Page 76 of The Rise of a Forsaken Lady
Moments later a cup was placed before him, “The Magistrate is on his way, My Lord.”
“Thank you.”
Sitting back, Heath read over his notes and frowned in contemplation. Had he left out anything? Sipping the coffee, his mind went back to Penelope. She must be worried. He knew when she was, a tiny adorable crease would be in her forehead and her nose would be wrinkled so slightly. He wished he was there to soothe her worries and kiss her fears away.
Glancing down at his talking points, he wondered how long it was before the Magistrate, Sir Nathaniel Conant, would arrive but knew the man had to be discreet. It was not every day an Agent of the Crown would summon him. Staring into the murky brown remains in the cup, he pondered how to tell Penelope the truth.
“Mr. Murray,” a deep voice said while the door opened, and Heath stood.
Sir Nathaniel Conant, the Magistrate of the Bow Street, a Knight of the Realm was standing before him but with him was another man, tall and dark-haired, Lord Wethington, the man who had sent him to the Allerton’s house. Heath was surprised to see him as the man was partly invisible in his dealings.
“Your Worship, My Lord—” he began but Lord Wethington stopped him.
“We will not have this conversation here,” Lord Wethington interrupted him. “The Magistrate has formally cleared you off all accusations, and I am here to take you back to where you can speak freely.”
Facing the Magistrate, Heath bowed, “Thank you, Your Worship.”
“My pleasure, Mr. Murray,” the Magistrate said. “Now, please, go with Mr. Wethington.”
Taking up the papers, Heath nodded, “Very well.”
Leaving the office, they approached two different carriages, the Magistrate was helped into one by a liveried footman and he and Lord Worthington entered the other. Taking a seat facing the Lord he said, “Do we need to go to Westminster to speak or can we do it here?”
“I would rather we go to a secure place, but I see no issues speaking here.”
“Lord Allerton is no traitor,” Heath said plainly. “He is surrounded by those who are leaning to the dissention, but the Earl is not one. We have had our eyes on Swanville for years and I think he is the main perpetrator here. However, there is a second party that is starting trouble, and that is Lord Hillbrook. He might have started the fire to harm me or destroy Lady Penelope’s property to gain a stronger hold on her…somehow.”
“A stronger hold?” Lord Wethington said as the carriage turned on a street toward the Old Bailey. “Is he the Lady’s suitor?”
“He is,” Heath said while swallowing over the acid churning in his stomach. “But Lady Penelope is only humoring him for the sake of her brother.”
The Lord’s eyes narrowed with investigators’ sharpness, despite never being in the field himself. “And you know this how?”
“She told me herself,” Heath replied knowing that a sharp censure was coming, and he was proven right.
Lord Wethington strictly admonished him for crossing the professional line of his servant station. However, when Heath explained that Lord Allerton had made him a personal guard to Lady Penelope, his censure was lightened. They had arrived at the Newgate Prison and were taken up to the Bailey where the Lord had his private office.
Sitting, Heath began from the beginning, how the Viscount, another Agent for the Crown had gotten killed, and how he suspected the shot had come from the house itself which meant one of the guests there was the killer.
“Lord Swanville was there,” Heath repeated. “And he is a known supporter of Bonaparte.”
Then, he went on to describe the shooting in the hunt and how he suspected it to be from an air rifle but could not check the Earl’s gun cabinet because Hillbrook had contested him.
“Lady Penelope was the one who, well, for lack of a better word, bailed me out,” Heath said. “She told the Lord I had been with her all day, assisting her on her secret rides.”
Again, he was pinned with a shrewd gaze. “And she did that freely?”
“Yes,” Heath nodded. “I could not give any other excuse better than that one.”
Wethington leaned back while his fingers drummed on the table between them, “You seem to have forged a…connection with this Lady, Mr. Murray. It goes against all protocol—which I am sure you know.”
Oh, he knew it, but if forging a friendship with Penelope was breaking protocol, he did not dare explain the love he had found with her.
“She has very few people who understand her, Wethington,” Heath said. “I think we found middle ground, and she trusts me.”
Wethington hummed and then tugged out a piece of paper from his jacket pocket. He then handed it over to him. Opening it, Heath read a statement of pardon from the Magistrate. “You are free to go back to the Allerton’s home but not today. The constables are still making their investigation, and it would look suspicious to release you so quickly. I estimate a day or two before you can go back. You will be staying at an Inn while I direct a search of Swanville’s premises.”
“And the ridge where I found the pellet from the air bullet,” Heath said. “Send some men to search there. They might find more evidence.”
