A Scandalous Request

by Micki Miller

  “I know, sweet. Did you see who it was?”

  He believed her. Only now could she admit to herself her concern, that he might suspect this to be some sort of ploy in order to retain his sympathy.

  “No,” she said. “Whoever it was crept up on me from behind. Did you see anyone outside?”

  “No. But I have my suspicions as to who might have done this.”

  “Who?” As the question passed her lips, Cora entered the room.

  “Oh, milady, you’re awake. Thank goodness. I’ve been so worried. How are you feeling?”

  “I just have a bit of a headache. I’m going to be fine.”

  “Of course you are,” Cora said. To Burke, the maid said, “Timmons asked me to tell you the constable is here, milord. He’s waiting in your study.”

  “Thank you,” Burke said. He gave Rose’s hand another squeeze before rising. To Cora he said, “Stay with her.”

  Cora nodded, already taking the chair beside the bed.

  “Burke?” Rose said. She had questions. She wanted to know who he suspected, and why. Please don’t be Eddy.

  “You rest, Rose,” was the only answer he gave. “I’m going to speak with the constable, and then I’ll be back to talk to you, if you’re feeling up to it.”

  He was gone before she could protest.

  Chapter 18

  The constable, Thomas Arness, scratched the yellow hairs of his short-trimmed beard as Burke paced the parquet floor of his drawing room. Light flickered across the heavy flocked wallpaper of rich greens. A fire burning in the hearth and several branches of candles lit the room, as dawn was still a couple of hours away.

  “Her sister, you say?” Arness shifted in his chair, leaning his elbow on the embroidered cloth-covered arm.

  “It makes perfect sense,” Burke answered, stopping before the constable to make his point. “She’s always been jealous of Rose. Her feelings are obvious every time Edwina Rutherford speaks to or about Rose. Lord Sennett was quite disgusted with Edwina’s behavior, told me so himself. The woman is miserable in her own life and sees her sister as the one granted all the world’s privileges. Edwina also drinks to excess, making her perspective even more deluded.”

  “And,” Arness said. “It would explain why that blow she took from the shovel didn’t do more damage. Had the assailant been even an average sized man…”

  “Rose might well be dead.”

  Burke paused to grip the black marble mantel while a tempest rage toyed with his balance. At the very moment he was enthralled with her angelic form in his garden, someone was slinking up on her, about to strike her with a shovel. What if he’d not frightened the culprit away when he’d called out? Instead of dropping the shovel and running, would the villain have been satisfied with doing injury, or would they have stayed to finish the job?

  The constable leaned forward in his chair. “Did Edwina Rutherford have access to Rose’s pistol?”

  “At the theatre, Rose hugged her sister. I remember Lord Sennett mentioning it to me later. It stuck in my mind because he said Edwina did not return her sister’s affection. I thought it rather cold.” Burke resumed his pacing. “It would have been nothing for Edwina to slip her hand into Rose’s reticule.”

  Arness sat back and clasped his hands over his lean belly, fingers tapping a slow rhythm against the backs of his hands.

  “For that matter, Edwina’s husband Piers may be our culprit,” Arness said. “He certainly had motive, after she’d done him injury. If he discovered his wife had stolen Lady Sennett’s pistol, he may have decided to take his revenge for the bashing his sister-in-law had given him. Perhaps he stumbled when swinging the shovel and lost his balance. Or, became distracted when he heard your voice, or your footfalls, causing his power to falter. I’ll go over to the Rutherford residence first thing in the morning.”

  Pivoting at the end of the room, Burke said, “I told Rose I would speak with her sister and brother-in-law myself.”

  “The lady’s safety would be better served were you to remain here with her.”

  After only a brief pause, Burke nodded. The constable was right. There had been attacks on three people residing in the Sennett house, one of them killed. And Rose had suffered time in Newgate. Burke’s insides contracted at the memory of her in that hellish pit, at the vicious words he spat at her. Then he’d brought her here to his home, where she’d been attacked on his own damned property, almost in front of his very eyes. He not only owed her justice, but his utmost protection.

