by Jane Charles
“Everton is dead?” Matthew Trent questioned.
“Yes,” Millicent sighed. “Stabbed last night. I am really surprised none of you knew about it. The servants were talking about nothing else when they returned from the market.
“Wasn’t Dalton killed just a few nights ago?” Matthew Trent asked, looking at Jordan.
He nodded.
“It is a shame that two such fine young gentlemen are gone,” Millicent said, plucking at the glove on her hand. A slow smile formed and she looked back up at Jordan. “But you are safe and that is really all that matters.”
“Yes, it is.” Audrey placed an arm around Jordan’s waist. The familiarity would scandalize the ton but she needed to make Millicent understand. “As he is to be my husband I plan on him living a very long and happy life.”
Millicent’s eyes hardened and the smile froze on her lips. The look sent a chill down Audrey’s spine. Jordan must have noticed too because his hand tightened at her waist as if to protect her. “I will let you live with your delusions for a bit, Audrey. But he will tire of you soon and return to me.”
“Audrey isn’t the one who is deluded,” Jordan bit out. “I never went to the house party and I was never in your room.” His eyes bore into hers. “I never wanted you, nor do I now. Please cease interfering in my life and return to your husband.
Audrey glanced at Jordan. She had never seen him so firm and angry, yet controlled. Pain flashed in Millicent’s eyes for a moment only to be replaced with cold determination. Hopefully Jordan’s words would sink in and she would now leave them alone and fixate on someone else.
“Excuse me,” Grace’s butler stepped into the room. “Bow Street is here to speak with Mr. Trent.”
Everyone looked to Matthew Trent.
“Send them in,” Matthew Trent answered.
Two gentlemen, rather burly stepped into the parlor. One approached Matthew Trent. “We need to know the whereabouts of your brother.”
“He is right there.” The other one said, pointing to Jordan. “You need to come with us.”
Jordan pulled away from Audrey. “Why?”
Two soldiers entered the room behind the Runners. Audrey glanced back at Jordan. What was happening?
“For the murders of Mr. Dalton and Mr. Everton.”
Audrey watched in horror as Jordan was lead from the room. This was a terrible mistake. Jordan would not murder anyone. How could anyone possibly think he would murder Dalton and Everton?
“Matthew?” Grace questioned her husband as if he had the answers.
Matthew Trent stared at the doorway, worry etched on his brow and his eyes were stark with fear. He blinked, shook his head and pulled Grace into an embrace.
Grace looked up at her husband. “I don’t understand.”
“Neither do I.” He kissed her forehead and pulled away. “I need to tell Clayton and John and find out what is going on and fix this.”
“This is horrible,” Millicent cried. It was the first thing the woman had said that Audrey agreed with.
“It is all my fault.” Millicent sank down into a chair.
Matthew Trent took a step forward and towered over the woman? “Your fault? Explain!”
She sniffed and looked up. “Don’t you see? If I hadn’t used Dalton and Everton to make Jordan jealous he would have never killed them.”
Trent stiffened. “My brother did not murder anyone.”
Millicent blinked up at him and sniffed. “Yes, yes, of course. I shouldn’t say such things.”
“No, you shouldn’t,” Grace agreed.
“I think you should leave, Lady Lydell. This is a family matter.”
Millicent glanced around the room, a look of confusion on her face. Perhaps the shock of the situation was setting in. She focused on Audrey. “Yes, Audrey, we should go.”
Audrey didn’t want to leave. She couldn’t return home only to worry about what was happening to Jordan. Would they think to send word to her?
“I would like Audrey to stay with me,” Grace insisted. “She is my dearest friend.”
Millicent turned. “I am also your friend.”
“No Millicent.” Pain slashed across Grace’s face. “Not any longer.”
The woman stiffened as if insulted.
“Besides,” Matthew Trent began. “Audrey is family as she is to be my sister-in-law, as soon as we can get Jordan back home.”
Relief shot through Audrey that she would be allowed to stay.
“I’ll have Wallace escort you out.” The butler appeared and waited for Millicent. She glanced around, befuddlement in her features before she allowed Wallace to lead her from the room, closing the door behind him.
“Thank you,” Audrey muttered.
Matthew Trent smiled gently at her. “Jordan told my brothers and I of his plans to marry a short while ago and is, was going to call on your uncle today.”
She needed to send word to her uncle, but what did one say. Mr. Trent has been detained due to his arrest for murdering two gentlemen. I am sure you won’t hold this against him when he does come to call to ask for my hand.
Audrey shook the thought away. Was she slipping into madness like Millicent? “I just hope he doesn’t reject Jordan’s request.”
“He won’t.”
How could he be so certain? She had concerns before for much milder reasons compared to charges against him for murder.
“After I tell my brothers what happened, I will call on your uncle and explain.”
“Thank you.” Mr. Trent was a former vicar so perhaps her uncle would be more understanding.
“I’ll also ask that you remain here, with us. I don’t wish Grace to be alone.”
“Yes,” Grace agreed.
Audrey didn’t want to be anywhere else at the moment. Not until they received word of what was happening or until Jordan returned.
