Roderick’s face was grim. “In a way. As I said, I received this missive yesterday from the general. However, a few days ago, I had some business with the Home Office. It was there where I was informed of the circumstance regarding Shelby. This only confirms my suspicions.”
Stephen sat on the corner of Roderick’s desk. “I can’t fathom anything more than a problem with the will. Unless someone is coming forward saying Shelby owed them money.”
Roderick kept tapping the paper against his palm, annoyance written across his face.
Marcus watched the interplay between the youngest and oldest Clearbrook males. It would have been fascinating to let it go on. Stephen was acting quite the know-it-all, while Roderick was quickly losing his patience. It was hard enough for the duke today, he didn’t need to add to his troubles.
Marcus stretched out his feet and glared at Stephen. “Shut up. Let Roderick have his say.”
Clayton had the audacity to chuckle.
Marcus shot him a cold look, and the man’s grin only increased.
“I am only agreeing with you,” Clayton replied, his eyes smiling.
Stephen stiffened. “I am only giving everyone the lay of the land. William Shelby was family. His death two years ago was quite a shock. But dying in his sleep was not a bad way to go. At least my wife didn’t have to see him suffer a lingering death.”
Roderick shot from his chair, shoving the note toward Stephen. “Did it ever occur to you that perhaps Shelby did not die in his sleep?”
Stephen jerked. “The devil, you say!”
Marcus rose slowly from his seat, realizing the implications of Roderick’s words. He suddenly recalled the general’s words last night. Murder, Marcus. Cold blooded murder. “Thunderation. Are you saying Shelby was murdered?”
Roderick’s lips became a firm line of disgust. “That’s exactly what I’m saying.”
Stephen let loose with a string of curses. “Why? His daughters received the money. There was no one else who received anything.”
The duke raised a brow. “I hate to say it, but some may think you were the culprit.”
Stephen paled. “I hope that is not why the Home Office informed you instead of me.”
“No. I was informed, because I had my suspicions. But have no worries, you Stephen, are not on the list of suspects.”
Marcus’s eyes glittered with rage as he stared at the note on the desk. “Shelby was one of the richest men in England. There has to be a motive.”
Stephen combed a frustrated hand through his brown hair. He glanced at the duke. “Two years have passed? Why did this come to their attention now?”
Roderick shrugged. “At the time of death, the doctor sent me his suspicions when he saw the body. He suspected possible poisoning, but he could not be sure. No other allegations were made. The magistrate stated death by natural causes.”
Stephen slammed a hand against the duke’s desk. “This is two years too late! We cannot search the premises or people to look for poison now. That thought is ludicrous.”
Roderick sat back in his chair and let out a tired breath. “Ludicrous, but true.”
Marcus snatched the letter off the desk. “It seems Shelby seemed to have had an inkling someone might kill him.” He looked up, frowning. “Shelby’s original letter with that information is at the Home Office. A maid found it while she was sorting out Shelby’s clothes.”
“What?” Stephen asked, his voice suspicious. “Why didn’t she give me the letter? I am her employer.”
Roderick snorted. “I believe she thought you might be involved.”
Stephen swore.
Marcus shook the paper. “Says right here, she discovered the letter last week. The Home Office compared Shelby’s signature to other papers. The letter was dated the day before Shelby died, but never sent.”
Stephen growled. “Confound it. I was finally having the maid clean everything out, so Elizabeth wouldn’t have to go through it. I never imagined . . .”
Clayton joined his brothers at the desk, taking a look at the letter. “Hell’s bells, a murderer in our midst.”
Roderick crossed his arms over his chest, his frosty expression mimicking the rest of the gentlemen. “The point is, why did he do it? And who is he?”
Stephen let out a low rumble of frustration. “I wanted to box Shelby’s ears a few times, especially before I married Elizabeth. You do remember the wager I lost, and his edict that I marry his unseen daughter? I lost that wager, but won the prize. I admit, I hated the man at first. And I never got over how he had used Elizabeth. Yet there was a genuine warmth about the man once you got to know him.”
