An Earl's Redemption: Regency Romance (Brides of London)

by Joyce Alec

  Lord Ancrum took a hasty step forward, his eyes widening and his hands spreading wide as though to declare his innocence. “I am no actor, Miss Whitaker!” he exclaimed, sounding greatly distressed by the fact that she had even considered him to be guilty. “When I saw Lord Paulson, my senses left me entirely. I did not know what to do.” He shook his head and closed his eyes tightly, his expression a mask of pain. “Even now, I am not certain…”

  “What did you do?” Lydia asked, seating herself before she lost her balance due to the trembling in her limbs. “What was it that you did with Lord Paulson’s body?”

  Lord Ancrum opened his eyes and looked at her and, although Lydia gestured for him to sit down, he merely continued to hold her gaze.

  “I informed the staff of what I had found,” he said softly, his head falling forward onto his chest. “A Bow Street Runner was sent for and the matter is now with them, although what they can do in order to assist in finding the culprit, I have very little idea.”

  Lydia blinked rapidly. The Bow Street Runners, set up by Sir John Fielding, were the only men who might be able to come to some conclusion of the matter of Lord Paulson’s death, although if the culprit was someone of high standing, then consequences would be few and far between. A title bore a good deal of weight, even in criminal matters.

  “I am to visit Covent Garden later this afternoon, once I have finished calling upon you,” Lord Ancrum said, beginning to pace up and down the room. “I have to speak about what it is I discovered last evening and give a full account of it. The rumors have been quelled merely by the fact that Lord Paulson’s staff have been warned in the strongest terms to be discreet, and thus far, it has been kept from the eager ears of the ton.”

  Lydia closed her eyes tightly, trying not to allow the memory of what she had seen to come back to her again. If she allowed it to, then the scent of the blood, the pallor of Lord Paulson’s face, and the sound of her own gasping breath would overcome her.

  “But the ton do not matter to me, Lydia.”

  Lord Ancrum was looking at her now with such decisiveness in his expression that, as Lydia opened her eyes to look back at him, she could almost feel his expectant hope.

  “I must know whether you believe me a murderer,” he said quietly. “If you believe that I have done the foulest of deeds, then I shall leave this place at once and never return. I shall declare to all who ask that our betrothal has come to an end, due to my own selfishness, and bear the blame and the guilt and the mockery that shall come thereafter. In short, Miss Whitaker, I shall do all I can to release you from this dreadful situation as best I can, should you wish it. All you need to do is say that you do not wish to wed me.”

  Lydia took in a long breath, her chest constricting as she considered what it was that Lord Ancrum asked of her. Did she believe that he was the one guilty of Lord Paulson’s murder? Yes, he had confused her with his behaviors prior to last evening, but she did not think, in the depths of her heart, that he had killed another man.

  “No, Lord Ancrum,” she said slowly, seeing him sinking into a chair at her words, clearly overcome with relief. “No, I cannot believe or accept that you were the one to kill Lord Paulson. However,” she continued, lifting her chin and letting her breath out slowly, “I must know the truth about what you were doing at Lord Paulson’s home. There is no explanation for why you were in his library alone, especially when the guests were meant to be listening to the musicians.” She tilted her head and regarded him closely. “What is your explanation?”

  He let out a sigh, leaned forward, and set his head in his hands. “It is a truth that is not only mine to share, Miss Whitaker.”

  A quiver of anger ran through her. “I will not allow that to stand, Lord Ancrum,” she stated firmly. “You must speak the truth, for you cannot expect me merely to sit here quietly, not after all that has occurred!” She pinned him with a sharp gaze, despite her thumping heart. “What was your purpose in leaving the musical performance last evening?”

  Lord Ancrum sat up, his hair now slightly askew from where he had thrust his hands through it. His eyes were heavy but his jaw held a firmness that told her his resolve was still steady.

  “I was looking for something,” he told her, his voice solemn. “I did not seek to injure nor harm Lord Paulson in any way. In fact, the only reason I removed myself from the musical performance was because I believed Lord Paulson to be within the room with his guests.”

