Page 45 of No One's Bride
Had she moaned? It must have been when she lost her wits.
“Liar. I didnae make a sound.”
His lips curled in amusement. “You were panting, love, begging for more with each ragged breath.” He surprised her by clasping her hand. “Come. We shall continue this discussion on the journey home. When I intend to provide proof of my claim.”
Nerves mingled with excitement. Ailsa gripped his hand tightly, refusing to admit nothing in her life had ever felt so right.
“So, let’s assume the murderer or his accomplice cleaned the hall to remove evidence. To hide two sets of footprints.” One person could not have subdued Mr Hibbet and tied him to the table.
“It’s possible.” Lord Denton tugged her hand gently and drew her into the vast drawing room that served as a living space, study and dining room. The curtains were open, a sliver of moonlight giving faint illumination. “Mr Hibbet was well read,” he said with admiration.
Ailsa’s heart warmed upon seeing the rows of leather-bound volumes in the bookcase. “I doubt a man on Mr Hibbet’s pay could afford to purchase such an extensive library.”
“They could be heirlooms, though I’d wager the antique furnishings in this apartment do not belong to an auction house assistant.”
“They must belong to old Mr Chadwick.”
“Indeed. Else a next of kin would have come to claim their inheritance.” He gestured to the imposing walnut desk. “We should search the drawers.”
Practically hugging his arm, she moved with him until they caught sight of the ruined Persian rug, the burgundy bloodstain stopping them dead in their tracks.
Mr Hibbet had bled profusely.
“Does a man nae lose less blood when stabbed in the heart?”
“Yes, death is quick.”
“Then how do ye account for this?”
He shrugged. “There were no other wounds on the body.”
“The murderer would have made a sizeable cut to remove the organ and would have had to break the sternum.” Feeling the heat of Lord Denton’s gaze, she glanced up. “I own a copy of Vesalius’Anatomy Humani Corporis. My father knows Mr Jordan from the School of Anatomy in Manchester. He gave me a brief education on the text.”
He grinned. “Of course.”
“Do ye find something amusing?”
“No, it’s just that few people impress me, madam.” He turned his attention to the vast red stain. “This may not be Hibbet’s blood. To stage the perfect scene, the villain may have used pig’s blood.”
Ailsa considered the remnants of rope still fastened to the desk and recalled something her friend Lillian had said. “I’ve something to ask, though such a question should nae grace a lady’s lips.”
Keeping a firm grip on her hand, Lord Denton faced her. “As our relationship has already breached the bounds of propriety, you can ask me anything.”
She pushed aside her embarrassment. “Might the lady have lured Mr Hibbet into playing a game? He may have asked her to restrain him. She could have taken her pleasure while sitting astride his helpless body. Would that nae place her in the perfect position to thrust a knife into his chest?”
“What an interesting notion.” Mischief danced in his eyes. “Now I’m wondering what other books you have in your library, Miss MacTavish, and who else has offered tuition. Your knowledge of relations is more extensive than I expected.”
Heat flooded her cheeks. “One only need study the history of the Romans to learn of the many ways people perform congress.”
“I’m sure it will make for an interesting conversation at a later date. I’m beginning to understand what you meant when you said talking makes kissing better.”
She’d said talking was as important as kissing when it came to attraction but was in no mind to argue now. “Let us search the desk.”
They spent a few minutes rifling through the drawers, finding nothing but loose coins, a comb and a pile of unpaid bills. Despite studying the spines of many volumes lining the bookcase, nothing captured their attention.
“There are nae creases in the bedsheets, so we know the couple were nae frolicking,” she said when they moved to Mr Hibbet’s chamber.
Lord Denton strode around the room, looking in the armoire and chest, dropping to his hands and knees to check under the bed. “If you had a letter from a secret lover, where would you hide it?”
