The Virgin Who Ruined Lord Gray - Anna Bradley Page 0,37

as though Cecilia did, however.”

Sophia Monmouth said nothing, just twisted her fingers nervously in her skirts.

“Miss Monmouth didn’t simply attend the trial, Lady Clifford. I’m afraid she took such great exception to Mr. Peter Sharpe’s testimony she followed him from the Old Bailey to Newgate Street, slipped a silver locket into his pocket when his back was turned, then accused him of stealing it.”

Silence. Aside from a slight twitch of her lips, Lady Clifford’s expression didn’t change, but Tristan had the distinct impression she wasn’t pleased. Miss Monmouth, who was now squirming uncomfortably, seemed to have drawn the same conclusion.

“The, ah, gentlemen loitering outside Ye Old Mitre Pub were on the verge of beating Peter Sharpe bloody when I came upon them.” Tristan glanced at Miss Monmouth. “Street justice is an ugly thing, Lady Clifford.”

“Indeed, it is. What a fortunate coincidence you happened to be there to intervene, Lord Gray.” Lady Clifford reached out to stroke a hand over the pug’s head.

Tristan let out a short laugh. “There are no coincidences, Lady Clifford. I saw Miss Monmouth follow Mr. Sharpe out of the courtroom, knew at once she was up to something, and went after her.”

“Is that so? I wasn’t aware, Lord Gray, you were still a Bow Street Runner.” Lady Clifford’s tone was as polite as ever, but Tristan didn’t miss the shard of ice in her voice.

“My interest is personal, Lady Clifford, not professional. Henry Gerrard was a dear friend of mine. I’m sure you can understand I’m eager to see his murderer brought to justice.”

“Jeremy didn’t murder Henry Gerrard!” Miss Monmouth shot to her feet, her face white with anger. “If you’re so anxious to see Mr. Gerrard’s murderer brought to justice, then you’ll do everything in your power to see the wrong man isn’t hung for the crime!”

“Sophia, my love. Please.” Lady Clifford took Miss Monmouth’s hand and urged her back down onto the settee, but her gaze remained fixed on Tristan. “I beg your pardon, Lord Gray. Jeremy Ives is rather a favorite of ours. Naturally my girls are upset at the dreadful fate that’s befallen him. I wasn’t aware you were acquainted with Henry Gerrard. I’m very sorry for your loss.”

Tristan stiffened. “I don’t want your sympathy, Lady Clifford. I want you and your…young ladies to stop interfering in this business.”

“Miss Monmouth is right, you know,” Lady Clifford said, as if Tristan hadn’t spoken. “Jeremy is innocent. He isn’t capable of committing a crime, much less one so heinous as murder.”

“The court doesn’t agree with you, my lady. Jeremy Ives was found guilty of murder today, and there’s an end to it.”

Miss Monmouth jumped to her feet again. “It’s not an end to anything! For a Bow Street Runner, you’re very disinterested in justice, Lord Gray.”

“On the contrary, Miss Monmouth. I’m quite interested in seeing murderers hang.”

“In seeing someone hang, at any rate. You’re far less troubled about whether the man swinging at the end of the rope is guilty or innocent.” Miss Monmouth took a step toward him. Her hands were clenched into fists, and her cheeks flushed with righteous fury.

Tristan gazed up at her, a disturbing range of emotions twisting in his chest. Her accusation struck a nerve, and he didn’t care for it, but at the same time he couldn’t help but admire her passion, misguided as it was. His eyes met hers, and for a long moment they stared at each other, both of them a bit short of breath, then Tristan rose to his feet so he was towering over her. “I’ll take my leave now.”

He’d said all he wished to say, but before he reached the drawing room door, he turned a sharp glance on Sophia Monmouth. “Remember your promise, Miss Monmouth. You gave your word. Good day, Lady Clifford.”

“Lord Gray.” Lady Clifford inclined her head.

For some time after Lord Gray left, neither Sophia nor Lady Clifford said a word. The only sound in the room was Gussie, snuffling and snorting contentedly as Lady Clifford stroked his head. Finally, when Sophia couldn’t stand the quiet a moment longer, Lady Clifford murmured, “Unnecessary risk, Sophia.”

“I-I’m sorry, my lady. I know you told me not to go to the trial, but I simply couldn’t…couldn’t bear for Jeremy to be left alone.” Sophia swiped angrily at the tears on her cheeks.

“I understand that, my love, and I can’t blame you for it, but this business with Peter Sharpe and your locket.” Lady Clifford shook her head. “That wasn’t well done of

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