LORD BENNETT Armstrong’s house was smaller than Hawkridge Hall and Trentingham Manor, and from the mishmash of styles and the way the house sprawled this way and that, Lily surmised it was older than Hawkridge and Trentingham as well. Sections looked medieval, other parts Tudor, still other portions modern. But regardless of all that, it was obviously the home of a wealthy man.
Each of the three doors had one of Hawkridge’s men assigned to guard it, and two more men were posted on every side of the house—in case Lord Armstrong tried to lower himself from a window.
At first, the guard at the front door had no intention of allowing their party to enter. But Rand remembered the man, and soon he was pumping his hand and asking after his wife and children. Rand swore on his mother’s grave that he wasn’t there to break Lord Armstrong out, and—since the man had apparently adored Rand’s mother—in no time at all, they were ushered into the dark, paneled house.
That, Lily knew, was because of Rand’s innate charm. She also knew it was because he still had strong ties with the people at Hawkridge. Strong ties that would make it impossible for him to return to Oxford if doing so meant the folks left behind would suffer.
A butler directed them to a study, where they found Lord Armstrong writing a letter.
“Bennett!” Margery streaked across the chamber and threw herself at him. “Oh, Bennett, Uncle William means to see you hang!”
“I know, love.” He cupped her face in both his hands. “I was just writing to my uncle with instructions of what to do should that come to pass.”
“Oh, Bennett.”
With a heartfelt groan, he crushed his mouth to hers, kissing her as though he would never let her go. Margery cooperated fully, running her fingers through his longish dark hair and wrapping her arms around his middle. As Lily watched, Margery worked her hands down Bennett’s body, pressing herself against him.
Rand’s jaw dropped. “Apparently she’s not as proper as I thought,” he whispered to Lily.
“Hmm?” She knew she shouldn’t watch, and in truth, she felt like a peeper. But seeing them made her want to do the same with Rand. And sadly, with the new developments, she felt nearly as desperate as the other lovers looked.
Well, at least Rand’s life wasn’t in danger. Only their lives together. She turned and pretended to study a shelf of books, trying to convince herself that things weren’t that bad.
At last the couple parted and Lord Armstrong noticed Rand and Lily. His pale green eyes widened. “Randy? Is that you?”
“I’m called Rand these days.” He strode forward to shake the man’s hand. “And this is my betrothed, Lady Lily Ashcroft.”
She curtsied, trying to dredge up a smile. “Lord Armstrong.”
Although his gaze didn’t make her melt like Rand’s did, he was quite good-looking. He managed a grim smile in return. “Let’s not stand on ceremony,” he said. “I’ve known your intended all my life. Call me Bennett, please.”
“Oh, Bennett.” Margery’s bottom lip quivered. “I thought that while I was gone, Uncle William would come to his senses. But if anything, he’s become even more determined.”
“I’ve seen evidence of that,” Bennett muttered, striding to a window to glare down at the guards.
“He’s offered a hundred pounds for information that leads to proving your guilt.”
“Bloody hell.” Bennett shut his eyes, then opened them and sent Lily an apologetic glance. “Pardon the language, my lady.”
“I’ve heard worse,” she assured him. “Is there no way to prove your innocence?” She didn’t know him, most especially whether or not he might be innocent, but she was praying he was. Clearing him as an acceptable husband for Margery seemed the only hope for her and Rand.
But Bennett just gave a helpless shrug and dropped back onto his bulky wooden desk chair. “There were no witnesses.”
Rand began pacing. “Tell me what happened.”
Bennett pulled Margery onto his lap and played with a lock of her pale hair while he talked. “I was hunting and, as sometimes happens, had become separated from my companions. Alban rode up almost immediately, as though he had been following and waiting for such an opportunity. He dismounted, pointed a pistol at me, and accused me of plotting to steal his bride.”
Rand turned and leveled him with a stare. “Were you?”
Bennett looked to Margery for help. She met Rand’s gaze. “Your father wouldn’t allow us to marry, so we were planning to elope. I have no idea, however, how Alban could have found out.”
“Alban had his ways,” Rand said darkly. “So then what happened?”
Bennett’s swallow was audible from across the room. “I dived off my horse to knock the gun from his grasp, and it went off. Then he drew his sword, and I panicked. Alban was known for his swordsmanship, and he wasn’t looking for a duel of honor—he’d made it clear he wanted me dead. I swiped a stout branch off the ground and bashed him over the head. He went down like a sack of flour.”
Rand still paced. “And he was dead.”
“Dead as a doornail, I’m afraid. I didn’t mean to kill him—I could have shot him if I’d wanted that. I was hunting and had a musket, after all. But I wasn’t sorry. He didn’t deserve my Margery—he treated her abominably.”
“Don’t you see?” Margery slid off Bennett’s lap and went over to Rand, halting him with a hand on his arm. “It was self-defense. If he hadn’t done Alban in, Bennett would’ve been dead instead.”
“But how to prove it?” Lily asked.
“I don’t know.” Margery looked toward her pleadingly. “But you must help me find a way.”
“We will,” Lily promised softly.
Rand had too many problems for Lily to burden him with her own, but without her sisters here for support, she’d been feeling adrift and alone. She and Margery had a common goal. Together, with Rand’s help, they would fight to keep their men.
The two women shared a sad, understanding smile, and Lily felt a little bit better.