Page 95 of Project Duchess
“If you’re lying to protect him—” Sheridan began.
Their mother entered the room. “Careful, Son. You’re mistaken about your cousin. And accusing your brother isn’t going to help matters.”
Sheridan regarded her coldly. “Stay out of this, Mother. You may have forgotten, but Joshua summoned Father to the dower house on the night Father died.”
“I’m sorry, Son, but you’re wrong,” she said. “Joshua didn’t summon anyone. Or at least I don’t think he did.”
That gave all of them pause. “What do you mean?” Grey ventured.
She pulled out a piece of paper and an accounting ledger. “Thisis the summons Joshua supposedly sent to Maurice. When you spoke to me earlier about it, Grey, I thought perhaps I still had it, so I dug through my chest of drawers and found the note where I’d shoved it that night. Then I compared it to what Joshua listed as his expenses in his post as gamekeeper. The writing doesn’t appear to match, at least to me.”
“Let me see that.” Sheridan glanced at the summons signature and then at the known signature of Joshua. “Damn,” he muttered under his breath. He handed the note and the ledger to the constable.
After a moment’s perusal, the constable lifted his head to stare at Sheridan. “Forgive me, Your Grace, but I agree with your mother. They clearly don’t match.”
“Perhaps Joshua got someone else to write it for him,” Sheridan said.
“Who?” Grey asked. “The maidservant, who probably can’t even read? Beatrice, whose handwriting could also be easily compared to the note? And wouldn’t this person have reported him the moment Father turned up dead in the river?”
Sheridan scrubbed a hand over his face. “You’re right. Even I can’t accept such a farfetched idea.”
When Beatrice sagged in relief, Grey looped his arm about her waist. At last, Sheridan realized he’d been wrong about Wolfe. Beatrice’s brother might be a cantankerous son-of-a-bitch, but he hadn’t killed anyone. Grey was certain of that.
So Grey had been right to trust Beatrice and her brother. Now he felt vindicated in his choice.
“I told you,” she whispered in his ear.
“You did.” He pulled her close. “And you were right.”
She let Grey hold her a moment, then slipped away from him to face the constable. “Sir, I think you should know my brother was with me the night of Uncle Maurice’s death. He couldn’t have committed the murder even if he’d wanted to.”
The constable nodded. “I will take that into consideration.” He turned to Sheridan. “Your Grace? Are you satisfied that your cousin is not involved in your father’s death?”
Sheridan huffed out a breath. “I suppose.”
Then Wolfe himself sauntered in. “I’m here to profess my innocence.” He crossed his arms over his chest. “I haven’t murdered anyone, and certainly not Uncle Maurice.”
Grey shook his head. Clearly, Wolfe had decided against following Grey’s advice. Not that it mattered now.
Though it seemed to matter to Sheridan, for he narrowed his gaze on Grey. “You told me you hadn’t seen him. So how did he know about my suspicions?”
Before Grey could answer, Wolfe said, “I heard you’d been asking about me in town, that you’d talked to the man who constructed the bridge, and that you’d brought the constable here to arrest someone for murder. It didn’t take much to figure out whom you wanted to accuse.”
When Sheridan eyed Wolfe askance over what truly was an outlandish claim, Grey said, “Don’t listen to him. I told him to leave.” He nodded to Wolfe, his soon-to-be brother-in-law. “Thank you for trying to help, Wolfe, but I don’t want the smallest hint of suspicion hanging over your head. It’s not fair to you.”
Then Grey smiled at his brother. “I knew he was innocent, so I helped him. I wasn’t sure you’d listen to reason about his alibi.”
Sheridan crossed his arms over his chest. “I still think thatsomeonemurdered Father. Perhaps not Joshua, but someone else.”
“I understand,” the constable said. “And if you can provide some proof of that, I’ll be happy to investigate.”
“The note is the obvious place to start,” Grey put in.
“True.” The constable glanced at the people gathered there. “Do any of you have an idea of who might have forged the note summoning the previous Duke of Armitage to the dower house?”
No one offered any suggestions.
“Very well,” said the constable. “If any of you discover anything, let me know. In the meantime, I shall be looking further into the matter.”