“I’ll ask that your things be sent over.”
“Thank you.” Audrey was more grateful than she could ever express.
“I’ll return when I have news.”
After he left the ladies crossed the room and embraced. “I am so afraid.” Audrey confessed.
“As am I.”
Within the hour Lady Bentley, Mrs. Trent and Lady Brachton arrived. The ladies were to remain together and keep each other company. Their husbands feared they would worry themselves ill without the company.
“Please, call me Eleanor,” Lady Bentley insisted.
“I’m Madeline,” Jordan’s younger sister grinned.
“And I am Elizabeth,” Mrs. John Trent said once they were seated and the tea service placed on the table before them. “I understand you are to be family.”
Audrey was grateful for the welcome into their fold. She didn’t know what she would have done had they asked her to leave because she wasn’t part of the family yet.
They fell into silence, sipping tea, each afraid to say anything or voice their own fears. Surely they didn’t think Jordan had committed those acts. “What do you think is happening?” she finally asked.
“They are probably simply questioning him and will soon let him come home,” Elizabeth insisted.
“I am sure you are correct,” Eleanor agreed.
“Do you deny murdering Mr. Everton and Mr. Dalton?” a man, who had identified himself as Mr. Wesby, asked Jordan again.
Jordan had been taken to Newgate directly from Matthews’s house. He hadn’t been locked up yet, but was seated in a small room with an investigator with Bow Street.
“I swear, I had nothing to do with either of their deaths.”
“You were seen fighting with both of them. Each time was on the eve of their death.”
Being punched by Dalton in the gaming hell as well as striking Everton after he had attempted to rape Audrey flashed through his mind. “That does not mean I killed them.”
“What did the fights involve?”
The mention of ladies may damn him further, but he had to clear this matter up. “Dalton w
as angry because a certain lady preferred me to him.”
“The lady’s name?”
“Lady Lydell.”
Mr. Wesby scratched out the name with a pencil onto the parchment before him.
“And he attacked me. I did nothing to provoke him.”
“Except perhaps seduce the lady he wished for himself.”
“I did not seduce Lady Lydell, ever,” Jordan shouted. That woman was causing him more grief than anyone in his life before. He wished he had never seen her or asked her to dance.
“Mind your anger, Mr. Trent.”
Jordan took a deep steadying breath. Yelling and fighting would not help prove his innocence.
“Why did you fight with Everton?”
Jordan clenched his jaw before answering. If he told, Audrey could be ruined. He couldn’t do that to her. It didn’t matter that they were to be married. “He was attempting to take liberties with a young lady who was trying to get away from him.”
Mr. Wesby studied Jordan. “Are you suggesting he was going to rape her?”
“Yes.”
“Perhaps you misunderstood what you were seeing and the lady was willing.”
“No,” Jordan shouted.
“I can see you have a tempter, Mr. Trent.”
Jordan closed his eyes and took another deep breath. He needed to maintain control of his emotions or he would be hanged in the end.
“Everton was not accepting her rejection and I thought to intercede but she handled the situation before I could reach them.”
“How so?” Wesby asked with interest.
“What any young lady should do when in a similar situation and practically dropped Everton to his knees.”
A small smile started on Wesby’s lips but he straightened and looked down at his notes before glancing back up. “If she dealt the blow, why did you feel the need to fight the man?”
“Because he was about to hit the young lady.”
Wesby nodded. “And what is this young lady’s name?”
Jordan bit his lip. He could not bring Audrey into this.
“Are you willing to hang from the gallows simply to protect her reputation?”
Jordan wanted to answer yes but he was too selfish. If he died, he wouldn’t have the life he hoped with Audrey. There wouldn’t be children or the stables he wished to give her. “Miss Audrey Montgomery.”
Wesby nodded and wrote down her name.
“Where did you go after Dalton struck you?”
Jordan thought back over the night. He had visited the gaming hell to speak with Stanwick. As he was leaving was when Dalton had struck him. Where had he gone next? “I was summoned to Lady Rothsbury’s. The message was given to me by my footman as I was leaving Dagger’s Haven.”
“Interesting.”
Jordan wasn’t sure what the man found so interesting but hopefully it was enough to clear him of the murder.
“Where were you when Everton was murdered?”
“I don’t know when he was killed. I had just learned of his death when you arrived.”
“Late last night or early this morning.”
“I was at home.”
He quirked a brow. “Alone?”
“Yes, except for my servants.”
“Can they attest for your presence all night long?”
After Audrey had dropped him on his doorstep, Jordan had gone to his room, soaked in hot water, had supper, drank two glasses of brandy. He had been asleep by ten. “I retired early and didn’t leave my home until this morning.”
“Where did you go?”
Jordan wasn’t sure what that question had to do with anything but he answered anyway. “To Madame Devine’s.”
Once again Wesby wrote notes.
“What is your connection to Devine’s?”
Surely the man knew it was a brothel. A fairly popular one at that. “The same connection as any other gentleman who visits.”
Wesby picked up the papers before him and shuffled through, reading his notes. He seemed to take particular interest in something written toward the bottom of the third page. He set it down and placed the other documents on top of it before Jordan could read what it said.
