Page 46 of Lord Trafford's Folly
Leafing through the book, he flipped to the entry he wished to read. Julius whistled through his teeth, realizing that the mystery was falling into place.
I think we found our man!
Audrey woke up,stretching her limbs out, and gradually noted the coolness of the sheets. She frowned, reaching out to where Julius had lain behind her and finding an empty space.
The room was dark, and she realized he must have extinguished the lamp. Sitting up, she pushed her hair back and clutched the sheet to her bosom with a befuddled head and a disappointed heart.
She knew their time was ending, but she had been savoring her one night in his arms. There had been a vague hope that perhaps they might make love one more time before she faced her fate. Something a little less ignominious than her initial deflowering. Something to remember when she returned alone to Stirling to the house she had inherited from her father.
Audrey’s throat thickened, and she blinked away the tears forming. She had known the risks of accompanying Julius to take care of him the day he had been stabbed. And she had known that Julius was a free spirit. She was not so conceited tobelieve that she could tame one like him. It still stung to wake up alone.
Had he enjoyed their time together?
Had she satisfied him as a man?
Would there be one last opportunity to feel his firm lips on hers?
Audrey jumped out of her skin when the door swung open, revealing Julius in the light of the oil lamp in his hand. Her hungry gaze devoured his half-naked form, his wide shoulders and narrow hips in silhouette, and she found she was both pleased he had returned and shy.
“I think I know who did it!” he announced, swinging the door shut behind him and striding over to the bed. “Now we just need to confirm it!”
Audrey pushed her hair from her face as Julius sat on the bed next to her, the mattress sagging under his weight. He put the oil lamp down on the table beside the bed, holding up a leather-bound book for her to see.
“Simon Scott!”
She tried to focus her thoughts. “Scott?”
“Simon Scott is the younger brother of Lord Blackwood, but they do not share the same mother. Lord Blackwood and his second brother Peter were issue from their Sussex-born mother, who appears to have died in childbirth based on the dates in Debrett’s. Their father, John Scott, went on to marry another woman who died without children before he married his third wife who is a wealthy peeress from Scotland—Lady Isla Scott was Lady Isla Campbell and she is a Scottish viscountess!”
Audrey leaned forward to peer to where he was pointing at the page. “So Simon Scott is descended from Campbells, but, as you said, there are infinite Campbells.”
Julius threw her a triumphant grin. “But few who have a household of liveried servants whose coats are lined withCampbell tartan. This is a new fashion, to flaunt one’s clanship amongst thebeau monde, only begun within the last few years and only by a few. If the footmen’s coats are lined with the pattern, they might have been provided overcoats with the same lining. The scoundrel who attempted to kill me might not have been dressed in livery in an attempt to hide his identity, but he might have used the only overcoat he possessed.”
Audrey’s mouth fell open. “Truly?”
“I saw the pattern myself at an event at Scott’s home. Abbott and I latched onto a friend who was attending, and the tartan intrigued me. The name Scott should have been a clue, but I saw the tartan myself. Scott’s mother runs his household, so she must have ordered the livery. I thought their whole appearance rather out of date, and Scott does not seem a man stuck in the last century, but his mother would have been young when this type of livery was in fashion. If Scott is a member of the Highland Society, she could have ordered the tartan as part of the design.”
She nibbled on her lip, considering the revelation. “When you say his mother is a viscountess …”
Julius nodded, his lean face in profile. Audrey appreciated the straight nose, sculpted chin, and firm jaw before flickering down to … appreciate … the muscled shoulders she had gripped earlier when Julius had picked her up.
“I know it is odd, but many of the titles in Scotland are granted a remainder which allows females to inherit if there are no males to take the title. Isla is the oldest of four sisters.”
Audrey blinked. “Stirling is far from the Scottish border, so I know little about our northern neighbors, but you seem to know quite a bit about a family so far from London.”
“There was another volume.” Julius pulled a second book from under his arm. “See, I found Isla’s family in here.”
“It is solved?”
Julius hesitated, pondering her question. “I suppose we need some sort of confirmation, but I think this points to the resolution. It is him. I feel it in my bones.”
Which meant this was their final evening together, as she had suspected.
“So … there is nothing to be done this evening?” She was taken aback by the seductive tone of her question. Lud, she sounded like a fallen woman, but she was damned if she would waste a second of the time she had left with the outrageous Lord Trafford. This was her one night with him, and she would not waste it.
Julius must have noted the purring quality, licking his lips and tilting his head toward her. “I suppose not,” he echoed in a suggestive tone.
“Good.”
