A Scandalous Bargain (The Pretenders #2) - Darcy Burke Page 0,91

move back. He stopped in front of the houses and dismounted.

“What’s going on here?” Harry asked, his gaze going from Beatrix to the constables to Tom and back to Beatrix.

“It’s a terribly long story.” Beatrix suddenly had an urge to laugh.

“Inside. Now.” The duke stalked toward his house. Apparently, they were all to follow him.

And that was precisely what they did.

They did not, however, return to the sword room. He led them up the stairs to the drawing room where Beatrix had met with him.

Beatrix stood near Harry. The duke took a position near the hearth, while his butler and footman lingered just inside the doorway. Tom and the three constables moved to stand in front of the windows.

The duke glowered at the constables. “I can’t begin to imagine why you’re investigating Rockbourne about the death of his wife. Didn’t she fall off the balcony?”

“Yes, Your Grace,” Dearborn answered, looking a bit pale. “However, evidence and information has come to light that require investigation.”

Beatrix took a step forward. “Such as the fact that I saw the entire thing, and she fell. He didn’t push her!”

Harry briefly put his hand on her arm. “Let me.” He addressed his colleagues. “I just came from Bow Street, where I went to speak with you, Dearborn. My sister-in-law did see what happened. She did not come forward sooner because she didn’t realize there was a need. And, as you can imagine, to do so would have jeopardized her reputation.”

The duke made a noise in his throat. “Her reputation… How did you manage to see this, girl?”

Just when Beatrix thought she’d controlled her shaking, she started to quiver once more. “I was in Lord Rockbourne’s tree. I, ah, I was watching you until I was distracted by Lady Rockbourne yelling.”

The duke glanced toward Tom. “The viscountess could be a bloody banshee.” He cocked his head at Beatrix. “Why were you watching me? That’s very odd.”

“Because I wanted to see you. I wanted to feel…close to you. It was odd. And foolish.” She almost said she regretted it, but she couldn’t, for that would mean she would never have met Tom. And that she would never regret.

Shockingly, the duke’s features softened. But just for a moment. He hardened back up, like ice forming, before he spoke. “It was extremely foolish. You should have come to see me when you arrived in town. We could have come to an…arrangement.” He looked at the constables again, using the same haughty stare he’d used with Beatrix at their prior meeting.

“Miss Whitford is my… Well, she’s a close friend’s daughter. She can be rather silly, as evidenced, but if she says she saw the viscountess fall, then the viscountess fell. I wouldn’t doubt it, in any case. Lady Rockbourne was so often intoxicated, I daresay it’s a wonder she didn’t fall from the balcony, or somewhere else, long before now.”

Beatrix stared at him. He hadn’t admitted he was her father, but he’d provided a reason for them to be friendly at least. And he’d instructed the constables to believe her.

Harry cleared his throat. “Since that’s two of us vouching for Miss Whitford, I think you must accept her testimony and conclude your investigation.” He looked toward the older constable. “Don’t you agree, Woodward?”

He nodded. “I do.”

“Excellent. That should take care of things,” Harry said firmly.

“No.”

Every head in the room swung toward Tom.

“No?” the duke asked, sounding irritated.

“That does not take care of things. Beatrix—Miss Whitford—went to great lengths to protect me.” Moving to stand before her, Tom sank to one knee and took her hand. For the dozenth time that hour, Beatrix’s breath caught, but for a far better reason this time.

He looked up at her, and her chest swelled with joy. “She is not my mistress, but I desperately hope she will be my wife.”

“Absolutely not,” the duke thundered. He looked to the constables and pointed to the door. “Out.” Then he glared at Harry. “You too.”

Harry didn’t leave Beatrix’s side. “Miss Whitford is my sister-in-law. I am not leaving.”

Tom turned his head toward the duke as the constables—as well as the footman and butler—filed out of the room. “You can’t mean for me to leave too.”

“No. I mean for you to gain some sense.”

Chapter 18

Thomas rose and moved to stand on the other side of Beatrix. He took her hand, which felt cold even through the thin glove she wore. The urge to pull her into his arms and never let her go was nearly overwhelming. Instead, he