Niall’s statement, but he was interrupted by a woman’s raised voice from the hall, saying, “I know they’ve just returned. It was a happy coincidence that I arrived moments after they did. I must speak with Lord Selby. To apologize, you see.”
“Oh, God,” Blake blurted, pressing his fingertips to his temples just as Lady Inglewood marched into the room, a hapless Charles trailing behind her.
“I’m so sorry, your grace,” Charles hissed, but it was too late.
“Lord Selby, please allow me to extend my deepest, deepest apologies to you for the other night.” Lady Inglewood swept into the room, hands outstretched toward Blake, ignoring the officers. “I’m afraid I was in my cups, as the saying goes, and grossly in the wrong to come here. Though I was flattered by the way you welcomed me.” She arched an eyebrow and cast a coquettish grin to Blake’s trousers.
Niall nearly snorted into laughter at the sudden turn of events. Lady Inglewood was a menace, but she was also exactly the Deus ex Machina they needed at that moment.
“You were here the other night?” the first officer asked, thoroughly confused.
“I’m afraid so,” Lady Inglewood answered with a low, sheepish laugh.
“It was a private incident,” Blake said, taking Lady Inglewood’s hand and patting it. He went so far as to gaze fondly at her to help the narrative along.
Both officers stood where they were, mouths hanging open, looking as though a prank had been played on them that they had yet to fully figure out. Niall thanked God that he didn’t have to say or do anything to help Blake prove his innocence. The more he stayed out of things, the better. And while he was at it, he made a few mental notes for scenes in future plays.
“There must have been a misunderstanding at some point,” the first officer said at last, standing straighter and tugging at his jacket as if to save face. “The matter needs further investigation, but—”
“Where are they?” a new shout sounded from the hall. “Selby, you bloody, cheating sod, where are you?”
Shock at hearing Ian’s voice rattled Niall. He had just enough time to step back before Ian charged into the room. Once again, Charles trailed behind the new arrival, red-faced and desperate, as though he’d let another situation completely escape his control.
“You lying thief,” Ian continued to shout as he marched up to stand toe to toe with Blake. Lady Inglewood yelped and rushed to Niall’s side, as though he could protect her. “What is this?” Ian raged on, holding up the necklace they’d attempted to pass off as the medallion.
“It’s the medallion you wanted.” Blake jerked away from Ian, maintaining a look of utter bewilderment, in spite of the fact that they absolutely had cheated Ian out of what he wanted. In fact, underneath his pretend shock, Blake looked overjoyed.
“This is a piece of rubbish,” Ian growled, throwing the necklace to the floor. “I want Professor Carroll’s medallion.”
“What is Professor Carroll’s medallion?” Lady Inglewood whispered as she clutched Niall’s arm.
Niall didn’t get a chance to explain.
“That’s it.” Blake gestured to the necklace on the floor, then added with perfect, feigned innocence, “Isn’t it?”
“No, you buggering bastard, it isn’t,” Ian exploded. “Where is the real thing? That’s what I want, or you’ll be sorry.”
“Where is my son?” Blake demanded, taking a step into Ian. “Did Annamarie and Alan sail without you?”
“No, we were prevented—” Ian stopped, his face pinching as if he’d made a mistake. “Give me the medallion.”
“Give me back my son,” Blake demanded, the light of victory in his eyes. “Or would you care to explain to these officers from Scotland Yard why you are holding my son hostage against his will?”
Ian took a few stilted steps away from Blake, glancing to the officers.
“We weren’t aware there was a kidnapping involved in this case,” the tall officer said, his expression going flat.
“I hope you see now that the accusations that were made against the Duke of Selby were false and born out of a personal grudge,” Niall said, hoping to turn the tables completely. “Mr. Archibald is the one who should be arrested.”
“He’s the criminal.” Ian pointed at Blake.
“What accusations?” Lady Inglewood asked at the same time.
“Lord Selby and Mr. Cristofori have been accused of gross indecency,” the second officer answered, though he no longer looked certain.
Lady Inglewood gaped at Niall, then at Blake, then burst into laughter. “Oh, good heavens, what a ridiculous notion.” She clutched her chest as she laughed. “Lord Selby is a