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 refused their party entry. But Rand remembered the fellow, and soon he was pumping his hand and asking after his wife and children. The man seemed to have a bit of a soft spot for Margery as well, and after she swore up and down that they weren’t there to break Lord Armstrong out, he agreed to admit them into the dark, paneled interior of the house.
The Ashcroft sisters followed behind, Rose looking thoughtful and Lily feeling hopeful. Though her future with Rand was still uncertain, she was beginning to glimpse a possibility of reuniting him with his father. Today she’d seen flashes of warmth in the marquess’s treatment of Margery—albeit faint flashes, but clearly there was a heart somewhere beneath his unpleasant manner. Getting Rand to acknowledge that fact wouldn’t be easy, but the longer they were here, the more obvious it became that he still had strong ties to his childhood home and its people. Father and son both cared for Hawkridge, and if they could work together to save it—with Lily’s money and harmonizing influence—they just might find themselves being a family.
But first they had to face the troubling matter of Bennett Armstrong. From a quick, whispered conference outside Hawkridge’s stables, Lily knew Rand suspected Lord Armstrong was innocent. Lily hoped he was right, as such a lucky outcome for Margery would clear her own path to marrying Rand. But like him, she was reserving judgement.
Luck had not been on their side of late.
The baron’s butler directed the four visitors to a study, where they found the accused gentleman 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 held her face in both his hands, looking haggard and afraid. “I was just writing to my uncle with instructions of what to do should that come to pass.”
“Oh, Bennett—”
Her speech was cut off when he crushed his mouth to hers, kissing her as though he would never let her go. Margery cooperated fully, clinging to him like a fragile, desperate vine.
Rand’s jaw dropped. “Apparently she’s not as proper as I thought,” he whispered to Lily.
“Hmm.” She slanted him a glance, thinking that was a bold accusation after what had nearly happened between them last night.
The two lovers didn’t part until Rose loudly cleared her throat. Lord Armstrong looked up with widened pale green eyes, apparently startled to find there were others present. “Randy? Is that you?”
“I’m called Rand these days.” He strode forward to shake the fellow’s hand. “And this is my betrothed, Lady Lily Ashcroft, and her sister, Lady Rose.”
Lily curtsied, trying to dredge up a smile. “Lord Armstrong.”
Although his gaze didn’t pierce her soul like Rand’s did, he was quite good-looking. He managed a weak, embarrassed smile in return. “Pray pardon our…um…enthusiasm,” he said, stepping away from Margery, though he kept hold of her hand.
“Oh, Bennett.” Margery’s bottom lip quivered. “I’d hoped that after the inquest, Uncle William would come to his senses. But if anything, he’s become even more determined.”
“I’ve seen evidence of that,” Bennett muttered, glaring at the guard stationed outside his window.
“He’s offered a hundred pounds for information that leads to proving your guilt.”
“Blast him.” Sinking back into his bulky wooden chair, Bennett squeezed his eyes shut and pressed Margery’s hand to his lips. “That’s that, then,” he said shakily, lowering her hand. “You know, I thought I was prepared for this. But I suppose one never really is.”
Her cheeks wet, Margery sagged against the desk.
Lily’s heart constricted at the sight of such despair. ”Is there no way to prove your innocence?” She didn’t know him, most especially whether or not he might be innocent, but he clearly loved Margery.
Bennett just gave a helpless shrug. “There were no witnesses.”
Rand began pacing. “Tell me what happened.”
“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 paused and leveled him with a stare. “Were you?”
Bennett looked to Margery for help. Wiping her face, she met Rand’s gaze. “Your father wouldn’t allow us to marry, so we were planning to elope. But I’ve no idea 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 Margery—he treated her abominably.” Despite the strength of his words, Lord Armstrong’s eyes skittered away guiltily.
Apparently he was sorry…about something, anyway.
“Don’t you see?” Margery straightened 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 around the room pleadingly. “But you must help me find a way. You all must.”
Lily looked to Rand with a question in her eyes, and he nodded his agreement. Rose’s face was impassive, but Lily could tell from the way she was leaning forward in her chair that she, too, felt sympathy for the young couple.
“Of course we’ll help,” Rose said softly.