Page 45 of The Last Chance
Daventry drummed his fingers on the desk while in thought. “Why target Howard? Has he wronged someone? Did someone kill him to ensure one of you hang for murder? And if so, which one?”
Aaron glanced at Miss Lovelace, the thought of losing her causing his chest to constrict. “It’s obvious someone wishes to punish me.” There was an endless list of debt-ridden lords who had the means to arrange an elaborate charade.
“Then why not kill Howard and dump him on your doorstep? Why use a Mughal dagger? I have an expert in weaponry comingto assess the dagger this afternoon. He may offer valuable insight.”
“The Earl of Berridge is involved.” Aaron felt the truth of it coursing in his blood. “He’s telling everyone we framed his son for fraud, that Theo was the mastermind behind the forged bank plates.”
Daventry reached into his desk drawer, removed a letter and gave it to Aaron. “The treasury received this three days ago. The nameless sender accuses your brother Theo of stealing forged bank notes and killing Berridge’s only heir. You’re lucky I was there that night to witness the murder and arrest the culprit. Thankfully, I have the Home Secretary’s trust.”
Hot, murderous fury ignited in Aaron’s veins. The primal instinct to fight had him shooting out of the chair. No one threatened his family and lived to tell the tale.
“Then there is only one course of action left.” His heart pumped so fast his hands shook. “I’m grateful for everything you’ve done, and I ask that you work to clear Miss Lovelace’s name. Rothley is still willing to marry her.” He felt sick to his stomach at the thought. In his heart, she belonged to him but they were destined to walk different paths. “He will protect her now.”
“No!” Miss Lovelace jumped to her feet, grasping his arm, her touch the sweetest form of torture. “What do you mean to do?”
“What I should have done years ago.”
Daventry stood, bracing his hands on the desk, determined to make a point. “You cannot kill the Earl of Berridge. It will solve nothing and set your family back decades. They’ll no longer be the sons of a scoundrel but the brothers of a cold-blooded killer.”
“At least they’ll be alive,” Aaron argued.
“Their children will wear the stain of your misdeed.” Daventry tutted. “I credited you with more sense than to let your heart rule your head.”
“I’ll not let you do this.” Miss Lovelace placed her hand onhis back, the action going some way to settling his boiling blood. “You’re a good man. We’ll find a way out of this mess. I know it doesn’t mean much, but I will do whatever it takes to help you.”
Her support meant more than he could say. He’d lost count of the nights he’d sat alone in his study, looking for ways to solve his family’s problems. Needing someone to confide in who wasn’t his kin.
“Pull yourself together,” Daventry said firmly. “I can only keep the authorities at bay for so long. Things will get worse before they get better. There’s something else you should know. I suggest you sit and let me help you find a sensible solution.”
“If Berridge is involved, Iwillmake him pay.” He would make it look like a tragic accident, have rats nibble the carcass and disguise the evidence. “But I’ll keep my temper—for the time being.”
They all took a deep breath and sat down.
“There’s more at stake here than your family’s future.” Daventry offered Miss Lovelace a sympathetic smile. “For a woman, a loveless marriage is akin to slow torture.”
“I will never marry Rothley,” she said. “I don’t love him.”
“Rothley is a powerful man, but he will never see you as anything more than a sister. I’m sure Mr Chance was only thinking of your long-term welfare. One day, you will fall in love with someone who deserves you. The fact you’d settle for nothing less is admirable.”
The thought of her kissing someone the way she’d kissed him caused a roiling in Aaron’s gut. “I don’t want you to suffer more than you have already.”
She lifted her chin. “Allow me to judge what I’m willing to do. Don’t speak on my behalf like my feelings don’t matter.”
Though his instinct was to argue, he inclined his head.
“Back to our pressing problem.” Daventry took a moment to study his notebook. “Too many questions need answering. How did Venus know about your father’s watch and where did sheget it? Was the soprano moonlighting as a wealthy man’s mistress?”
“She was not,” Miss Lovelace said in a sabre-sharp tone.
Daventry ignored the interruption. “If Venus attends Mrs Flavell’s parties, did a member of the demimonde want to implicate you in a crime? Stabbing a man in the back is a symbol of betrayal. I’ll make discreet enquiries at Howard’s club. See if anyone made threats against the fellow.”
“We need to know if Mr Fitzpatrick paid someone to ruin his sister,” Miss Lovelace said. “That someone may have been Lord Howard. And I shall question Mr Parker’s maid. Perhaps if I reveal his affection for Venus, she might betray his trust.”
Daventry nodded. “An excellent idea.”
Aaron’s heart sank to his stomach. There were too many lines of enquiry and time was running out. “Hopefully, the weaponry expert will know where the dagger came from.”
Daventry relaxed back in the chair and considered Miss Lovelace over steepled fingers. “There’s a mental exercise I would encourage you to try, one to prompt the memory. Mr Chance will assist you.”