Clayton frowned. “Warmth is debatable. But as to the wager, we remember all too well. Shelby was an excellent card player, even won money from Prinny. Good sums in fact. Now that Prinny’s the king, I don’t know if anyone is allowed to win that much from the Crown.”
Stephen clenched his hands on the edges of the desk. “It hurts me to say this, but what if England wanted him dead. Our dear king may have ordered it. Heard he was not too fond of Shelby for a few months. They, of course, got a long quite well later, but I hesitate to take that piece of information out of the equation.”
Marcus’s lips thinned. He hadn’t been too fond of William Shelby either, but Milli had missed her father and had cried for two months straight. Elizabeth had suffered just as much. Not liking a man was not a reason to kill him, even for the king. But then again, he thought about Napoleon and the French revolution. Who knew what went on behind closed doors.
Clayton’s gaze glittered with contempt. “If that is our motive, I hazard to think whom we shall call out first, our very own king?”
Roderick shook his head. “No, I don’t believe England wanted Shelby dead. But it seems the Home Office has two thoughts on this.”
Marcus walked toward the window. He thought about Milli and how she would take the information. No doubt, the female would try finding the murderer herself. The very notion sent his pulse racing.
“Let me guess,” Marcus said. “The first thought is that someone wanted revenge. That is the biggest motive in murder, is it not?”
“Go on.” Roderick poured himself a glass of wine from the rosewood sideboard across the room. “It may be early in the morning, but confound it, I need a drink.”
The others moved to join him.
Marcus picked up a glass, raising the red liquid to his lips. He halted, looking over the rim of the crystal. “Are we certain this is not poisoned?”
Roderick let out a sad laugh. “Devil take it. Two years have passed. If the culprit wanted to poison the lot of us, I suppose he could have done it a while ago.”
“To Shelby,” Stephen said, lifting his glass.
“To Shelby,” the brothers said in unison and downed a good swallow.
Marcus stared at the half empty glass and frowned. “Of course, there is the another motive.” He paused and looked at the men. “Greed.”
Stephen’s expression turned hard. “If you are suggesting I killed the man for his money—”
“The devil! Not you! Someone else.”
Clayton rested his glass on the mantel. “Why not? Money seems the obvious motive. Someone could have killed Shelby to steal from him.”
“But the money is gone,” Stephen said. “His daughters have it now.”
Marcus finished off his wine, his mind churning with thoughts of someone murdering Milli’s father in cold blood. Why kill the man?
His hand jerked. Because they needed to acquire the money through the daughters!
“And that is our answer, gentlemen,” Marcus said with steel in his voice. “The daughters.”
A brittle silence fell over the room.
Stephen’s eyes glazed over with rage. “Confound it! Are you suggesting Milli?”
Clayton folded his body onto the sofa. “What devil would kill a man, then go after the daughter who inherits his money? It’s heartless.”
Roderick pour
ed another glass of wine. “Heartless? Look at the English throne. Queens were killed. Wives were beheaded. And it was all done by ones who were supposed to love them. Even princes disappeared when they were only children. Humans are very capable of doing the worst.”
Stephen glared at the men. “Elizabeth can’t ever know.”
Marcus nodded. “Neither should Milli. Heaven help us if she discovers someone killed her father. I hesitate to think that she may go after the man with a butter knife.”
Roderick’s lips curled into a wry smirk. “Devil take it. The murderer will be running from the house.”
Marcus took his seat and frowned. “If our theory is true, then some man is out there waiting to marry Milli.”
The duke nodded. “That’s the only way he can acquire the funds.”
Stephen curled his hand into a fist. “As her guardian, I can make certain the money stays in her name!”
Clayton jerked his head Stephen’s way. “Hell’s bells! You believe that will work against a murderer? After they are married, he could do anything to that girl. Have you forgotten what happened to Briana’s sister? Or for that matter, what happened to Briana. The man who stalked her was mad. Mad enough to try to kill her and himself! He killed her sister. That was too close for me. The murderer might be planning to ruin Milli, and then where would she be? She would have to marry.”
