Page 11 of Long Live the Baron
“What is your name, pray tell?”
“Wesley, my lady. I have worked at Ridley House for several years.” He answered in a good-natured manner, apparently not offended by her cousin’s interrogation.
“Where is the butler, Michaels?”
“He is making arrangements regarding our household’s change in circumstances, my lady.”
“Very well. We are here for the duchess.”
“Of course, my lady. She is expecting you in the red parlor.” Wesley bowed politely before leading them down a hall. Lily pattered behind, almost running to keep up with the taller countess and even taller footman. She barely had time to note the worn carpets and faded wallpaper when they came to a stop.
The footman knocked and then opened the door to announce their arrival before departing. As he left, Lily caught his eye and mouthed an apology for Sophia’s earlier inquisition. The news of the baron’s untimely demise must have set her cousin on edge after her prior experiences.
Wesley smiled in response as he drew the door shut, leaving Lily relieved that he appeared unaffected by the encounter.
* * *
Michaels showedthe coroner into the gloomy library, an expression of mild distaste stamped across his face. Brendan growled beneath his breath, his irritation with the servant particularly sharp today.
He had never gotten along with the man, who until today had been the baron’s man. The butler’s disdain for the baron’s heir was subtle, but obvious. Something Brendan had refrained from confronting him with, but had been a source of aggravation these many years that he had resided at Ridley House since the baron had sent him away to London.
Once the butler departed, Brendan turned his attention to the coroner, Mr. Arnold Grimes, and his heart sank. The man was medium height, with severely cut, receding iron hair and a graying close-cropped beard that put Brendan in mind of a Puritan. He wore a black coat and trousers with a white linen shirt. The overall effect was that of no color, while the sour expression on his face did nothing to belie that impression.
His cold presence sucked the very life out of the room, while the runner, Briggs, shifted away with a barely disguised revulsion.
Sniffing in an affected manner, the coroner addressed the duke and the earl. “Your Grace. My lord. I am honored to make your acquaintance.”
Brendan rubbed his temple. The words were correct, but the tone did not match. The coroner’s sneering dislike was obvious to all present, and he had failed to bow in respect to the high-ranking noblemen.
“Mr. Grimes, your reputation precedes you.” The duke gave a slight nod, his gray eyes sweeping over the coroner without missing a beat. Halmesbury was a skilled negotiator, and his composure was practiced and aloof. Any candor he had displayed with the runner earlier had vanished, clarifying to Brendan that his brother-in-law recognized the coroner as a threat.
Brendan drew in a breath to steady his nerves and straightened from his chair to come forward to meet the man. It would not do to display any weakness in his presence.
The coroner frowned slightly at Brendan before dismissing him without bothering to greet him. “Briggs, let me hear the facts.”
Briggs cleared his throat, then read from his notebook carefully. “The baron appears to have been killed sometime around midnight. The butler reports he returned home for dinner, and he was still dressed in his clothes from the coronation when he apparently encountered someone in his study. He was clubbed over the head with a horse statue, which was found bloodied and lying by the body. Mr. Ridley returned home just after dawn to meet with his father, finding the body about twenty minutes past the hour of six o’clock.”
The coroner turned a stony stare to Brendan, who had to refrain from shivering at the blast of icy contempt. “And where were you?”
Brendan frowned, drawing himself up and responding in as haughty a manner as he could summon. This man clearly loathed the peerage. Or perhaps he just loathed everyone. “I was out.”
“Out?”
“Out.” Brendan refused to expound. It would not do to allow the coroner to get the upper hand.
Briggs cleared his throat. “One of the servants should be able to confirm his arrival once I question them.”
“I certainly hope so.”
Brendan kept a straight face at Grimes’s response, but his stomach tightened in agitation and he wondered what it would take to persuade Harriet to have mercy on him and provide him with the alibi he needed.
* * *
Lily poureda cup of tea for the duchess, adding a squeeze of lemon before handing Her Grace the cup and saucer. The duchess accepted it with a small smile of gratitude, her face wan in the dim room. She was an elegant young woman, with a riot of chestnut curls framing her face and brandy eyes that reflected the low light, but her eyelids were puffy and red.
Observing the signs of Her Grace’s grief made Lily feel guilty for treating the situation as an opportunity to escape the monotony of her day. Lady Halmesbury had just lost her father in a brutal murder. Despite her renowned babbling, Lily could not find any words to comfort Her Grace.
She glanced at Sophia, who was staring out a window as if her thoughts were a million miles away.
