Long Live the Baron, page 9
If the girl had been trying to trap him into a marriage, why would she attempt to have Harriet step forward as a witness to his innocence?
The headache came rushing back, and Brendan raised a hand to rub his temple. It never paid off for him to be ill-tempered, but this blasted week had him on edge. Now he had accused a selfless young lady of nefarious intentions, and the embarrassment slammed hard like a blow to his solar plexus. Dragging in a ragged breath, Brendan sought a seat. He dropped into a spindly gilded chair with a loud creak.
“Miss Abbott attempted to have you step forward as an alibi?”
“Miss Abbott! That was her name! Hardly a miss, more of a child muslined up to her chin. I would not leave the house if I were dressed in that peagoose concoction. Quite puritanical, I must say!”
The widow’s laughing chatter grated on his nerves, and he raised his fingers to his temple once more.
“How did you reply to her request?”
Harriet giggled again. “I put her in her place, I will have you know. I told her that if she accused me, I would deny it. She even had the gall to threaten me with your coachman as corroboration, but I pointed out that the only fact that he could attest to was that he had delivered you to her home across the street. I did not state it, but it was clear she would compromise her own reputation if she attempted such a tactic with me.”
Brendan bit back a groan. Apparently, the mystery of Miss Abbott’s decision was revealed. She had reached the conclusion that the only method of assisting him was to pretend he had spent the night with her, rather than with Harriet. Instead of appreciating her integrity in preserving his freedom, perhaps even his very life, he had accused her of deplorable subterfuge.
He had not thought this week could get any worse, but discovering his own perfidy when he had always prided himself on treating people fairly—
“Were you not concerned for me, Harriet? Would you have allowed me to hang?”
The widow had been so self-absorbed, she had barely noticed his reaction, but the question had her leaping to her feet. Rushing over, she grabbed him by both hands. “Of course not, Brendan! I knew you would find a solution. You are an intelligent man with powerful connections.”
So, yes. The widow would have carried on with her meaningless pursuits while I was tried and hung.
Brendan recalled how he had questioned his life choices when he had found the baron’s body. Since then, he had convinced himself that Harriet cared for him more than he had postulated in the distress of that moment. That she had simply been unaware of his predicament.
The truth was now revealed, and he had to admit that the one person who had risked everything to save him was a young girl who barely knew him. Miss Abbott was a warrior. A woman of integrity. Willing to act on behalf of a veritable stranger. Lord Moreland’s decision to allow his daughter to exert her will regarding her future now made perfect sense.
And I am an idiot. A spoilt, narcissistic idiot. The sort of man who finds the soulless Harriet alluring.
He must repair the damage he had done to Miss Abbott’s pride. But how?
Lily had been lying on her bed, staring at the ceiling for several minutes. Her prideful storming from the drawing room had lasted until she had entered her bedroom, at which point she had hoisted herself onto the bed and collapsed in a state of numbness to consider her future.
A knock at the door barely registered. “Go away!”
She could not bear any more of Mama’s remonstrations. She knew it came from a place of love, that Mama was distraught by Lily’s change of circumstances, but she could not bear it at this moment. Her certainty that Mr. Ridley would come up to scratch and rescue her from scandal had come to naught, and she had no energy left to deal with her mother’s stricken regrets.
The handle clicked open and a red-blonde head peeked around the door. “I really would rather come in.”
“Sophia!” Lily sat up in a rush, bursting into tears to see her best friend.
Her cousin rushed over, joining her on the bed and pulling her into an embrace. “Shh, Lily. Everything will work out.”
“You heard?”
“Of course! I would have come sooner, but Miles had colic and I was up with him and the nurse all night.”
“I am so happy to see you! Mr. Ridley was here, but he said such awful things and I sent him away!”
Sophia pulled her closer. “Your mother informed me. Apparently, I missed the performance by a few minutes.”
“How would Mama know what happened? Mr. Ridley only just left.”
