An Unexpected Title (Suspicious Circumstance Book 1)

by Jackie Williams

  But her head shot up, her face full of indignation.

  “No! Of course not! I liked him well enough and respected his knowledge of horses. I was also willing to help him learn to read and write, but if he ever thought there might be more between us, whatever his own desires, he was sadly mistaken.”

  Ash didn’t know why her answer was so important to him given that he had known her all of twenty minutes, but she spoke without hesitation and the relief made him feel weak. He clearly needed to dig some more.

  “But from your own words of hopes and fears, I take it that your father never mentioned that he had come to see me years ago. When your mother was still alive.” He watched her features carefully.

  Madeleine shook her head. The curls around her face trembled.

  “No, and he had no right to make such an arrangement with you. While I understand that some find such agreements convenient, I am not one who conforms to such contracts. I will not marry without there being affection, even love, on both sides. I am twenty-one in less than a year. Almost on the shelf, but I have never met a man who could put up with my desire to be independent. I believe I would drive a man to despair and had not thought to marry at all.” She lifted her chin in an obvious show of determination.

  Ash picked up his teacup again and took a sip.

  “Hmm, well it is a quandary for us as I have given my word to make my best efforts for you.”

  She blinked at him.

  “You did? But why? You do not know me. I can mean nothing to you. You have no need to do anything. The place is yours already.” She flung out her hand to indicate Claiborne in its entirety. “I confess that I cannot believe you agreed to such an outrageous scheme without having met me once in your life.”

  Ash couldn’t believe it himself, but the miniature of her had made him curious. He nearly laughed again. Curious my arse! he thought privately. Her beauty had almost knocked him sideways. Not that he would admit that to her. Not yet, anyway. She might turn out to be a faithless hussy in disguise, much like his previous fiancée. He needed to find out a lot more about her.

  “I told your father as much myself, but he convinced me that he was only thinking of you. And now that he is gone and we are not wed, I could throw you out in the next five minutes with nothing but the clothes you wear, if I so chose.” He noted the sudden look of fear in her eyes, before the fire came back, burning brightly. Good for her! She wasn’t going to go willingly or meekly. And she clearly wasn’t going to bow to any bullying tactics. He liked her more and more.

  Madeleine wondered what game the man played. One moment he seemed to be on her side, the next testing her. Yes, that was what he was about. He wanted to know if she would be a meek and mild wife, easy to push around and get his own way. She looked back into his eyes. Strange, there was no arrogance. But there was something else. Something akin to hope. Did he have expectations too? With someone else. That was something she hadn’t thought about. Did he have dreams of his own that didn’t involve a wife? Would he really throw her from her own home in nothing but the clothes she wore?

  She suddenly noticed something else in his expression. The tiny crinkles around his eyes defied his attempt not to laugh. So! A bluff then. The scoundrel!

  “But you won’t cast me out. You gave your word to my father and you have already told me that I can stay. Within the hearing of both Mrs. Grenfell and Doctor Finch. If you throw me out now, you will have broken your promise, and I don’t believe you are the dishonourable kind.”

  Asher smiled as he took another sip of his tea.

  “And you would be right. Though I believe your father stretched the truth somewhat to gain my trust. I had forsworn becoming married myself before I knew anything about you.”

  “You had? For what reason?” She looked him up and down as if he might have grown an extra arm or leg.

  He sighed as he glanced around the opulent but tasteful room and shook his head.

  “It is a story for another time. We have arrangements to make, though I believe your father had gone quite far in... well, in announcing our engagement.”

  It was Madeleine’s turn to sigh.

  “Yes, the invites have already gone out. Naturally we will cancel in view of my father’s murder.” Her voice trembled as she said the words.

  Asher placed his cup back on the tea tray and leaned forwards, steepling his fingers as he rested his elbows on his knees. One broken engagement was quite enough for any man, and while he may have had some qualms, there was no way he was letting this siren leave the safety of Claiborne. She would become prey to all manner of disreputable men. He hid the shudder that swept through his body at the thought.

