Page 144 of From Rakes to Riches

“Stephen would have been proud to escort you down the aisle,” Theodore said, his tone sincere. “Hopefully by next year when your wedding day has arrived, Bow Street will have apprehended the man responsible and you’ll be able to carry your brother’s memory with peace in your heart.”

“I wish we could find Stephen’s journal and hurry along the process,” Margaret lamented, her irritation evident. “You searched his study and bedchambers twice. Where would he have put it?”

“A journal?” Sidmouth asked, a wary look on his face. “What are you talking about?”

Lola watched the young gentleman go pale before her eyes, but Margaret was too busy taking out her frustration on her mutton steak to notice.

“My brother kept a journal. His valet, Timmons, said Stephen wrote in it daily. Theodore and I believe that if wecan find the journal and read the last few entries, perhaps—” Margaret’s fork and knife clattered to her plate when she finally glanced in her betrothed’s direction. “Colin! What’s the matter? You look dreadful. Are you ill?”

Viscount Sidmouth shifted his attention from one person to the next before he cleared his throat, removed his napkin from his lap, and pushed his chair back from the table. He stood and took several deep breaths in a row.

“Margaret,” Sidmouth’s voice sounded strained.

“What is it, Colin? Just tell me already.” Margaret rose now too.

Theodore reached beneath the tablecloth and squeezed Lola’s hand in reassurance. They both waited silently as the scene on the other side of the table unfolded.

“I wasn’t aware you were looking for your brother’s journal,” Sidmouth said, his voice somewhat recovered.

“I didn’t mention it to you because it wasn’t of your concern,” Margaret replied as she walked to his side. “Do you know what happened to it?”

“I do,” Sidmouth said, his brow creased with worry. “I hid it.”

“What?” Margaret asked with disbelief in her voice. “You hid it?”

“What do you mean you hid it?” Theodore asked as he stood from the table now too. “You need to explain quickly, Sidmouth.”

“I will.” Sidmouth paused, his eyes shifting from Margaret to Theodore and back again. “The day you asked me to speak to Stephen, the night before he was killed, I went to his study and we argued. Stephen was resistant to almost every idea I presented for the wedding and said he needed to reconsider the arrangement. We had an awful row and, not only did I feel as though I’d failed you, Margaret, but I knew I had destroyed any chance at having a strong relationship with your brother.”

“Go on,” Margaret insisted, hardly allowing him a breath.

“Having exchanged harsh words, I felt badly after I left the room, so I returned a short time later to see if I could make it right. Stephen was seated at his desk writing in a brown leather book, his body angled away from the door, and he didn’t look up when I entered. He must have assumed I was his valet because he only gestured in the air and saidNot now, Timmons.I’ll be upstairs as soon as I finish writing in my journal. Close the doors on your way out.”

“But you left right after,” Margaret interjected, visibly confused. “You told me things went terribly wrong and you apologized and said you needed to go home.”

“And that’s what I did.” Sidmouth swallowed thoughtfully. “But I couldn’t bear for you to think poorly of me, Margaret. I assumed Stephen was recording his thoughts in his journal and, were you to ask him about the discussion, it would besmirch my character. I believed your brother intended to rescind his permission for me to marry you.

“Now when I reflect on it, I may not have been thinking clearly, my logic clouded by emotion because I love you, Margaret, deeply, and I didn’t want your brother’s opinion to interfere with our future. At the same time, I would never purposely cause disharmony in your family.”

“That’s all well and good, Sidmouth, but you haven’t finished explaining what happened to the journal. Did you take it and put it away somewhere?” Theodore asked sternly.

“The day after we learned of your brother’s death, when I was here comforting you, I returned to the study.” Sidmouth looked sheepishly at Margaret now. “I told you I needed to use the necessary, but the truth is I went back and found Stephen’s leather journal on his desk. It was locked and there was no key, but I still worried you would somehow read the contents, so I hid it. It never occurred to me Stephen might have writtenabout a threat to his person or included details concerning the situation that brought him to Vauxhall. I was only thinking of us, Margaret, and our life together.”

“Did you read my brother’s journal?” Margaret asked, her voice high pitched with emotion.

“No. I swear to you, on my honor, I didn’t read it. It was locked and I had no desire to learn the contents. I just didn’t want you to find it and discover your brother was reconsidering his approval of our marriage.”

“I’m upset and hurt you deceived me this way,” Margaret said, her hand laid flat over her heart, though her words lacked conviction.

Lola looked at Theodore, knowing those same words had to have been alive in him when she’d confessed her real name and the circumstances for leaving Ipswich. Unaware of her attention, Theodore kept his eyes on Sidmouth. His jaw was held tight as if he barely restrained his temper.

“You must understand.” Sidmouth took up Margaret’s hand and kissed her palm gently. “I intended no harm. I had no way to know you were looking for your brother’s journal. I only meant to remain a gentleman in good standing in your eyes. You own my heart. Please tell me you’ll forgive me.”

“Of course, I forgive you, Colin.” Margaret breathed deeply, the two gazing into each other’s eyes. “I couldn’t think poorly of you. I was the person who insisted you speak to Stephen in the first place. I would never allow anyone to interfere with our relationship and I’m certain you misinterpreted my brother’s attitude. Stephen was under great duress. It’s another reason we so desperately want to find his journal.”

“I’m sorry to interrupt,” Theodore said, the sharp tone of his impatience running through the words. “You two can discuss whatever needs to be said later. Margaret may have forgiven youalready, Sidmouth, but your honor is definitely in question with me. Now, show me where you hid Stephen’s journal.”

Theodore followedSidmouth down the hall to Stephen’s study, attempting to rein in his temper. The young viscount’s decision to hide the journal was unconscionable, no matter how Sidmouth explained it away.

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