“I am sure she was listening at the door. She seemed quite affronted with the gentleman, complaining about his ingratitude.”
Lily pulled back to stare at her cousin in amazement. “She did?”
Sophia nodded. “She was quite livid, ranting about how no man can treat an Abbott in that manner.”
“Huh! I thought she would blame me for not accepting the offer.”
“Nay, Lily. Your mother wants what is best for you. She just needs time to adjust to all these happenings. Her hopes were high for an excellent match, and now she must contend with broken straws. Just give her some time to figure things out.”
“I am ever so glad you are here.”
“What happens now? Are you certain you do not wish to marry Mr. Ridley?”
Lily wailed, burying her face back in Sophia’s shoulder, which was damp with tears. “I am not certain of anything! I do not wish to be snubbed by good society. Now I must leave London in shame and travel to places unknown just so I can show my face in public, far from everything I am familiar with. How did it all come to this?”
Sophia patted her on the shoulder, while several moments passed.
“I feel I should warn you that the gossip rags mentioned you this morning.”
Lily groaned. “My presence in high society has finally been noted.”
“I am afraid so.”
Lily heaved her chest in distress. “What am I to do?”
Sophia turned her head to Lily, her blue eyes sympathetic. “Would you … permit me to speak to Mr. Ridley?”
“Oh, I think that is impossible. It is clear he does not trust me.”
“I feel confident we can make this arrangement work, but the gentleman has been under great pressure these past few days. He always struck me as a kind man, spending time with his nephew and playing with Miles when he visits our home.”
“You believe I should provide him with another opportunity to make his offer?”
“I believe we need a little patience. Mr. Ridley’s belligerence is understandable. He found his father dead, was accused of patricide, and then was forced to come here to offer you marriage in the course of four days. The poor man is reeling. It does not excuse his behavior, but I believe we should try this again.”
Lily sucked on her lower lip, staring out the bedroom window while she thought. “I am not sure.”
“Mr. Ridley only had Richard to advise him this morning before his visit here. As much as I love my husband, you and I both know that Richard is still learning how to handle the intricacies of emotional ties, and Mr. Ridley is inexperienced in courtship. I am certain that he is the best solution to your debacle but might require some guidance in such a trying time.”
Nodding, Lily fell back on the bed. “We shall try this one more time.”
Sophia settled down beside her, and they both stared at the ceiling just as they had done as girls. “It was exceedingly brave of you.”
“I had to do it. Seeing the duchess in such despair … I had to follow my conscience.”
“You gave up much.”
Lily sighed. “I shall never have a suitor bring me hothouse flowers, or accompany me to Gunter’s for ices. I will never have my first dance with a man and realize that he might be my future husband.”
Sophia’s lips twisted. “Neither of us has had an easy time of it, have we?”
“Richard did bring you flowers that day you compromised him!”
Her cousin huffed. “And he drove me to Gunter’s the day we wed to flaunt our connection in front of the ton.”
Lily smiled, remembering the strange course of Sophia’s wedding to the earl. They had overcome much to find their way to love.
Slowly, her high spirits trickled back, and Lily felt optimistic for the first time in days. “Perhaps it could all work out!”
Sophia reached out to clasp Lily’s hand. “I will do everything in my power to make it so.”
Brendan stepped out into the bright sunlit street at the same time as another man departed Lord Moreland’s home. Stopping to stare at each other, Brendan realized this must be Moreland’s heir. The young man was the image of his father. Tall. Broad shoulders. Square, handsome face. However, the gentleman had the coloring of Miss Abbott. Chocolate brown hair and eyes which were currently glaring at him.
Before Brendan could move away from the widow’s door, Abbott came striding across the street to confront him.
“What are you doing at this … this … this harlot’s home? Why has Lily turned you down?” Reaching out, the outraged brother grabbed him by the lapels.
Blazes! I need to visit Gentleman Jackson’s! This is the second time I have been manhandled.