Marcus grimaced. Clayton had almost lost his wife to a madman. That wasn’t going to happen to Milli. “Well, what the blue blazes are we going to do about this? We can’t let Milli marry some fortune hunter who murdered her father! And I am thinking that is the man’s plan.”
Roderick palmed his hand in the air. “We do not have proof that the murderer wants to marry Milli. We don’t even know if it’s a man. It’s only a theory.”
“But a deuced good theory, if you ask me,” Marcus replied, his anger mounting. “A man could break every bone in her body without even thinking twice.”
Roderick stuffed the note into his desk, rubbing his temples. “That delicate female is everything kind and gentle. We must guard her with our lives, as we would any of our women. Hopefully, we are wrong, and the culprit murdered Shelby because of a debt he owed the man and nothing more.”
“I don’t think so,” Marcus spat. “My gut tells me he is after Milli.”
Stephen leaned against the ladder near the bookshelves. “I agree with Marcus. My knee-jerk reaction tells me the villain has been lurking in the shadows, waiting for Milli to come of age. She didn’t truly inherit the money until she was eighteen. That was three months ago.”
He pushed off the ladder, sending it colliding against the wall with a bang. “Hell’s teeth, the man will have to go through me to marry her. I am her guardian until she turns twenty-one. And to tell you the truth, until we discover who this man is, I won’t allow her to marry at all!”
Marcus let out a twisted smile. “Good luck with that. At this very moment, the money is at her disposal, even if you have the power to deny her suitor.”
“True. But the majority of her spending is to charities.”
Marcus sighed. “Gentlemen, we are in a devil of a coil.”
”Confound it,” Clayton snapped, glancing at the closed door. “Then, what the hell are we going to do about it t?”
Roderick stood and buttoned his jacket. “Perhaps we could find Milli a suitable husband, just as we did with our sister Emily. Just a thought...”
Marcus frowned. Something protective sprang in his heart. “You have to be jesting? A husband? She’s just out of the schoolroom!”
Though Marcus knew Milli was no longer a child, he didn’t want to think of her married to some man. He didn’t even like the thought of some man kissing Milli. The very idea of her in some other man’s arms—
“But if our theory is correct,” Stephen remarked, interrupting Marcus’s thoughts. “What is there to stop the killer from murdering Milli’s husband? I fail to see the logic in this.”
Clayton nodded, his expression grim. “He’s right. We must find the villain now. Before he does more damage.”
Roderick glared at Clayton. “What is your idea then?”
“We have a party in the country.”
Stephen’s eyes lit up. “Lure the mouse to the cheese, so to speak? Or rat.”
Clayton looked his way. “Yes.”
Roderick paused, glaring out the window. “Heaven help me, if anyone hurts one hair on her head, I’ll pound the man to the ground.”
“I don’t like it,” Marcus snapped.
Roderick pinned him with a daggered gaze. “Why the devil not?”
Marcus glared back at the duke. He was recalling that kiss in the library. The vulnerability in Milli’s face had pierced his heart. He would not let her be a target. Not his little princess, no matter how angry she was toward him now. “Because Milli is too innocent. We cannot subject her to this.”
Roderick’s eyes flashed. “You think we want to do this? Hell and thunderation, we are putting her in danger if we don’t.”
Marcus took a step toward the duke. “I said, I don’t like it.”
Clayton walked between the two men. “And that is precisely why we will be there. Let’s think about this plan of ours over the next few days and reconvene on the specifics later.”
“Fine.” Marcus took a deep breath, realizing Roderick was trying his best. The man had been through hell the last twenty-four hours, and he was trying to help Milli, not hurt her.
Marcus sliced his hand through the air. “But this goes no further than this room.”
Stephen lifted his head. “Stonebridge will have to be informed.”
”Of course.” Marcus knew Emily’s husband would be another ally in their search for the murderer.