“I understand you share a special closeness with a certain employee by the name of Angelique.”
“Who told you of my personal life?” Jordan demanded.
“It does not matter, Mr. Trent. Tell me of your relationship to this Angelique.”
“I’ve known the young woman since my father introduced her to me when I was sixteen.”
“How old are you?” Wesby questioned.
“One and Thirty.”
“That is a very long time,” Wesby mussed and studied Jordan. “Did you spend time with the other employees or only Angelique?”
“Only Angelique.”
The man nodded. What did this have to do with anything?
“It is rumored that you are in love with her.”
“Where are you getting your information? From society gossips?”
“You are rather defensive on the subject, Mr. Trent.”
Jordan bit back his anger. He needed to remain calm. “I am not in love with her any longer.”
“I understand you were there a few days ago. Perhaps she spurned your advances.”
“She did not.” Besides, he hadn’t made any advances and it was Angelique who invited him to her room.
“Where were you yesterday?”
What did yesterday matter? Then it dawned on Jordan. “Certainly you don’t think I had anything to do with the attack on Angelique?”
Wesby raised his grey, bushy eyebrows. “So, you know about the attack.”
“I was told this morning when I was there.”
Wesby frowned. “Why would you visit in the morning?” It was a normal question since Madam Devine did not open her doors until seven in the evening.
“I am a solicitor and had documents to deliver to Madame.”
“You were not there yesterday?”
“No,” Jordan insisted.
“Where were you?”
“I visited the stables owned by Mr. Slaine?”
“Were you there to purchase a horse?”
Jordan could not tell him the truth. “I went to ride.”
“When was that?”
“Two. I didn’t return until around seven that evening.”
Wesby rubbed his chin and frowned. “You would have needed to leave London at around one, correct?”
“Yes.”
“Where were you earlier?”
“I hadn’t left my home. I was working in the library until it was time to leave for my appointment?”
“Who can verify that you were there the entire time?”
“I did not harm Angelique,” Jordan bit out.
Wesby raised a censured eyebrow.
“I am sure my footman and valet can account for my presence.”
The Runner nodded and made a few more notes before picking up the pieces of parchment, reading each one, slowly and carefully. Jordan resisted the urge to squirm in his seat or get up and pace.
“What were you doing before you had your encounter with Dalton at the gaming hell?”
“I attended the Welburn ball. I was there late. Dozens of people can account for my presence.”
“Did you go home?”
“I did for a short while but Mr. Stanwick had sent a message that he needed to see me.”
“Did you go immediately?”
“Yes?”
“Why did he wish to see you?”
“It was of a business nature.”
“I understand you were in the gardens with Lady Rothsbury that evening and that when you returned inside, she was upset.”
“That is because her brother-in-law made threats.”
Wesby frowned and shuffled through his papers. “I thought you had made threats against Creighton.”
“The man is gambling away his nephew’s estate, the very young and current Lord Rothsbur
y.”
“Shouldn’t these matters be left to family to handle?”
“Lady Rothsbury asked for my assistance.”
“The two of you were lovers once, were you not?”
“What does that have to do with the murders?” His frustration at the situation was mounting and Jordan feared he would plant the man a facer if he didn’t conclude this business soon. Such an action would only make him look guilty of the crimes he was being accused of.
“Answer the question.”
“Yes, over a year ago.”
“Did she reject you the night she was attacked?”
“Of course not!”
“So you are current lovers now?”
“No.”
“Yet she didn’t reject you,” Wesby questioned again.
“Because I didn’t try to seduce her.”
Wesby pulled paper from the bottom of his stack. “We received a letter this morning that was of great interest. Based on the contents it led us to believe that you might be involved in the murders of Dalton and Everton.” He slid the letter over to Jordan. “As well as the attacks on Lady Rothsbury and Angelique.”
“What?” Jordan yelled. “I would never hurt either woman and I certainly did not kill anyone.”
“Read the letter, Mr. Trent,” Wesby insisted calmly.
Jordan picked up the parchment. It was written in a hand he did not recognize, but detailed his life at both Madam Devine’s and his affair with Lady Rothsbury, his deception at hiding his profession from his family, the detailed fights with Dalton and Everton, the belief by Lady Lydell that Jordan seduced and abandoned her, but had gotten her with child, and his courtship of Miss Montgomery and jealousy at the attention she was giving Everton, as well as the jealousy he showed when he came upon Lady Lydell with Dalton. Was there someone hiding and watching everything he did?
While there were many accuracies in the letter, they were also inflated and couched in terms that could be misconstrued. This letter was very damning and if he found out who wrote it he would kill the bastard.
The thought brought him up short. It was a phrase, simply a phrase because Jordan would never take another life. But thank goodness he hadn’t uttered his thoughts out loud.
Wesby stood. “You are to be held in Newgate until trial.”
Jordan came to his feet. “I did not do these things.”
“Then you should prepare your defense.” Wesby rapped on the door and two guards entered, each taking one of Jordan’s arms. He struggled but they had vise grip holds on him.