He blamed his lack of sleep. His reaction time was too slow, and the pounding in his head a distraction he could not set aside. “I was here for ten minutes! Nothing happened.”
Abbott stopped. Slowly, he released Brendan, who tugged at his waistcoat and jacket to set them to rights.
“My sister is ruined, and it is my fault for leaving her alone that night. You have to fix this, Ridley!”
The torment in the brother’s face was apparent to Brendan, even in his compromised state, and he was once again stabbed with shame. If it were his sister …
“Miss Abbott refused my offer.”
“Why? What did you do? She hoped you would take care of her after what she did for you!”
Brendan broke eye contact, staring over Abbott’s shoulder. He was hardly going to admit his cruel accusation or fumbled proposal. “It is not what she wants. And what about you? Would you marry a child?”
Abbott’s face hardened. “She is no child, you scoundrel! What Lily lacks in stature, she makes up for in heart! She is kindness and joy. And, fortunately for you, she is the epitome of honor, or even now you would be imprisoned. This woman”—Abbott gestured at Harriet’s home—“is a vicious viper. Yet you visit her while my sister has retreated, facing certain ruin. I am to take her to the Continent to outrun this scandal. Lily is a young woman with her entire life ahead of her. What is she to do if you will not assist her?”
Brendan winced. The more he learned of the girl, the more ashamed he felt about how he had treated her earlier. He must aid the young woman who had discarded a promising future to help him, but how he was to do that was unclear. She had practically thrown him out.
“I will work something out.”
Abbott narrowed his eyes, looking Brendan over carefully. He stepped back, giving Brendan room to breathe. “I spoke with some of the chaps this morning, and they tell me you are a good sort, Ridley. You must wed my sister to save her from this shame. Lily does not deserve this. Everyone she knows will give her the cut direct. It is inconceivable that this happen to her.” Abbott hung his head, overcome by emotion. “She is the very best of sisters, and if I could restore her reputation, I would. You must help her.”
Brendan raised a shaky hand to rake it through his hair. He had no inkling of how to repair this, and he was so damned tired he felt he might collapse like a dog in the street. “I will try to make it right, Abbott.”
It was not much to offer as consolation, but it was all Brendan could think to say.
When Sophia left, Lily followed her downstairs. After bidding her cousin goodbye, she entered the fateful drawing room, where she had not only witnessed Mr. Ridley enter and then depart Lady Slight’s home, but had also anticipated his proposal, then rejected him. Mama was sitting in Lily’s favorite spot by the window and watching the street intently, flinching in surprise when Lily’s footfalls disturbed her.
“Lily!” Mama jumped to her feet, crossing the room to pull her daughter into an embrace. Lily froze, her face squished into her mother’s shoulder while her arms hung uselessly at her sides and she tried to make sense of what was happening. “We shall find a way through this. I cannot believe what Mr. Ridley said to you! I was so relieved when Sophia arrived … I would have come upstairs, but I was not sure what to say and I thought she might address it better than I.”
Lily lifted her arms and embraced her mother back, hiding her face as tears once again threatened to flow. Mama’s unexpected shift to one of support was welcome. Lily had been feeling terrible about how she had affected her mother with her news. “Sophia and I had a good talk. Thank you for … Thank you.”
They broke apart awkwardly, neither making eye contact. “Mama, I would prefer not to attend the Townsend dinner this evening. Perhaps you can inform them I have a headache?”
Something flashed over her mother’s face, too fleeting for Lily to comprehend it. “Our invitation was … rescinded.”
Remorse twisted in Lily’s belly. Word of her scandal must be spreading rapidly, as Sophia had warned her earlier. “I am sorry.”
Mama shook her head. “I never liked Lady Townsend that much anyway.”
Lily smiled wanly, not wanting to refute her mother’s declaration. Mama and Lady Townsend had been friends for as long as Lily could recall, but pointing it out would not help anything. “Sophia informs me that I was mentioned in the gossip rags.”