  Lydia frowned, her brows knotting together as she considered this.

  “You yourself did not see Lord Paulson leave?” Lord Ancrum asked, his eyes searching her face. “Can you recall if he was in the room with you before you left?”

  Shaking her head, Lydia bit her lip before she answered. “I was somewhat distracted,” she replied honestly. “My mother and I…” She trailed off, not wanting to answer further. “No, I do not recall either seeing Lord Paulson in the room or leaving the room last evening.”

  Lord Ancrum let out a long, slow breath and then ran one hand over his face. He was clearly upset and deeply distracted by thoughts of Lord Paulson and what had occurred last evening and, for a moment, Lydia felt her heart swell with sympathy for him. She believed him to be innocent of Lord Paulson’s death and the horror of what he had seen must be overwhelming him.

  “But I did fall asleep for some time,” she added, seeing his gaze jerk back to her. “It may well be that Lord Paulson left when I was resting.”

  Lord Ancrum sighed again and shook his head. “I do not know who did such a thing. I was searching the house for some time and it was not until I lit candles in the library that I realized that…”

  “And just what were you searching for?” Lydia asked softly, leaning forward in her chair and holding his gaze with a gentle intensity. “Please. If we are to be betrothed, if we are to continue on into matrimony, then we must begin our path together in trust and understanding.”

  A look of surprise crossed Lord Ancrum’s face, his eyes alight for a moment. “You—you expect to continue towards matrimony, Miss Whitaker? Even though I—”

  “I believe you innocent and, as such, can see no reason to shame either myself or you by bringing an end to our betrothal,” Lydia interrupted, suddenly feeling a good deal more certainty than she had before. “Therefore, I would beg you again to speak to me honestly with the truth of what it was you were doing last evening.”

  Lord Ancrum closed his eyes tightly, his expression conflicted for a long moment. Lydia held her breath, not quite certain what he was going to say. Would he trust her enough to tell her the truth? Or would he keep her in the dark?

  “Blackmail.”

  The word came out slowly, prolonging its weight as it came to rest in her mind.

  “Blackmail,” Lord Ancrum said again, looking at her with a clear expression as he spoke. “I sought to find something with which I might blackmail Lord Paulson.” He winced and looked away, appearing a little ashamed. “I cannot give you the specific reasons as to why I was doing such a thing, but there is the truth of it.”

  “You sought to find something to blackmail him with?” Lydia repeated, her eyes flaring wide. “What was it he had over you?”

  “Nothing, nothing!” Lord Ancrum said, spreading his hands wide. “I sought to aid a friend, that is all.”

  Lydia let out her breath and felt her anxiety begin to build all over again. She wanted to ask who this friend might be, but realized that this was not the time to do so. That particular fact was of little importance. “Then might not the guilt of Lord Paulson’s death easily fall upon your shoulders if it becomes known that this is what you were doing last evening?” she asked, her fingers clasping tightly together as she looked at him. “Might you not be blamed?” She saw his cheeks pale just a little, as if he had not thought of such a thing before, and her heart began to sink in her chest. What was it he intended to do? The Bow Street Runners were often particularly thorough in their investigations and if they discovered what Lord An
crum had been doing, then would they not consider him guilty, just as she had done?

  “I—I had not considered such an outcome,” Lord Ancrum murmured, closing his eyes tightly and rubbing his eyes with a curled fist. “I—”

  Lydia let out a long breath and got to her feet, looking at Lord Ancrum’s pale face and feeling her heart reach out to him. He looked up at her, seeing her extended hand and yet not moving even an inch. And then, slowly, he got to his feet and reached out his hand to hers and took it, their fingers touching for the first time. Lydia’s arm jolted with a flush of heat which only steadied her resolve.

  “We shall find a way through this together, Lord Ancrum,” she told him decisively. “You shall not go on any longer alone. We are betrothed and as such, I intend to remain by your side and ensure that you do not hold the blame for Lord Paulson’s death.”

