Page 24 of How to Love a Duke in Ten Days
She returned to distribute the saucers before settling herself in a graceful flourish, arranging her spectacles just so. “All right. Now let’s do hear what calamity you’ve found yourself embroiled in.”
Once Francesca found herself on the settee in the company of her trusted friends, she lost the bluster in her sails. She curled around her cup of tea like a vagrant would a fire on a winter’s night.
“I’m not even certain where to start.” She exhaled wearily. “I haven’t allowed myself a moment’s sleep the entire three days I’ve been at Castle Redmayne.”
“Why are we here, Frank?” Alexandra asked over a careful sip of the amber liquid. “How is it possible you’re getting married? And to someone you suspect of murder?”
Francesca’s hand began to tremble, and she set her saucer down, untouched. “I didn’t know of the betrothal contract until Redmayne summoned me.”
“Summoned you?” Alexandra couldn’t imagine strong-willed Francesca ever answering anything close to a summons.
“I would have declined,” she admitted. “But I needed a reason to find a way into the castle. How else am I to ascertain if his family was responsible?”
“What makes you think they were?” Cecelia gulped down her cup of tea and poured another.
“Because, when I read the betrothal contract, I found something I couldn’t ignore…”
“Which is?” Alexandra tucked her slippers beneath her, worrying the inside of her lip with her teeth.
“The date the contract was signed, was the very day prior to the massacre at Mont Claire,” Francesca revealed.
Ever skeptical, Alexandra asked, “Have you any other evidence against them? The timing is suspicious but wouldn’t bear water in court.”
Francesca shook her head and let out a heavy, exhausted breath. “Every night, I’ve been scouring the castle, poring over various documents and historical texts, even the diaries and ledgers of the late Duke of Redmayne, and I’d found very little. But then I realized I’d been investigating the wrong Redmayne.”
“Your betrothed, you mean?” Cecelia puzzled, conducting some hasty maths in her head. “He would have been all of… twelve when your family was killed.”
Francesca became more animated, leaning forward to declare, “The mother, Gwyneth. She has a son from a previous marriage, one who was adopted by Redmayne, but could never be his ducal heir. Gwyneth’s first husband was a Scotsman and, as it turns out, in line to inherit the Mont Claire title. I need to not only find outhowclose he was to inherit, but I’d also need to ascertain malicious intent on her part.”
“Or on the part of the son.” Alexandra placed a chilling puzzle piece in place. “Where is he now? Andwhois he? I suddenly wish I paid more attention to thehaute ton.”
Francesca leaned forward conspiratorially. “He sits on the Queen’s Bench as Justice of the High Court.”
Cecelia gasped. “You mean—”
“Yes. The High Court justice rumored to be the empire’s next Lord Chancellor. Sir Cassius Ramsay.”
“I’ve heard of His Worship.” Cecelia made a face and set her tea down as if it had put her off. “He’s said to be all fire and brimstone. Forbidding, merciless, and utterly moralistic.”
Francesca shuddered. “Sounds horrifying.”
Cecelia nodded her agreement. “The Vicar Teague plans to vote for him, if that’s any indication.”
It was all they needed.
“It certainly would help Ramsay’s chances at a chancellorship with the traditionalists if he were to inherit an earldom,” Alexandra ventured.
“It certainly would.” Francesca’s eyes sparkled with spite.
“Which gives him ample motive,” Cecelia said.
Alexandra went to the sideboard and poured them all a spot of brandy, thinking that the news of the night certainly called for something stronger than tea.
And the worst was yet to come. She’d yet to reveal her blackmailer.
Francesca appeared both doubtful and indecisive as she mulled over her problem. “At the time of the massacre, Ramsay would have been seventeen. Almost eighteen. Old enough to commit a murder, but I wouldn’t dare say old enough to instigate such a concentrated effort.”
“The question remains, why, after all this time, would you be summoned to wed his younger brother? Does Redmayne really want to marry you? Or did Ramsay orchestrate the entire thing to lure you here in order to cut the last branch from the Cavendish family tree?”