Mama blew out her cheeks, shaking her head again. “Sophia was minimizing the truth. There was a drawing of you in … an inappropriate state … with Mr. Ridley.”
Lily swallowed hard, mortified and unsure how to respond. “I am so sorry, Mama.”
“We will prevail. Perhaps Sophia will talk some sense into Mr. Ridley.”
“I hope so. I truly do.”
“Briggs is here.”
Michaels’s disapproving tone was all too obvious. Brendan gritted his teeth. The source of the butler’s animosity was unknown to him. It had been present the very first night he had arrived in London, freshly booted from Baydon Hall by his uncle-father on his twenty-first birthday. He should be accustomed to it by now, but now that he was to be the new baron, perhaps he should retire the supercilious servant.
“Show him in.”
The duke shifted in his seat while Richard turned from the towering stacks of musty books he had been glaring at since his arrival a few minutes earlier. The earl was still bristling with umbrage over the situation with Miss Abbott, but he had arrived as promised to meet with the runner. Now that Brendan’s name had been cleared, the true identity of the baron’s killer needed to be uncovered.
Kneading his temples, Brendan steeled himself. The lack of sleep, along with the altercations at the Abbotts’ home, were draining the last of his energy, but this matter had to be dealt with urgently.
The runner finally appeared in the doorway, bowing slightly. “My lord.”
Apparently, now that Brendan was not under arrest, Briggs had settled on how to address him. He supposed that was a good omen.
“Please, have a seat.”
The runner walked up, looking uncomfortable but taking a seat next to the duke and removing his battered hat.
The duke cleared his throat. “We wish to hire you to pursue the matter of the baron’s death.”
Briggs nodded. “I was hoping you would, because I have concerns for Lord Filminster’s safety.”
Brendan had barely been listening, the pressure in his skull distracting him, but the statement had him straightening in his chair. “What?”
“Before I raise my concerns, I must ask … Would your father have answered the door himself?”
Frowning, Brendan shook his head. “Never. The baron would not lower himself to fulfill the duties of a servant. He was … a vain man.”
“I was afraid of that.”
Halmesbury leaned forward in his armchair, his concern clear. “What are you thinking, Briggs?”
“Lord Filminster”—Briggs bobbed his head toward Brendan as clarification—“spoke of being let in early in the morning. None of the servants admitted to being the one who opened the door for him. That is suspicious in itself, but …”
Brendan’s impatience got the better of him. He had been living on a knife’s edge, and his equilibrium was long since eroded to dust. “But?”
Briggs tugged at his mustache, his expression displaying his reluctance to continue. “The baron was murdered by one of the servants, or a servant knows who killed him because they provided the killer access to your home.”
Brendan groaned, dropping his face into his hands. Of course! He had been so consumed by problems, he had not applied logic. Vaguely aware that the murder must be solved, Brendan had failed to realize the perpetrator was close to hand, or a traitor was in residence in his home.
“Bloody hell,” the earl muttered beneath his breath. “We have been contending with family pressures, so we did not stop to think about the implications.”
The duke sighed. “I, on the other hand, have had time to think on it, which is why I insisted we meet with Briggs. Annabel reached the same conclusion that the baron would never lower himself to answer the front door. Michaels informed me that the door had been locked, and verified as such, because there have been reports of break-ins.”
Briggs nodded in agreement. “I do not wish to cause any panic, but I think it is imperative that the servants be questioned again. With Grimes overseeing the investigation, I was not free to act, but he is tart about how things have turned out, so he is focusing on the inquest. I wish to speak with them again without supervision, so I might compile a list of suspects.”
“What of Grimes? Is he likely to pursue me?”
Halmesbury shook his head. “Fortunately, since Miss Abbott has provided you with an alibi, I was able to persuade the Home Secretary to intercede with Grimes about pursuing proper lines of inquiry.”