  Lord Ancrum let out a breath and smiled at her, his sadness and fear lifting for a moment. “You are quite remarkable, Miss Whitaker,” he replied, somewhat gruffly as though hiding the truth of his emotions. “I have not behaved well towards you, I know, but yet you have decided to remain with me and do all you can to aid me.” He shook his head and passed a hand over his eyes, as though he could not quite believe she was to do such a thing. “I do not know what to say.”

  Lydia pressed his hand lightly, her chin lifting as she looked up into his eyes, finding her heart quickening for a moment. “I believe we shall have to draw closer together if we are to solve this mystery,” she replied firmly. “And in the meantime, we must continue to court and begin to prepare for our wedding.” A wry smile tugged at her lips. “A strange start indeed to a courtship, I must say.”

  “And yet, in the midst of such confusion and upset, it appears I have found the very best of ladies,” Lord Ancrum replied, bringing a warmth to Lydia’s cheeks. “I am grateful to you in more ways than I can express. I must now hasten to Covent Garden, but might I call upon you again tomorrow? There will be more to say, I am certain of it.”

  Lydia smiled and let go of his hand, taking a small step back. She felt more settled within herself now, with a sense of direction deep within her soul. “Indeed, Lord Ancrum, I should be glad to see you. A walk, mayhap?”

  “That would be greatly enjoyable,” he replied with a deep bow. “I look forward to being in your company once more.”

  Her smile remained on her lips. “As do I,” she replied, before dropping into a quick curtsy as he stepped towards the door.

  11

  “It is a fine afternoon indeed, Miss Whitaker.”

  Joseph felt his heart lift in his chest as Miss Whitaker lifted her face to his, a light smile spread upon her lips. The events of the last few days had thrust him from despondency to joy and back again, but now that he knew Miss Whitaker trusted him to be innocent of Lord Paulson’s death, Joseph felt himself somewhat more settled than he had been before.

  “I—I am glad to be with you,” he told her, stammering awkwardly as he tried to put into words what he felt. The urge to be honest with her had begun to wind its way into his heart, which made it all the more difficult for him that he had not as yet told her that it had been Lady Starling who had begged for his help with Lord Paulson. There was no reason not to tell her, of course, for he was quite sure that Miss Whitaker would understand, but at the same time, Joseph did not want to see the flare of disappointment in her eyes that he was certain would be there. He did not want Miss Whitaker to think that he had been aiding someone like Lady Starling, for, no doubt, she might then think that he had been receiving back from her a reward of a most intimate nature. It would be quite an understandable thought, given the nature of Lady Starling’s character, but he did not want even the thought to enter Miss Whitaker’s mind. There was no reason to inform her about Lady Starling, he reasoned with himself, as they continued to walk. That particular fact could remain unspoken.

  “That is most kind of you to say, Lord Ancrum,” Miss Whitaker replied, her cheeks a little flushed. “I will admit that I am unused to garnering so much attention from those that pass by, so you must excuse my blushes.”

  Joseph arched a brow, having not been aware of how those who walked past them looked directly at first himself and then at Miss Whitaker. He had been much too caught up with Miss Whitaker herself as well as his own thoughts.

  “The news of our betrothal will have gone through London by now,” he told her, thinking quietly that her flushed cheeks were somewhat becoming. “The news will soon be overtaken by another scrap of gossip or someone else’s engagement, I am quite certain.” He tried to smile encouragingly and was gratified when Miss Whitaker’s eyes darted up to his and then returned to the path, whilst her smile lingered on her lips. Apparently, he had managed to reassure her.

  “How did you fare at Covent Garden?”

  Her question tugged the air from his lungs for a moment, forcing him to recall the hours he had spent explaining what he had found. The Bow Street Runners were thorough, just as he had suspected, and it had wearied him greatly to have to repeat all that had gone on over and over again.

  “I had to speak the truth,” he replied carefully. “I told them the truth of what had occurred and I believe that they accepted it.”

  Miss Whitaker shot him a glance that told Joseph she was a little surprised at this. “You told them all?”