  “We will do no such thing. We will continue as planned. It was your father’s wish.”

  Madeleine shot up from her seat.

  “But he was murdered! What about my year of mourning? And we do not know one another. I might not even like you.” She stumbled back at the scorching look now in his eyes, and bit her own tongue as her mind shouted ‘liar’ at her.

  Asher looked her up and down, his perusal obvious.

  “Perhaps we might try to come to know one another better before we make any sweeping statements about cancelling the engagement announcements. As I said, when I agreed to your parents’ wishes, I made the promise to attempt to gain your approval. I would be going back on my word if I gave up immediately, and I confess that I like what I see. I just hope that when you are able to see past the ill timing of my visit, you will reciprocate the feeling.”

  She remained silent for a few moments. Benjamin Asher Derwent certainly did not displease her eye, but her father’s death could not simply be got over within a few hours, or days, or even weeks. Their imminent engagement was impossible.

  “I am sorry, but I do not feel anything towards you. I don’t dislike you and can see that you are an honourable man, but...”

  Ash interrupted her.

  “Madeleine, sit down a moment.” He waited until she had perched back on her chair. “I am not expecting any declarations of love. I am not about to offer them to you and do not expect you to do so to me. I would simply like you to keep an open mind. And if you feel that you might at some stage be able to...” He left his words hanging for a moment before continuing. “Well, we don’t have to discuss any of that right now. What we do need to talk about is how we are going to go about this. I confess that while I knew your father to be ill, I wasn’t expecting to become the earl quite so suddenly. I have certain business commitments and promises that I cannot renege upon. I must return to London soon and I am uncomfortable leaving you unattended with a murderer at large. We must make suitable arrangements.”

  Madeleine blinked back sudden tears. As furious as she was with her father’s plans, she couldn’t deny the instant attraction she felt to this man. What woman wouldn’t? He was handsome, tall, apparently well mannered, caring, and obviously a man of his word. But to be put in such a position... She drew in a deep breath.

  “And what arrangements will we make? Would you like me to move to the dower house or hunting lodge immediately?”

  Ash shook his head.

  “No, you are far safer in this house with plenty of people about to protect you. I don’t want you to move at all. For my own peace of mind I need you to remain here.”

  She looked at him quizzically.

  “So you will settle temporarily in the hunting lodge or dower house?”

  He shook his head again.

  “No. As heir to Claiborne, this is now my home. When I return from my business trip I will remain here also.”

  Madeleine stood up again and twisted her hands together.

  “That is not possible. I will be ruined if I live here with a man who is not my husband. Even in a house of this size there will be opportunity for gossip. Though I do not wish to marry, with us both living beneath the same roof I’ll never be able to hold my head up in society again.” She began to pace the floor.

  Asher sat
back in his chair, his long legs stretching out in front of him as he watched her.

  “Perhaps we should defy convention and marry immediately. I for one would not object.” The words were out of his mouth before he knew what he was saying, but he didn’t regret them or wish to take them back. No, something moved in his chest, grew bigger, grew warmer with every passing second.

  Madeleine pressed her hand to her throat and came to a halt as she stared at him.

  “You are mad! Utterly mad! This conversation is at an end. I will send for the vicar to make arrangements for my father’s funeral.” She turned to leave the room, but Asher leapt to his feet and placed a hand on her arm.

  “Don’t dismiss the idea without some thought. Your parents wanted us to marry. They believed us to be well-matched. And our betrothal has already been announced.”

  Madeleine tore her arm from him.

  “How could they know how well matched we are? I doubt they ever met you before, and if they had, how could they tell what sort of man I might prefer. They never asked my opinion once.” Her eyes flashed angrily at him, but Asher wasn’t about to be put off. Not now the subject had been broached.

