A Scandalous Bargain (The Pretenders #2) - Darcy Burke Page 0,73
your father.”
“How can you know that? You don’t know what happened next.”
“I know you didn’t hurt her. I think you let her go and went out to the balcony to escape, to regain your sanity.”
That’s precisely what he’d done. She did know. “But I thought about it,” he whispered. “I wanted to do it.”
“You didn’t, though. That’s what matters.” She wiped her face with her free hand. “Not telling Bow Street about this doesn’t mean you lied. You didn’t lie to me either.”
“I omitted.”
She shrugged. “As far as I’m concerned, that’s not a lie. You told me when you wanted to.” She gave him an encouraging smile. “Thank you.” Then she leaned into him and kissed his throat. “Oh, Thomas. You didn’t lie.”
“I did—to Bow Street. I told them I didn’t see her fall, that I remained inside.”
Gasping, Beatrix drew back, her brows pitching into a deep V. “Why would you do that?”
“You did a very good job convincing me that it should look like an accident so there could be no doubt. I thought my being on the balcony might cause problems.” He exhaled. “That’s only a small part of it. She came out to the balcony—you saw that.”
“And I heard what she said. I also saw her raise her hand and come toward you.”
“She had a penknife in her grip aimed straight for my throat, which, if you recall, was exposed.”
“I absolutely remember that. Nearly every time I visited your tree and saw you, your cravat was missing.” She traced her fingertip in a triangle at the base of his throat. “This view was my favorite thing about spying on my father.”
Thomas was surprised when he laughed. That she could lighten his mood in the midst of this harrowing discussion was wonderful beyond words. He let go of her hand and clasped her head, kissing her hard and fast. “You are a marvel.”
“And you have an exceptionally attractive neck.” She frowned, her forehead pleating. “I just remembered that something fell from the balcony before she did—that must have been the penknife. I’d forgotten all about that.”
He dropped his hands to the bed and angled himself to face her. “You saw it? Dearborn—the constable—he searched my house for it today because I can’t find it. He suspects I’m lying about her trying to stab me because I didn’t tell him the truth at the start.
“I was only trying to protect Regan. I didn’t want her to know her mother had tried to harm her father. No matter how horrid Thea was, I didn’t see any point in revealing the truth of her despicable behavior to Regan, not after she was gone.”
Beatrix eyes glazed with tears again, but she was smiling. “You are the best man.”
“I don’t know about that. I’m certainly in a mess until Bow Street finishes their investigation.”
“You don’t think they would arrest you? They can’t possibly have enough evidence. You didn’t push her.”
“They say I have motive, which, as you can see, I do. Can you imagine what they would do if they discovered I had just learned Regan wasn’t my blood?” He shivered at the prospect. He couldn’t go to prison—or worse. Regan needed him. “Furthermore, I lied to them initially, so now they aren’t inclined to believe me.”
“This is ludicrous. You had a perfectly good reason for lying. I’ll talk to Harry.”
“No, I don’t want you to get involved. Even though you aren’t trying to impress Ramsgate any longer, you still have a reputation to uphold. I’m not worth ruining yourself over.”
Her frown deepened. “You are worth a great deal more than you know.”
“I just wish I’d been able to produce the penknife. Perhaps that would have been enough to persuade Dearborn to conclude his inquiry. Doubtful, but it doesn’t matter since I can’t find it.”
She averted her gaze and chewed her lip. “What does the knife look like?”
“It has an ivory handle. Her initials—DC for Dorothea Chamberlain—are carved into the design. It was a gift from her father.”
Beatrix scrunched her face up. When she looked at him again, her eyes were clouded with sorrow. “Now it’s my turn to confess my…omission. I know what happened to the knife.”
He stared at her in surprise. “How can you?”
“Because I stole it.”
Chapter 14
Beatrix saw the befuddlement in his gaze and instinctively pulled away. She started toward the edge of the bed, intent on finding her chemise. The feeling of nakedness went more than skin deep—she felt exposed and vulnerable in a way that made her uncomfortable.