meadows, the fields, the barns.”
“I don’t know that I’ve ever been to a farm,” Lily said, taking another nibble from her cake. “It shall be an adventure for us, Annie. Though I cannot believe the meadows are much to look at in winter. But we shall make the best of it.”
Annie nodded rapidly. “Oh yes, a farm sounds absolutely lovely. You must show us what a farm is like, Kate.”
Kate furrowed her brow. “What do you mean?”
“Now who is being silly?” Lily asked. “We mean we intend to take you to a farm.”
Kate’s heart beat rapidly. “Do you truly think we could sneak off to a farm?”
Lily handed her another cake. “Consider it done.”
CHAPTER 13
When Abernathy returned that afternoon to meet privately with James in his study, the news was not good.
“It appears it shall be a difficult case, my lord,” Abernathy announced. “More difficult than we first imagined, I’m afraid.”
James sat forward in his chair, bracing his forearms on the desk, and shook his head. “That’s saying something. What’s happened?”
Abernathy cleared his throat and pulled his ubiquitous stack of papers from his bag. The stack hit the desktop with a loud
James furrowed his brow. “What specifically did Lady Bettina say?” Ever since he’d heard Lady Bettina was involved he’d been suspicious. Lady Bettina was a beautiful young widow who’d made overtures to James a time or two. She was a bit of baggage that was usually up to no good. A woman who went from protector to protector in the peerage, always vying for gifts and money and power. Yes, James knew Lady Bettina, and he didn’t like her. Not one bit.
Abernathy fished in his coat pocket and pulled out his spectacles. He perched them on his nose and regarded a single sheaf of parchment that he’d pulled from the stack. “Lady Bettina essentially said what her grace already told us. She heard the duke and the duchess arguing. Then, about an hour later, she went to check on him and found her grace on the floor with his dead body, the pistol on the floor next to them and the duke’s blood all over her hands and clothing. Curiously, Lady Bettina did not hear the pistol shot either.”
James winced. “It’s not good, is it, Abernathy?”
Abernathy shook his head. “I’m afraid not, my lord.”
“What else did you discover?”
The barrister consulted his paperwork. He pulled out another sheet and scanned the parchment up and down, a frown on his face. “The valet, the housekeeper, and at least one housemaid overheard the argument. The butler says he did not. All of them entered the room when they heard Lady Bettina’s scream.”
James expelled his breath. “And what did Kate say, when they found her?”
Abernathy flipped the page. “They all said the same thing. Her grace said nothing. She was perfectly silent, just staring at her husband’s body.”
James’s jaw went tight. If Kate were innocent—and it was such a big if—that moment must have been horrendous for her. Unimaginable. His stomach clenched in knots thinking about it. But she was caught literally red-handed. Was there any doubt she’d done it?
“I suppose it’s a good thing that she remained silent,” James replied.
Abernathy nodded. “Yes. It can only be good for an accused person not to incriminate herself any further. If she’d confessed, of course, there would be no hope of defending her. Though as it stands now…” The barrister’s voice trailed off.
“There’s very little?” James replied. With a deep sigh, he leaned back in his chair and pressed his fingers to his temples where a sharp headache had begun to form.
“Yes,” Abernathy replied. “I’ll be honest. There’s very little.”
James’s gaze met his. “I know you’ll do your best, Abernathy.”
The barrister plucked the spectacles from his nose and tucked them back inside his pocket. “I will, my lord.”
“Did you learn of any reasons why any of the other occupants of the house might have wanted to kill Markingham?” James asked.
“Not one,” Abernathy replied, steepling his fingers over his chest. “The servants all seemed quite loyal and happily employed by the family. Lady Bettina didn’t appear to have a reason to commit murder, nor to stand to gain financially in any way by his death.”
James let his hands drop from his forehead and narrowed his eyes. “No other possible motivation?”
Abernathy shook his head. “His grace’s mother was at the dower house nearby that day, but by all accounts, she dearly loved her son and was napping at the time the murder occurred. Her servants have confirmed that.”
James gripped the rosewood arms of his chair. “What about Markingham’s heir? Who stood to gain the title upon his death?”
“I looked into that too, my lord. The heir is Markingham’s cousin. His father’s younger brother’s son. A Mr. Oliver Townsende.”
“I’ve heard that name.” James nodded. “Where was Mr. Townsende that day?”
“At his town house in London, I’m afraid. Also confirmed by his servants. But don’t worry, I intend to investigate that more fully … and immediately.”
“What about his wife?” James asked. He was reaching, he knew, but a Society-minded wife might have a motive for murder after all.
“Mr. Townsende is not married, my lord. Though I daresay as the new duke, he’s become a great deal more eligible.”
James expelled his breath. “I don’t envy him.”
“Neither do I.”
James leaned back in his chair and scrubbed his hands over his face. He felt tired all of a sudden. “Was there anything else, Abernathy? Anything at all?”
The barrister cleared his throat. “Yes. I confirmed, through several sources, that Lady Bettina and his grace were, indeed…”
James raised a hand to spare the poor man from his misery. “I understand.” James expelled his breath.
So, Markingham did have a mistress. It wasn’t just Kate’s conjecture or attempt to deflect the scandal. And somehow Markingham had had the nerve to bring his mistress to his wife’s home and inform her that he was in love with the other woman. Parading his new love in front of Kate, all while denying her her freedom. James clenched his fist. The bloody cad. Markingham’s behavior sickened him.
On the other hand, such a set of circumstances did seem like something that might well push a woman scorned over the edge. Perhaps even to commit murder. Either way, James needed to discover the truth. He’d begun his association with the duchess with the sole intention of getting his pamphlet written and turning Kate back over to the authorities to determine her fate. But now he had to know. He had to. Was she guilty or not?
Abernathy gathered up his papers and dropped them back into his bag. “My lord, everything I’ve discovered so far is based purely on the magistrate’s investigation, his notes. I intend to conduct my own investigation next. There may well be more information that has yet to be uncovered.”
James considered everything that had happened with Kate since he’d met her. The moment she’d named her terms he should have walked away. Lord knew it had been ludicrous to even entertain the notion of taking her
