightington told you to be wary of Sandler Leedworthy, it was a lame attempt to cast suspicion on someone other than himself. We made a good team, Thora Mannington, and I would like to make it a permanent union. Will you wear this ring, Thora, and be my wife?”

Thora took the ring he offered. “A very appropriate choice, since the amethyst is also my birthstone,” she said, slipping it onto her finger. “Yes, Lord Huntscliff, I will be your wife.” With a mischievous twinkle in her eye, she added, “And helper.”

They kissed and clung to each other for a very long time, neither one wanting to be the first to break their embrace. It was some time later when Garren gazed out the carriage window and realized they had traveled far from the manor. He ordered the driver to turn around, to which he heard the man grumble, “Make up your mind.”

He inwardly replied that he had made up his mind the very first time he had seen the lovely woman now in his arms.

“The vicar can marry us the day after tomorrow,” he told Thora, which surprisingly didn’t seem to ruffle her. He reluctantly added that he could wait if she needed more time for preparation.

Thora shook her head. “It’s more than enough time. There’s only one thing I will need for my wedding, besides you, of course.” For the time, she found she could speak of Ivey without pain, “Although, I spoke lightly of it at the time, I promised Ivey that on the day of my wedding I would wear the hair comb she had given me. Oh, Garren, I wish you could have met her. She was pretty and fun and such a good friend. Wearing her gift, will make me feel that she’s somehow with me. Do you understand?”

“Yes, darling I do,” he said. “And I hope one day you will share all your secrets with me.” Thora gave him a smile but remained silent causing his brows to furrow. Noticing, Thora laughed, “Oh Garren, a woman may share some secrets, but not all with a man.”