  “I did not lie, Madeleine. I did meet them. Almost three years ago, and I have corresponded regularly with your father since that first meeting. He has kept me appraised on the subject of your education, your talents, even the way you style your hair.” His eyes drifted up to the glossy brown curls that surrounded her charming face. “I know that you ride well, that you take an interest in the estate’s tenants, that you have a black and white cat that you hide in the barn...”

  Madeleine gasped.

  “He knew about Smudge?”

  Asher nodded and smiled.

  “And about Smudge’s kittens. Apparently your father was very fond of the one that delivered live frogs to his study almost every day.”

  Madeleine laughed through the tears that threatened to fall from her lashes.

  “I had to rise early every morning to remove Squeak’s presents. I didn’t realize I had missed some.”

  Ash tilted his head.

  “Squeak? An odd name for a cat.”

  Madeleine laughed again.

  “The silly thing made friends with the mice in the barn rather than catching them. When she was tiny she made a funny little squeak rather than a purr.”

  “And Squeak catches frogs instead of mice. Do the other kittens have such interesting talents?” Ash reached forwards and brushed a glistening droplet of saltwater from her cheek with the pad of his thumb.

  She pulled a handkerchief from her pocket and wiped her eyes.

  “Not talents as such. Fumble doesn’t catch anything. She relies on the others to bring her titbits. It’s a wonder she doesn’t starve. And Eros.” Madeleine felt herself blush. “Well, Eros was always an affectionate kitten. He always made straight for myself or the maids for a scratch beneath his chin or behind his ear. And he hasn’t changed much since, though his tastes now rest with the feline kind.”

  It was Ash’s turn to smile.

  “Ah, I see. So you might have called him Casanova, if you had known his proclivities earlier.”

  She rolled her eyes.

  “The tenants call him something else entirely. I have heard him referred to as ‘that damned cat!’ by several householders who are suddenly overwhelmed by his offspring. And he likes to make sure they don’t forget him either. He marks his territory vocally as well as in the usual manner. He is not the most popular tom in the neighbourhood.” She paused. “I didn’t know that my father knew about them.” There was a slight hitch in her voice, but the smile still played about her lips. “I wonder why he never said anything about the frogs.” She glanced up at Ash.

  Ash shrugged his big shoulders as he stared into her shining eyes. It was like looking at fresh morning dew on a lush meadow.

  “Perhaps it was something that amused him. I think a frog in my study first thing in the morning might amuse me. Catching it might keep one limber, at any rate.” He regretted his words almost immediately when her face saddened again.

  “I suppose that you can do what you like as it is your study now, though I hope you will leave me to clear it of my father’s personal items.”

  Ash nodded.

  “Of course. But I insist that you let me keep any stray frogs.” Relief filled him as her smile returned.

  She tucked a stray curl of hair behind her ear as she answered him.

  “Would you like me to leave you a jar or should we order a tin bath for you to keep them in.”

  Ash barked a laugh.

  “I could borrow a font from the church. At least it would look more aesthetically pleasing than a bath. But no. Perhaps chucking them out of the window might be the best idea. All that spawn floating about...And I would have to go cricket hunting.”

  Madeleine gave a pretend shudder. She liked the sound of crickets in the summer and didn’t want them to be eaten.

  “Indeed, but on that note we must leave things. I need to see the vicar.”

  Ash nodded.

  “As do I.”

  Madeleine glanced up at him.

  “You do? For an introduction, I assume.”

  Ash shook his head and he bent slightly towards her and caught hold of her hand.

  “To arrange a wedding. Our wedding.”

  Her smile dropped.

  “But you cannot. I have not yet agreed to marry you. I have not yet even agreed to try.” She tried to wrench her hand away from him, but gave up as his fingers squeezed hers.

  Ash drew her close to him. Her scent invaded his senses and he breathed in deeply. Madness overtook him. He didn’t care that she was in deep mourning. She did things to him that no other woman had ever done before.