  “You’re right,” Burke said. “I’ll remain here and see to her protection. I gave Lady Sennett my word I would be kind when speaking with her sister.”

  “I’ll see to it your word is kept.”

  Burke nodded his appreciation. Seconds later, angle, opportunity, and motivation revolved about his mind.

  “In the meantime,” Arness said. “Lady Sennett should remain indoors.”

  “Of course. I’ll make sure of it.”

  Arness glanced at the Ormolu-mounted, marble clock perched in the center of the mantel. “Fine, well, I’ll be off then.”

  As the constable stood to leave, Timmons showed Drew into the drawing room.”

  “How is she?” Drew asked before both his feet had even crossed the threshold. Though he appeared quite awake, his clothing was slightly rumpled and he’d missed one button on his waistcoat. His light brown hair was pushed back from his face in a haphazard manner. A fat lock bulged behind his left ear.

  “New travels fast,” Burke said, close to a smile at his friend’s appearance, certain he knew just how Drew had come to such a state.

  “Especially anything attached to the murder of Lord Sennett. Even in the wee hours, the town salivates for fresh gossip. It flows first to those of us forsaking sleep for our pleasures.” Drew scowled before adding, “Even if it means interrupting others in the very midst of their enjoyments.”

  Burke did grin then at his rakehell friend, and the poorly timed interruption. Drew was a good man, but his exploits were many and far from discreet. If he were not careful, one day they would come around to bite him.

  The flash of humor, however, did not last more than a few beats of his heart. Rose could have died this night. And whoever had attacked her was still out there, maybe already preparing to try again.

  “Rose is going to be all right,” Burke said. “She’ll be better when her assailant is locked away.”

  “Have you any idea who committed this offense?”

  “I believe it was Rose’s sister,” Burke said. “She had reason, at least in her mind she did. And, it makes sense because the injury would have been much worse had the shovel been wielded with the strength of a man.”

  Drew shook his head. “A shovel? Damn, and her own flesh and blood. My little sister, Olivia, is a hellion, but even at her worst she’s done naught but throw a rag doll at my back.”

  “If I remember right,” Burke said. “You deserved it.” A slight smile tugged at Burke’s lips. Olivia was a feisty little thing. Someday, she’d give a man a good run for his money.

  Drew chuckled. “I’m quite sure I did.” He then noticed the constable.

  After a quick introduction, Arness said, “Yes, it appears Edwina Rutherford is the most likely culprit.”

  Drew nodded before saying, “What about Da Ville?”

  “Lord Da Ville?” the constable said, surprise raising his expression.

  Burke furrowed his brow. “You think Lewis may have had something to do with this?”

  “It churned about my mind on my way over,” Drew said. “Your logic of strength, or rather, lack of, suits my theory as well. He is not a large man. And what might he does possess is at present hindered. His intention may have been to kill her, but with his injured arm, he lacked the power to swing the shovel hard enough.”

  “Yes, but Lord Da Ville suffered a pistol shot, too,” Burke said. “Rose was standing right beside him at the time.”

  Arness said, “His injury was n
ot serious. It would be easy enough to pay someone to wing him. We were under the assumption Rose had hired a gunman who missed his mark. Perhaps Da Ville wanted to make it look as if Rose was trying to kill both men, adding to her damnation.”

  Burke shook his head. “It makes no sense. Before the murder, he and Rose got along just fine. They all three did. Da Ville had no motive for killing Lord Sennett, nothing to gain.”

  “Possibly,” Drew said, rubbing his chin. “Until Lord Sennett took Rose to wife, he and Lord da Ville were always touring about together. Perhaps he saw Rose as an interloper, taking Sennett away from the free and single life. The two men could have had arguments Rose knew nothing about. In his anger, Da Ville might have decided to rid himself of both of them with one shot. Also, Lord Da Ville is the only witness other than Rose. If she’s telling the truth-.”

  “She’s telling the truth,” Burke shot back.

