A Scandalous Bargain (The Pretenders #2) - Darcy Burke Page 0,87

Thea had poisoned herself. Why the hell was there hemlock in his house anyway?

Thomas suddenly knew. She was going to use it on him. He thought back to how that evening had started. She’d been alarmingly pleasant, offering to pour him a brandy. Surprised and disturbed by her uncharacteristic charm, he’d declined. Now that he recalled the event, he realized she’d been disappointed. Things had escalated quickly after that, and now he knew he’d pricked her temper by frustrating her plans.

“Fine,” Thomas ground out. “She wasn’t poisoned, and you’ll discover that soon enough.”

Dearborn came away from the wall and walked to the center of the room. “Why was there hemlock in your sitting room?”

Thomas still stood just inside the doorway. “My best estimation is that Lady Rockbourne planned to poison me. She wanted a divorce. Desperately. I refused to give her one.”

Frowning, Dearborn crossed his arms. “Another thing you neglected to tell us. What else are you hiding?”

“I was trying to protect the memory of a woman who didn’t deserve my concern. She wanted to be free of our marriage. She was a terrible wife and mother. I didn’t want my daughter to ever know that.”

“She doesn’t need to.”

“Except that this investigation is already the latest gossip.” Thomas took a modicum of pleasure from the look of surprise in Dearborn’s features, followed by disappointment.

“We do not share information,” Dearborn assured him.

“You also can’t promise that information won’t become public. Especially if I’m arrested.” Thomas glanced at the other two constables. “Is that what’s happening here?” He tensed.

Dearborn’s face twitched. “I haven’t decided yet. However, I would like it if you would come to Bow Street so we may question you formally. That way, you’ll have an opportunity to provide everything you may have omitted. Including the name of the woman with whom you’ve been having an affair.”

“I told you, I am not having an affair.” At least, he hadn’t been. Not when Thea had died.

But was he now? God, he hoped so.

“Will you assemble the household, my lord? We’d like to question everyone briefly,” the older constable asked.

Thomas glowered at Dearborn. “Perhaps you could at least introduce me to your colleagues.”

Dearborn flushed. “Of course, my apologies.” He gestured to the older man, who was closest to Thomas. “This is Mr. Woodward and that is Mr. Mercer.” Mercer was younger than Woodward and altogether more intimidating. He was shorter, but he was stocky, with a thick neck and a head like a block. Thomas wondered if he could be knocked down and doubted it very much.

“You want my entire household assembled? Minus my daughter and her nurse. I won’t have my daughter subjected to any of this.”

“We would like to speak with the nurse as well,” Dearborn said.

“Then you’ll have to allow me to go up and be with my daughter while that happens.”

Dearborn looked to Woodward, who gave a slight nod. “That is acceptable.”

Without a word, Thomas turned and went into the entry hall, where Baines stood stiff and straight. “My lord?”

“Assemble the household. Here. I’ll send Miss Addy down.”

Woodward had followed Thomas into the hall. “Lord Rockbourne, perhaps this doesn’t need to be said, but I would be remiss if I did not make it clear that you are not to leave the house.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” Thomas said with more sarcasm than was probably smart. He was too angry to censor himself completely.

He only hoped he was able to keep his temper under control. Now was not the time for whatever parts he possessed of his father to emerge.

Chapter 17

Harry leaned against the corner of the hearth in the garden room, his face drawn in deep contemplation. Beatrix and Selina had just finished telling him everything. Mostly everything. They’d left out the part where Beatrix was quite desperately in love with Tom, instead saying that they’d “become close.” Harry wasn’t stupid. He knew what that meant.

“I should go to Bow Street right now,” Harry said.

“Are you going to tell them there’s an eyewitness to what happened?” Selina asked. She glanced over at Beatrix, who sat beside her on the settee.

“I can’t, not without naming the party. For now, I think we should avoid that.” He grimaced, then looked at Beatrix in sympathy. “I appreciate your reluctance to share this information in order to protect Selina—and yourself.”

“If it wasn’t for Selina, I’d go to Bow Street right now.”

Selina gently patted Beatrix’s hand.

Harry’s features relaxed. “Of course you would. Let me see what’s happening, and we’ll decide what to