But he didn’t like to think of Milli in the middle of this. Hell’s bells, he would be attached to her like a flea on a dog the next few months, whether the female liked it or not.
And finding a husband for Milli? Marcus was hoping they would find the culprit before it would come to that!
“And I specifically do not want Emily informed about any of this,” Roderick commanded. “None of the women must know a thing.”
They all agreed.
With a somber expression, Marcus started for the door and glanced over his shoulder at the duke. Recalling his shopping excursion, an amusing glint danced in his eyes as he spoke. “Ah, sir Dukie, we will be leaving in fifteen minutes for our little expedition. From experience, I suggest you have your valet set out a good pair of walking boots. It’s going to be a long and tedious outing.”
Clayton laughed, lightening the mood. “Oh, yes, sir Dukie, bring your pocketbook. And if Gabby is anything like our dear Emily, you will need to draw from the bank!”
Chapter Eight
Milli glanced at her sister as she walked into Jane’s bedchamber where the duchess was fast asleep. Lizzie had taken a seat beside the bed. The curtains were closed and the faint scent of roses filled the air. Milli smiled at the huge pink flower arrangement that was, no doubt, sent by the duke and brought up from the Elbourne conservatory.
“How does she fare?” Milli said in a low voice, walking toward the end of the four poster bed.
Her sister frowned, putting a hand to Jane’s forehead. “She’s tired. Worn out, in more ways than one.”
Milli’s heart turned. “When is the doctor coming back?”
“Later today.”
“I can hear you two, so don’t say anything I wouldn’t.”
Milli felt a smile work its way to her lips as Jane opened her eyes. “How are you feeling?”
Tears leaked from Jane’s eyes. “Sad, mad, angry. It’s hard going through this . . . again. ”
Milli swallowed past the lump in her throat. “You are strong. You will get through this.”
Jane nodded, her bottom lip trembling. A hush hovered over the room. After a minute, Lizzie turned to Milli. “Do you mind staying here for a few minutes? I have something I need to d
o, and I don’t want Jane to be alone.”
Jane frowned. “I can be by myself. I am not an invalid.”
Milli saw the paleness of the duchess’s cheeks. The lady was still very ill. “I will stay with you Jane and that’s that.”
A sad chuckle escaped from the duchess’s lips. “I hear and obey, Master.”
Milli laughed. “Go on, Lizzie. I have everything under control.”
Milli watched her sister leave, then took the chair beside Jane. Her friend looked small and helpless in the huge bed.
Milli squeezed Jane’s hand and noticed it was warm. Hiding her frown, she let out a wry chuckle. “Did I tell you the duke is to go shopping with Gabby and Marcus? I daresay, all of London will be talking about it. Imagine, the overbearing duke on a shopping expedition with a six-year-old girl leading him around by his finger.”
Jane slipped her hand from Milli’s and turned her head to her side. All at once, she let out a painful sob and cradled her face in her hands. “Oh, Milli . . .”
Grief cut through Milli’s heart like a knife. “Don’t cry, dearest. I will help you get through this. Everyone will. You’ll be better soon, and then we shall go shopping. Perhaps we can take you to Bath for the waters.”
Jane blinked back her tears. “Oh, Milli, do you ever feel sad? You are always so full of energy and joy.”
Milli tried not to frown as she thought about last night when Marcus had wounded her with his words. She still felt the ache in her chest.
She squeezed Jane’s hand again. “I do have times when I am sad, but then, I think of all the good things in my life. But I vow, you will be better soon. Don’t give up so easily, especially when you are feeling ill. Roderick loves you so much. I daresay you are the luckiest woman in the world to have so much love from one man.”
Jane closed her eyes, letting the tears leak past her lids. “D-do . . . do you think he still loves me?”
Milli sat up. “Why ever not?”
Jane gazed at her with sad eyes. “You know why? I cannot give him an heir. He is the duke. He must have an heir.”
The Mischievous Bride (The Clearbrooks) Page 8