  Drew replied with a conceding nod. “We’re going on Da Ville’s word he saw no other at the scene. For all we know, he could have helped a paid assassin escape.”

  “And,” Burke added, pieces coming together and fitting well. “Having been grazed in a shooting himself, Da Ville would be distanced from suspicion. Also, Lord Da Ville could have taken the pistol from Rose’s reticule on any number of occasions.”

  “Good points all,” the constable said. “I’ll speak with Lord Da Ville, too.”

  “I’m taking Rose to my country estate,” Burke said before calling for Timmons. “She’ll be safer there. I’ll hire plenty of guards to patrol the grounds. It will be easier to keep watch there as no one should be about the expanse of property but us.”

  “Splendid idea,” the constable said.

  The butler delivered their coats to the two men and they all left the drawing room. Burke dismissed Timmons. Drew, Arness, and Burke bid their farewells at the front door. The constable exited the house before he had both arms in his sleeves.

  “You know, Burke,” Drew said, his hands working at a slow pace slipping the buttons of his coat through their holes. Pre-dawn chill crept in through the open door on a faint mist. “There is always the chance one of the women you’ve been involved with became jealous.”

  Burke considered the possibility before rejecting it. “I doubt it’s any of them. I’ve seen disappointment, every so often a flash of temper, but never fury.”

  Pru had been angry.

  Of course, burnt toast made Prudence angry. But an indulgence or two always doused her flaring temper, and she was ever proficient in finding her indulgences. Besides, he’d caught word she was already involved with Lord Stanley. Pru was not one to brood over any man for too long.

  “Sometimes a woman seethes beneath her smiles,” Drew said.

  “I’ll give the possibility further consideration.”

  ****

  “Pack Rose’s things,” Burke said to Cora as he strode into Rose’s chamber.

  The maid, sitting in a chair beside Rose’s bed, swiveled her head toward him. She returned her attention to her mistress for confirmation.

  Rose was sitting up, resting back against fluffed pillows. “Where are we going?” she asked.

  “To my country estate. You’ll be safer away from the city until this matter is concluded. I’ll have a number of guards patrolling the grounds on twenty-four-hour watch.”

  Burke stepped to the foot of her bed. He was relieved to see blood did not seep through the white bandage wrapped around her head. But her color had not fully returned, and he feared he was about to make it worse. For a moment, he considered keeping the truth from her. No. If he was going to establish a trust with her, he needed to tell her everything.

  “Rose, I’m sorry, but we believe it was indeed your sister who murdered Ashton, and who attacked you in the garden.”

  Rose shook her head, but said nothing. He could see the fading denial. She knew Edwina was capable. But it was still a damned hard thing to accept one’s own sister would do such terrible things. He cast an ordering nod to her maid.

  “We’ll leave at first light,” Burke said.

  Cora walked over to the wardrobe and opened the doors.

  “You can pack my things, Cora,” Rose said. “I’ll be leaving, but not with Lord Darington.”

  “Where do you think you’re going?” Burke asked.

  “Home.”

  “Back to the home you shared with Lord Sennett?”

  “Yes. It’s where I should have gone straight away. I shouldn’t be here, feeding the rumor mill.”

  Without taking his eyes from Rose, he said, “Cora, leave us.”

  As soon as the door closed behind her maid, Burke said to Rose, “They all believe my aunt is here. Besides, I don’t give a damn what Society thinks.”

  “You will if my being here begins to affect your business dealings.”

  “My investments have made plenty of men plenty of money. When it comes to filling their coffers, men have no misgivings about setting gossip aside.”

  Her eyes darted to her left and then down at her hands, as if panic swelled swift like a new bruise, and would soon darken beyond concealment. “Maybe it was a footpad who attacked me tonight.”

  “Footpads await pedestrians on dark streets, not in my gardens. Besides, all you were wearing was a night rail and wrapper. Clearly you had nothing to steal.”

  He paused then, observing her with a more scrupulous eye. A shallow crease marred the smooth skin between her brows. She had the sheet bundled at her waist, grasped so tight the skin of her hands all but matched the white of the linen.

