Page 42 of Her Heart's Rightful Earl
“What, Carrington?” Alexander’s face reddened in fury. “You did not tell me this! But my young brother may be in danger! Clearly,these undesirable individuals are threatening my sibling and coercing him into precarious predicaments!”
Thomas and the captain shared a glance that suggested their train of thought was not to frame Marcus as the victim.
“It would have been ineffective to tell you, Wellwood,” Thomas justified. “Marcus is a grown man, an earl no less! And what could you have done from far away in Scotland? There would be no benefit in worrying you.”
Alexander seemed to accept this and frowned into his lap.
“Marcus was raised with exactly the same moral code as I. The notion of him collaborating with criminals is absurd.”
Alexander stood once again and paced the uneven stone floor of the dimly lit church. “Desperation drives men to many things—selling family heirlooms, dismissing servants, taking risky loans—but not to patricide.” He turned, appealing to the two men. Thomas held his eye, clearly anguished. Captain Morrison looked away, avoiding Alexander’s plight.
“You forget,” Alexander said, laughing convivially, “that Marcus was terribly young when my father was murdered! Why, he was fresh out of university. I recall he had recently returned from graduating at Cambridge.”
His audience said nothing, and Alexander sat at another pew, slightly distanced from his comrades.
“Poor Marcus. A young graduate and inexplicably tasked with arranging the staged disappearance of his older brother, grieving his father, and the weight of being an earl prematurely, a title he never desired. My brother’s struggle with debt proves his inexperience, not his guilt.”
Alexander appealed to his fellow investigators, but they would not meet his eye.
***
As Alexander’s eyes adjusted to the darkness, he hoped that Thomas would make it home without incident. They had spotted this disused stable on the outskirts of an estate as they walked out from the deserted church, checking left and right to ensure they had not been seen, and the friends parted their way for the night.
It was no longer safe for Alexander to plan where he would stay each night; he needed to embrace spontaneity and accept any shelter nature may offer up.
He dug out a small cavity in the hay, which emitted a fusty scent of mould and earthy damp, and he sat down in it, hoping the haywould provide a little more warmth than his previous evening in the open-air ruins of a castle.
As he sat, he worried at a loose flap of skin next to his thumbnail, thinking of all that the captain and Thomas had revealed.
Are you in danger, my brother?Alexander muttered to himself. He found that he had developed quite a monologue with himself during his years in exile, but tonight he must be careful to keep his voice low.
Here I am, hiding out like a coward, when you are being pursued by criminals, hungry for your money and devoid of ethical method. I should be there protecting you.
He had hoped to visit Marcus and see for himself whether some form of madness had manipulated his mind as Arabella and Thomas both insinuated. But now, he realized, if criminals were controlling Marcus’s actions and threatening him, it would be quite impossible for Alexander to reappear to his brother. It would risk the whole investigation and not only his freedom but also put all the people who were involved in acute danger.
Alexander didn’t expect sleep to reach him, but he closed his eyes in some attempt to rest and determined to himself that they would need to find the murderer fast to draw this disaster to a close. His initial incentive had been to prove his own innocence, but now he had a new driving force: to rescue his brother.
Chapter 13
Arabella’s nerves increased as the day progressed. She had received a note from Thomas, via his footman, that she should meet Alexander at the folly at midnight, and her mind danced with the varied potential scenarios that could play out.
Perhaps he would regretfully report that the investigation had drawn to an unfortunate close, and he would have to return to Scotland, never to see her again. She hoped, however, that he would task her with some contribution; some way in which she could be of help. The waiting made her jittery and anxious, and so she was relieved when the maid announced a visitor.
Lord Thomas Carrington entered the drawing room, and Charlotte enthusiastically greeted him.
“I am indeed here to walk with you, Miss Charlotte,” he said, smiling gallantly. “However, I have something for your sister!”
Arabella stood alert as Thomas stepped forward, offering a book.
“This book we discussed at dinner the other evening.” He widened his eyes to emphasize the profundity. “Please do borrow it. May I suggest a particularly fascinating paragraph on page sixty-seven and another on page ninety-eight?”
Arabella accepted the ruse gleefully. “Oh, wonderful! Thank you, Lord Carrington. I shall read this afternoon!”
“What book is it?” Charlotte peered over at the cover, which was fortunately bound only in black leather and had no embossed words on the cover.
“It is a story of a fugitive, a captain, and the journey to emancipation!” Thomas announced with vigour.
“Oh.” Charlotte wrinkled her nose. “It doesn’t sound like my sort of thing at all. But you’ll enjoy it, sister!”
