Page 72 of A Bride for the Beastly Duke
“How do they not know who you really are?”
He gave a half smile. “And who is that?”
“Well, the Marquess, obviously.”
He looked away, shaking his head. “The Marquess of Pemberton died two years ago in Andalusia. His body was never found.”
Edward blinked at him, completely nonplussed. “I see. And why exactly are you masquerading as him? Why here? Why now?”
“Last place they would think to look for me. Did I mention they want me dead too?”
“How do you know my brother? How did he come to confide in you?”
Pemberton turned. “I am an assassin. The French knew that the English were planning to eliminate a man for his title deed. They hired me to kill the assassin.”
Edward’s heart dropped. “So, you killed my brother?”
“No. In the course of getting to know him so as to trick him into revealing his plans, I came to understand that all I had to do to stop the murder was tell him the truth. That this man was no traitor, just a man determined to keep his land. I did not reckon on the English killing their own—especially since he was aduke.”
“Do you know who killed him then?” Edward asked, his heart hammering away in his chest.
Pemberton turned to look him in the eye and smiled. “Yes, I do.”
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Ava tried her best to act as if nothing of significance was happening. Her mother kept shooting her loaded glances as she refilled the Dowager Marchioness’ glass with more port while Margaret looked increasingly upset by the Marquess’ prolonged absence.
She poured her sister another cup of tea. “Margaret, you should show the Dowager Marchioness your skill with the pianoforte?”
Margaret gave her an incredulous look, and she widened her eyes at her sister, trying to tell her without words to calm down. With a sigh, Margaret fixed a smile on her face, getting to her feet. “Of course. Is there a particular tune you would like me to play?” she asked the Dowager.
“Oh, I would love to hearFur Elise,” she replied excitedly.
Margaret nodded as she went to sit on the bench in front of the instrument. Ava leaned back with a relieved smile. She verymuch enjoyed Margaret’s musical talent, and while the music played, she did not need to keep the group distracted.
“Prepare yourself for a treat.” Lord Jaxton said with a wide smile as he rubbed his hands together. “My daughter is quite the accomplished musician.”
The Dowager nodded and smiled. “I look forward to it.”
Margaret began to play, and even Ava forgot about her stresses for a moment, allowing herself to get lost in the music. She hoped that Edward was faring well in his interrogation of the Marquess.
“Who was it?” Edward demanded.
“What are you asking me? Are you asking who wielded the blade or who gave the order?”
Edward glared. “I’m asking who killed my brother,” he growled.
Pemberton sighed, “Very well, I shall tell you. Sit down and pour me a drink.” He looked down again at his likeness before looking up with a smile as Edward handed him a drink. They both sat down on wing chairs, opposite each other.
“I don’t come to England much. I prefer Spain as a home base and France as a place to work.” He grinned, “It helps that many of my targets are Frenchmen.”
“Can we get to—” Edward began impatiently.
Pemberton held up his hand in a quelling gesture. “Patience. Let me tell you the tale.”
Edward let out an annoyed breath but subsided, taking a fortifying drink of his brandy.
“Good. So, I was already in France when your brother’s platoon arrived. The platoon leader sent me a message, asking me to pay a courtesy visit. I went, assuming that he must have a spy in his camp who wanted my services. Turns out, the platoon leader was the one with a message for me.”