  “But you will. I insist.” Boldness overtook him. He leaned down, his nose touching her hair as he inhaled more of her subtle fragrance. She smelled of freshly cut grass, of wild flowers whispering in a breeze, of something entirely her own. His lips found the soft skin below her ear and he heard her soft sigh before he stood straight again.

  Her fingers reached up, brushing his kiss away but her eyes searched his as she gathered her senses. Tingles of pleasure shot through her, so mesmerized was she that she found it impossible to protest at his impropriety. The strange sensation continued to run through her whole body. What had he done to her? Had he cast a spell over her wits? Clearly, for her thoughts ran in wild circles inside her head.

  “Madeleine...” His voice was barely a whisper. “Give me hope.”

  She stared up at him. Could a man really be this entrancing, this tempting? Yes, she had seen friends marry, but she had never seen this burning need in any of their husbands’ eyes. Some of them had looked more bored than enraptured with their brides. Yet here was Asher Derwent begging for hope. And even though her father was not yet in his grave, she was sorely tempted to give it to him.

  Chapter Six

  A Prayer and a Proposal

  “I came as soon as Mathews called. Obviously I had heard the news in town, but thought to wait for the constable to make his enquires. But this is dreadful! Awful! How can it have happened? What will you do? Where will you go?” The Reverend Cuthbert Green stood before her in the garden room wringing his hands as his unanswered questions fell from his lips. “We must pray for your father’s soul.” He grabbed a cushion from the chair and dropped to his knees.

  Madeleine pressed her palms together and prayed with him. Now that she was away from Asher Derwent’s all too enticing presence she could concentrate. A few quiet thoughts wouldn’t go amiss before she moved on to more important things. Namely discovering her father’s killer.

  Mathews had left Claiborne several hours earlier. Suspicion still lay at the hands of Thomas Frederick Leyman, and as he had not yet come forward to clear his name, it seemed that the constable was happy enough to accept the general consensus of opinion. He needed to round up a group of men willing to search for the wayward stable master.


  Madeleine wasn’t convinced. After calming the riotous beating of her heart, the fault of the far too enigmatic Asher Derwent, she had given her opinion to Mathews who had resolutely ignored her.

  Her prayers came to an end long before Reverend Green’s. She had asked for her father’s soul to be joined with her mother’s, and that Milady’s foal remain safe. She had also asked for guidance in her own life.

  Confusion warred within her. When her father had told her of his plans, her mind had instantly rebelled. How dare he dictate whom she should marry! The anger had been unstoppable. But now, with the cold truth of her position laid bare before her, she was unsure. She never considered that he might have actually chosen quite well, his reasoning based on the circumstances of the entailment, her needs, and her wild nature.

  It wasn’t as if she had ever given him any direction in a choice of her own. While her friends all gossiped about the most eligible bachelors over iced fancies or embroidery, she had been out riding Milady wearing an old pair of Aiden’s breeches, or turning over fallen stones in the ancient ruined abbey, desperate to find any treasure from a time long forgot. Gentlemen of any kind had not been high in her thoughts.

  While Reverend Green continued his murmurings, she wondered if her father had reported her more uncommon traits to Asher Derwent. He hadn’t appeared put out by her understandable chaotic emotions that morning. But for all his good humour and pleasing looks, he might well be adverse to seeing her sweaty from a good gallop, or covered in dust and mud.

  She also wondered at Asher’s sudden insistence that he must make a quick visit to town. Forgetting the sleeping maid was even there, she had watched him leave after she had run through the secret passageway and back into her bedroom. Once again she admired the man’s seat upon the mammoth horse trotting briskly down the drive.

  It was only as he disappeared out of the gates that she had turned to discover the maid yawning, stretching her arms above her head as she slowly looked around. Gertrude blinked in surprise and rose quickly when she realised where she sat, but Madeleine soon calmed the woman’s frayed nerves.