Page 29 of The Trouble With Titles
Personally, she thought the Scotts were something of a miserable bunch, and that Simon was the only selfless member of the family, to a fault. How he had escaped the personality flaws of his brothers—who would put Narcissus himself to shame—his imperious father, and his passionless mother was a question for the great philosophers.
As much as she liked John, and even Nicholas when he was sober, Madeline did not trust that they were incapable of doing wrong, given the right motive. She could like them without trusting them, as Simon should do.
Fortunately, Simon had agreed to speak with the duke after he met with his solicitors, but in the meanwhile, she was vexed. Vexed that destiny had seen fit to almost bring them back together, yet he was still out of reach.
And since Isla had already provided a false alibi that had been disproved, it would be even more impossible for Madeline to come forward in Simon’s defense. She would be met with disbelief and scandal. Simon’s mother was a vacuous doll who had ruined the only genuine advantage Simon had possessed in the aftermath of this heinous murder.
She could not believe that Simon—a competent manager of the Blackwood estates—had been so stupid as to allow a false alibi that could be disproven so easily. It was likely he had gone along with it in a bid to protect Madeline, but it was stupid nevertheless.
What a dunderhead!
Patience had led to lost time, and far too many mistakes to count. While Simon met with his legal firm, Madeline was determined to speak with Molly in the morning. There must be more that she could do thanbe patient!
Madeline had two problems to overcome. To protect Simon against the accusation, she needed to know if anyone in his household had perpetrated the crime. And, of higher concern, if one of Simon’s mad relations had killed a person two months earlier, he could be in danger.
Molly was the one person she could think of to speak to. She seemed to have a good head on her shoulders, an intimate knowledge of the eccentric Scott household, and no agenda other than to set things right.
If Madeline attempted to discuss these complications with her mother, Eleanor would be far too concerned that Madeline could be hurt, or about losing her agreement to work with a matchmaker.
Talking with Henri would be useless—she was far too concerned with what the denizens of Parliament might have to say about this affair rather than Madeline’s personal desires or her integrity as a woman to support the man she loved.
Simon was waking from an intoxicated slumber, and she was going to be here to assist him back to his personal quest to find his place in the world. Their place in the world. Together. As soon as she could overcome the last remaining obstacle to their happiness.
She entered through the library, shutting the terrace doors and turning to cross the room when she came face to face with her mother. Madeline shrieked in surprise, clapping a hand over her racing heart.
“Mama?”
“You have taken to visiting the garden after dinner again.”
It was not a question. Eleanor towered over Madeline, six feet of worried mother staring down at her with palpable disappointment. Her handsome face was composed in the light of the oil lamps that the servants had yet to extinguish, but her eyes contained a swirling mixture of emotions in their amber depths.
Madeline was disoriented by the sudden mental shift. She knew this conversation was inevitable, but she had not expected it this night while she was contemplating bloodshed and lifelong dreams almost within reach. “I have.”
“Why?”
She considered the events of the past few days. There was much that had happened, but Eleanor did not need all the gruesome details. Her mother wished to know what her plans were.
“Simon … is free from his obligations.”
“Henri says he is a suspect in a murder?”
“Simon is not capable of unwarranted violence.”
Eleanor stared down at her, bemused as she folded her arms. Madeline’s stomach tightened as she awaited her response until her mother finally sighed. “No. He is not.”
Relief surged through her in a wave. Her mother’s opinion was important to Madeline. They had worked together at the manufactory since her youth, with Mama apprenticing her in varying facets of their stone empire with patience and detail. There were few people on this earth who Madeline respected more than the exceptional woman who forged her way in the world of business with daring and confidence.
Eleanor had developed artificial stone that held up to the elements, developed a client list that included the King himself. Uncle Reginald had opened doors for Eleanor as a young widow, but her mother had done the work to bring her kingdom into fruition. A vote of confidence from her was priceless.
“Simon is no longer tied down by his duty to the Blackwood title. When this accusation is settled, he will court me.”
Her mother dropped her gaze to the rug beneath their feet as if lost in thought. “I hope he sees it through to the end. He has cost you much time.”
Madeline was no longer the girl who had let her beau go in her youth, helpless as he slipped away due to his perceived culpability in Nicholas’s injuries. Since that time, she had taken her place in the Bigsbys’ business, negotiated orders and payments with their clients. Managed men. She knew what she wanted. Life was not going to rip her hopes and dreams away a second time.
Madeline drew herself up to her full height, still several inches shorter than her intimidating mother, but she had found her fire and she was confident in what she wanted.
“I learned my lesson. I will not make the same mistakes again. This time,Iwill be the one who sees it through to the end.”