  He nodded. “I did,” he replied truthfully. “I saw no good reason to hold anything back, even though you are quite right to state that the blame must then easily fall onto my shoulders.” He winced, knowing that there had been suspicion in the eyes of the fellow who had spoken to him only yesterday. “I told them that Lord Paulson was known to be a blackmailer and that, in seeking to come to the aid of a friend, I was searching for something with which I might, in turn, use against him. This was in order to prevent him from continuing to have such a tight hold on those whom he thought to blackmail.” A small shrug lifted his shoulder. “But ultimately, I did not come to any satisfactory conclusion other than to discover Lord Paulson dead.”

  Miss Whitaker pressed her lips together tightly, her eyes now trained on his as he looked down at her. Their steps were slow, taking their time as they walked through Hyde Park. Joseph did not know what else to say, guessing that Miss Whitaker wanted to speak her thoughts but held herself back from doing so until she had given them consideration. He appreciated that about her.

  Eventually, she spoke.

  “And then might I surmise that you are considered to be the possible murderer, Lord Ancrum?”

  He sighed. “I must hope that my honesty will serve me in good stead, Miss Whitaker. As I have said, I saw no good reason to lie. If it was discovered that I had held the truth from them, would I not then appear to be even more under suspicion than I am at present?” Rubbing his forehead for a moment, he accidentally dislodged his hat, which he had to jam a little more tightly onto his head. The strain of the last two days began to weigh down heavily upon his soul and had it not been for Miss Whitaker’s presence beside him and the knowledge that she would support him, Joseph feared he might have given into despair.

  “I think that was wise of you,” Miss Whitaker replied, her voice filled with a gentle admiration. “However, if we are to ensure that you are not given the blame, we must attempt to discover who it was that killed Lord Paulson.” Her voice shook for a moment but she dragged in a long breath and, much to his surprise, reached up and settled her hand on his arm. Heat ran through him, making him catch his breath, as though the smallest of touches had set him alight. Miss Whitaker cleared her throat, evidently regaining her composure. “It must, therefore, have been someone within the house.”

  Joseph took a moment before he replied, not wanting to reveal to Miss Whitaker just how much her hand on his arm had affected him. “Indeed,” he replied, a trifle too gruffly. “The staff assured me that no one else entered the house. The doors were secured at all times.”

  Miss Whitaker sighed and shook her head. “Then, as unwilli
ng as I am to do so, we must consider the guests,” she replied, looking up at him with a grave expression. “I do not know many of them, however.”

  “I know some,” he replied, a little uneasily. “But how are we to discover the motive of the person behind such a cruel act?”

  Much to his surprise, Miss Whitaker let out a small chuckle, as though he were being truly ridiculous. “Is it not apparent?” she asked, tossing her head. “If Lord Paulson was blackmailing some of the ton, then surely that is the only explicable motive?” She frowned, her eyes back on the path ahead of them. “Someone must have left the room in order to seek out Lord Paulson, who had already quit the room for some reason.” Throwing him a quick glance, a rueful smile touched her lips. “Although I have very little thought as to how to discover such a thing.”

  Joseph’s brow furrowed. He could easily ask Lady Starling, for surely she would be aware of when Lord Paulson had quit the room and who else might have left. A small, nagging doubt began to push its way into his mind, making him wonder whether or not Lady Starling herself could have had anything to do with Lord Paulson’s death, but he swiftly pushed that thought away.

  The Bow Street Runner who had come to see Lord Paulson’s body had stated quite clearly that the person responsible for the man’s death would certainly have had some blood on their person. In addition, he had stated that it would have taken a good deal of force to push the knife so deeply into Lord Paulson’s chest, and Lady Starling was a small sort of creature with very little strength. Besides which, had he not seen her when he had stepped back into the drawing room with his newly engaged Miss Whitaker by his side? She had been sitting in the very seat he had last seen her and had not yet followed him from the room, as had been planned.

  Joseph realized that he had not as yet spoken to Lady Starling about what had occurred, feeling almost guilty that he had not done so. However, he told himself, his priority had been Miss Whitaker and therefore, he needed not feel any sort of guilt over what he had done. Miss Whitaker was to be his first consideration from this moment on. After all, she was to be his wife.