grin. “But I’m not making any promises.”
On that note, he chose to leave. Vanessa was going to lead some fellow a merry dance once she married. Thank God it wouldn’t be him.
Still, as his coachman drove off into the night, he couldn’t get her words out of his head: But perhaps it’s time you put the past behind you.
For the first time, he realized he wanted to. He wanted to stop the anger and resentment, wanted to stop hurting every time he thought of those early days. He had a feeling if he didn’t, he would lose Beatrice, perhaps not now but eventually.
After all, a man with a hollow chest where his heart should be wasn’t likely to keep a woman like her happy for very long.
When Grey returned to Armitage Hall in the morning on the day after he left, he was surprised to find Sheridan waiting for him.
“It’s about damned time you got here,” Sheridan snapped. “What’s this nonsense about your being engaged to Vanessa? You told me—”
“It was a mistake in the paper. I had it corrected.”
That brought Sheridan up short. “What do you mean, ‘a mistake’?”
“Read today’s Times when it arrives, and you’ll understand.” Grey surveyed the entrance hall. “Is Beatrice here?”
“No. She sent a message saying she was staying home today.”
Grey headed for the door. All he wanted to do was find Beatrice and reassure her they could marry. He didn’t want her to see the paper until he could properly propose.
“Grey, wait!” Sheridan cried. “I have new information about Father’s death.”
That arrested him. “What kind of information?”
“While you were in London, I located the bridge rails washed up from the river. I also discovered that the man who built the bridge lived right in Sanforth. So I had him examine the bridge and rails.” Sheridan ran a hand through his hair. “He said the structure had definitely been damaged deliberately beforehand so as to make it dangerous if someone fell against the rails.”
Ignoring the frisson of unease sweeping over him, Grey eyed his brother skeptically. “What else would he say? He fears if the bridge is faulty, he’ll be liable for Maurice’s death.”
“I don’t think that’s it. He showed me what he was talking about. It was convincing enough that I mean to take the information to our local constable. Then he can question Joshua himself.”
But Wolfe had an alibi, though Grey could hardly say that without revealing how he knew. Even so, Sheridan was unlikely to put much stock in Beatrice’s word. He seemed determined to pursue his suspicions to the bitter end.
Sheridan went on. “You’ll remember that Joshua was the one who summoned Father to the dower house.”
Grey had forgotten that. And Beatrice had not said anything about a summons.
“He also had good reason to murder Father, given what I learned about Father’s plans to sell the dower house. Which could also explain why Joshua might have killed Uncle Armie, although I can’t prove that. Yet.”
Grey’s heart sank as he thought of the much more plausible reason for Joshua to want the scoundrel dead.
“Before you go to the constable, I want to question Wolfe,” Grey said. “I want to hear what he has to say about his whereabouts that night.”
Sheridan stared at him. “Fine. But don’t take too long. I can’t risk the possibility Joshua will flee once you speak to him.”
“For God’s sake, I need not let him know of your accusations in order to question him.” Although since Beatrice knew everything, that might be a bit difficult.
“But if he’s guilty,” Sheridan said, “any questions on the matter will spook him. I know you have a soft spot for Beatrice, but I cannot let Joshua’s actions stand.”
“I realize that. Just let me talk to him before you run off for the constable. I’m heading over there now, anyway.” He stared Sheridan down. “I suppose I should let you know. I don’t merely have a soft spot for Beatrice: I mean to marry her.”
Sheridan gaped at him. “You realize she has no dowry and no prospects beyond what small portion I might provide for her one day as her relation. She’ll bring little to the marriage beyond herself. Given how hard you work to increase your wealth, I would have thought you, of all people—”
“Beatrice ‘herself’ is plenty enough for me,” he snapped, annoyed that his brother saw him as so mercenary. “I work to increase my wealth so my children and grandchildren won’t be saddled with crippling debt the way you