  Burke’s attention returned to her face. “It’s something else, isn’t it?”

  Rose nodded, her misery evident upon her pallid face.

  After a moment, Burke said, “You don’t trust me.”

  She lifted her sad eyes to his. “I’m grateful for your help and will always be in your debt, but my feelings for you… are not what they once were.”

  “You must try to see it from my perspective,” Burke said. He couldn’t let her stay in the London, alone and unprotected. Nor could he bear the thought of what his careless words and actions had changed, what he may have forever lost.

  “With the evidence presented, you can hardly blame me for what I believed,” he argued. Desperation intensified his words. She had to go with him. Her very life was in jeopardy.

  And so was his heart.

  “Given what we shared, I certainly can blame you for believing me guilty of such a horrific crime, for coming to the prison for the sole purpose of furthering my despair, for fearing you will turn against me once more should your investigation come to an end with nothing to show for it.”

  “That won’t happen,” he shot back.

  Burke huffed out a breath. Her emotions were heightened, the attack having whittled a spearhead to every spike under which she’d suffered. She needed to be angry at him right now. For one, he deserved it. For another, he was the only one here at present onto whom she could unleash her turmoil and fears.

  “We will discuss all this in the country,” he said.

  “No! Don’t you understand?” Her eyes welled. “I’m so tired of people I should be able to trust turning on me. My sister, Lewis, you.” He winced from the inside out at her lumping him in with the other two. “I won’t have it any more. I won’t!”

  “I apologized, damn it, that’s all I can do!”

  He was losing control here, control of the situation, and control of his emotions. How he wished he could erase the ugly things he’d said to her. He needed her trust to see to her safety. And he needed it for reasons weaved into his very being, into every human being.

  Pure selfishness was playing a part here. Fine. So be it. If he was going to forgo his former life’s plan, he would also have to accept he wanted what it was normal to want. And he wanted Rose. Not for a night. Not for a few. He wanted her in his life, by his side, forever.

  “I accept your apology, Burke, I do,” Rose said. “And I apologize fo
r the accusation. That wasn’t fair. You’ve gone far beyond compensation with everything you’ve done for me since. But I’m not going anywhere with you. I don’t want your sympathy, I don’t want your efforts born of guilt, and I don’t want…”

  Tears ran down her face and dropped onto the linen. It tore him apart. He would go to her, hold her, and make this right. But first, he had to know. Circling to the side of her bed, he took a handkerchief from his pocket and tucked it into her hand.

  “What don’t you want, Rose?” he asked in a gentle voice.

  She wiped the tears from her face before meeting his direct gaze with her own. “I don’t want your touch.”

  She was lying. She had to be. To think otherwise knifed an ache to his chest sharp enough to impale every new emotion she had roused in him. He wanted to argue with her further, quarrel until she believed him. But she wasn’t well, and she wasn’t safe. He would do or say whatever he had to, make whatever solemn promise she required, to see to her protection.

  “I’ll not place as much as a finger on you, if such is your wish. But Rose, you must think with a clear head here. Someone wants to see you dead, or imprisoned. Tonight, this person almost succeeded in assuring your demise. Next time you may not be so fortunate.” At her obstinate expression, he added, “Nor might I.”

  “You?”

  He was sinking low here, but he had no choice. He had to protect her. If it meant taking advantage of her soft heart, then such was the depth to which he must descend.

  “What better way to make you appear the murderess than to kill me, another man with whom you are involved.”

  Rose gaped at him. A moment later, she sunk back into the pillows, as acceptance lay heavy upon her.

  Whether or not a threat to him existed, he could not say. What he did know was Rose would not risk the well-being of another. Of that, he was sure.

  “I can keep us both safe out there.”

  “Then go.”

  “Not without you.”

  Her face expressed naught but misery, and the force of it struck him as the lowest miscreant. But he would not so much as consider any alternatives. She would go with him. He would see to it, no matter what it took.