Page 59 of My Deceitful Duchess
“What would be the point?” She gave an uncomfortable shrug, her shoulders feeling tense and tight.
“Did you not…want children?” There was a hesitance in the question, as if he were skirting around a subject that might explode in his face like a rogue firework, if he did not take care.
“Does it matter? Whether I did or did not has no bearing on whether or not I am carrying one.” Somehow, her indifference had slipped away from her. The words tasted bitter, and worse—helpless.Hopeless. “If you are asking if I would prefernotto be with child, the answer is an unequivocalyes. I would neverwantto bring a child into the life this one will have. No child deserves that.”
His face was carefully stoic, but his eyes examined the tight clench of her hands in her lap, the rigidity of her posture. “You’re not going to be hanged, Jenny. You are not going to leave our baby without a mother,” he said, and something weak and desperate in her wanted so very badly to believe him. But she had long learned the futility of hope.Hopewas cruel enough to make a body reach out for it, only to learn too late that it had been nothing but a mirage, a comforting lie. Hope was the killer of dreams.
“It doesn’t matter,” she said, and it was the truth. What would happen would happen, and she could influence it not at all. Her path had been set years ago. Now she could only play out the part she had been given.
A rough sound emerged from his throat, and he swiped one hand over his mouth. A lock of untidy gold hair tumbled over his forehead. Once she would have brushed it back for him, and her fingers twitched in her lap with the remembered, familiar motion. He removed a leather folio from where it had been tucked beneath his arm and dropped it onto the low table, thumbing through the papers contained within.
“I wanted to show you,” he said, tersely, “the evidence I’ve collected. I don’t want you sitting here, day after day, imagining that you are going to die. I know Miss Amberley visited you recently—one of my informants overheard some ladies gossiping about it. I cannot imagine it was a pleasant experience. From what I was able to gather, she was…not kind.”
“I hadn’t expected her to be.” Ahh, Eugenia with the tea service. Jenny distracted herself with the ritual of pouring herself a cup of tea, leaving Sebastian to fend for himself. She sipped her tea, uninterested in the array of papers Sebastian had laid out before her.
Sebastian gestured to a large stack of papers. “Thisis testimony,” he said. “From as many of your past servants as I could locate. Dozens of them. One former maid even stated she unpacked a bottle of arsenic from Julian Amberley’s trunks when they visited. He’d said it was to ensure the household remained free of rats while he and his sister was in residence.” At her blank stare, he added, “Circumstantial, I grant you, but it was hardly the first time they’d visited, and he’d never bothered to bring his own arsenic before.”
Jenny felt a sigh trip up her throat. “Mr. Knight, I doubt it will be possible to prove that the Amberleys killed the late duke,” she said. “You should not waste your time.”
His brows drew together. “You’ve misunderstood,” he said. “I know I’m unlikely to succeed on that score. Too much time has passed to ever prove it conclusively. What I am attempting to prove instead is a pattern of behavior—one that will remove suspicion from you and place it where it truly belongs. And, hopefully, solve a much more recent murder.” He gestured to another stack of papers. “This is the accounting of assets of the late duke; anything of significant value. Most of it has been sold, but there is a curious discrepancy between the late duke’s assets and the statements given to the authorities by the Amberleys. If you’ll recall, they swore that you had made off with the estate jewelry.”
“Yes,” Jenny said, her voice inflected a bit more sharply than she’d intended. “I remember.”
“Well, the late duke’s man of business swears that those jewels did not go missing untilafteryou had left. In fact, they were not evenatVenbrough Manor at the time of the fire.” He rifled through the papers. “That would have been…yes, about the same time that the Amberleys began selling off assets. I have it on good authority that Julian Amberley was deeply in debt—a weakness for cards, it seems. The allowance he received from the duke as the duke’s heir was no longer enough to satisfy his gaming habits. And the late duke’s man of business told me that he had been directed to inform Amberley that the allowance would end as soon as the duke had acquired his true heir.”
Her heart leapt in her chest—and then plummeted just as quickly. “It’s still not enough,” she said.
“Men have been hanged on less, I assure you.” Another swipe through the assortment of pages. “Ah, here—in fact,youwere responsible for this. It is only because of your assistance that I was able to narrow this down so swiftly. You recall the Pendleton murder?”
A little shiver worked its way down her spine. “I could hardly forget.”
“Then you’ll remember also that I’ve long suspected it was connected to the string of thefts from noble households,” he said. “Look here, do you see these dates? They’re the ones that correspond most closely to when the thefts were discovered. And here—these are the lists of the attendees.”
Jenny frowned over the pages. “I’m not certain what I’m meant to be looking for,” she admitted.
“If you’ll notice,” he said, “Either Julian Amberley or Nerissa Amberley are included on each list—but never both. When I asked the victims about it, considering it’s quite unusual to only inviteonemember of such a family, I was informed that they’d both been invited, but one had always sent their regrets. I believe,” he said softly, “that they worked in tandem to commit these thefts. Perhaps the one attending left a window ajar in a disused room somewhere, to allow the other to sneak inside unseen.”
“But if they had beencaught—”
“If they had been caught, they could simply say they’d reconsidered their refusal, and presented their invitation, prevailing upon the good manners of their hostess.” He shuffled the stack of papers back together. “I posit that whoever accepted the invitation was meant to keep watch, perhaps serve as a distraction while the other—who hadnotbeen expected to attend, and would not therefore be considered a suspect—pilfered the jewels. That they traded off roles in the event that they might ever be suspected.”
“Then that would meanNerissamurdered Lady Pendleton,” Jenny said. And then she sighed. “But you still can’t prove it.” Her brow creased as she thumbed through a scattering of pages—sketches, it seemed. “What is this?” she asked.
“The bane of my existence, presently,” he muttered beneath his breath. “Here; I have an accounting of it somewhere. It’s a list of the most valuable jewels reported stolen from each victim.” He bent his head, searching through the stack.
But Jenny had eyes only for a single sketch she’d removed from the stack. “I have seen this,” she said, peering down at the charcoal sketch of a brooch. “But it was a pendant, not a brooch. Is the stone meant to be a sapphire?”
Sebastian’s head jerked up. “Yes,” he said, and plucked the page from her hand. “Where did you see it?”
“Nerissa Amberley wore a pendant with a stone like that when she came. She likes to show off, I think.” Glittering with jewels, as if lording her position and wealth over the whole of theTon. Attempting to command an unearned respect.
Some strange expression flickered across his face. “It’s a star sapphire,” he said. “Can you tell me how many rays it had?”
The bars emanating from the center of the gem, she supposed he meant. “Oh,” she said. “I’m afraid I didn’t countthem. Perhaps a dozen?”
“More than six?” There was something oddly insistent about his tone. “Can you be certain of that?”
“I didn’tcountthem!” she said again. “But, yes—I’m certain there were more than six. Why?” she asked. “Why is it so important?”
