Page 94 of Temptress in Disguise
Daventry arrived with Gibbs in tow. “We’ll take matters from here.”
Adams wiped blood-stained spittle from his lips. He stared through eyes as purple as plums. “All’s fair in love and war, lad. It won’t be the last you’ll see of me. I might visit you in your dreams.”
Aramis resisted the urge to punch him again. “Once the hangman pulls the lever, I’ll not give you a second thought.”
ChapterTwenty-One
Office of the Order
Hart Street, Covent Garden
“What’s so important you would call us here at such short notice?” Naomi scanned the plush drawing room Mr Daventry used to greet clients, trying to stem her nerves. She tugged off her gloves and perched on the edge of the damask sofa. “The tone of your note suggests there’s a problem.”
Aramis sat beside her, his thigh touching hers, oblivious to the thrum of tension in the air. He looked relaxed, not agitated, and was in no hurry to press Mr Daventry for information.
Mr Daventry raised a calming hand and smiled. “I wanted to update you on our progress. Though I’m keen to know how Miss Grant is faring.”
Naomi put her hand to her heart, wishing she had good news to report. “We went to visit her yesterday at Merryville.” It was an odd name for an asylum, though the private facility afforded every comfort. There was a moment when she thought Lydia had recognised her. A brief flicker of affection in her sad eyes. “I’m afraid there’s no real change. Her physician said complex matters of the mind can take years to unravel.”
In one respect, it was a blessing in disguise.
Mr Daventry had spoken to the Home Secretary and explained how Jacob Adams had manipulated Lydia with a complex web of lies. It’s the only reason she wasn’t tried for aiding a criminal.
“Let’s pray she makes a full recovery.” Mr Daventry sat in the chair by the hearth. He took his leather portfolio from the low table and opened it at a particular page. “I’m told the Prerogative Court ruled in your favour and your father’s original will stands.”
Not exactly. A woman in an asylum was not considered fit to inherit. “We cannot make any long-term decisions at present, and so have decided to lease Hartford Hall.” The money would pay for Lydia’s care.
“On the subject of wills, I heard this morning that Mr Holland’s sister is the heir to Croft Manor, though she’ll be left with little option but to sell the land.”
That harrowing day at the manor would live with Naomi forever. She still shivered whenever she smelled smoke. “After what happened to her brother, I suspect she will want a fresh start.”
A brief silence ensued.
The housekeeper, Mrs Gunning, arrived with the tray. While the friendly woman poured tea, Naomi studied Mr Daventry. He had not called them to the office to discuss Lydia or the will. Why did he not get to the point?
Typically, he chose the moment Naomi was sipping her beverage to inform her Mr Ingram had been questioned for fraud.
She almost choked.
Aramis sat forward. “Where is he? I have a private matter to discuss with him. He needs to know his act of violence against my wife won’t be tolerated.”
Naomi touched his thigh. “We discussed this. We’re not dwelling on the past.” Mr Ingram would not bother them. Nor would Mrs Wendon now she had been threatened with gaol for giving false evidence. Still, the look in Aramis’ eyes said Mr Ingram might wake one night to find a threatening shadow looming over his bed.
“The clerk stated Ingram was tricked into signing the will. He was released with a warning to be less trusting in future.”
Aramis scoffed. “If there’s evidence proving Ingram was duped, explain why Jeremiah Grant was sentenced to transportation, not the noose.”
Mr Daventry gave an apologetic shrug. “Based on Lydia’s mental state, the Lord Chief Baron believed there was an argument to suggest Jeremiah acted in the best interests of the estate.”
Though Naomi despised her uncle, she did not want him to hang. “I think we all know greed was the motive.” And Melissa was a master manipulator.
They drank their tea, and the discussion turned to the night she had taken command of Aramis’ vehicle.
Mr Daventry chuckled. “I would have paid a king’s ransom to see his face when you drew the pistol. Who knew Aramis Chance could be bested by a woman half his size?”
Naomi glanced at her husband, love filling her heart. “Make no mistake, sir, he is as dangerous as they say.” But she had the privilege of knowing the caring man, the loveable rogue, the passionate lover. “But I believe we were destined to be together.”
“Then you don’t regret marrying him?” Mr Daventry looked at Aramis before his wary gaze fell on her. “What would you do if you suddenly discovered the Reverend Smollett had been arrested and your marriage was declared void?”
