When Scandal Came to Town (Scandalous Sons 3)

The lord puffed out his chest. “I’ll not have you speak ill of my mother. It’s not obsessive to care for one’s child.”

Benedict had reached his limit of tolerance and so bellowed, “Admit you hired those men to beat me!”

Murray jumped back in shock at the sudden outburst. The stomping of footsteps on the boards upstairs left the man quivering like a boy awaiting the school bully.

“Now do you see what you’ve done?” Murray’s gaze lingered painfully on the stairs. He turned to Cassandra. “I told my mother I was the one who ended our betrothal. There’s no need to inform her otherwise.”

Curse the saints!

And to think Worthen wanted his daughter to marry this browbeaten, spineless excuse for a lord.

A figure shrouded in a white wrapper and frilly cap appeared at the top of the stairs. Lady Murray descended with forthright steps, her back as rigid as her opinions. She stared at them as if they were street urchins come begging for scraps.

“What’s the meaning of this?” Lady Murray stared down her pointed nose. “You’re accosted and abused in your own home, and you didn’t think to wake me?”

“It’s nothing, Mother.” The lord’s voice lacked the power he’d attempted to display earlier. “A case of mistaken identity, that is all.”

The matron glanced at the butler who had taken to lingering at the end of the hall. “Fetch the watchman, Fenwick. Let him remove these despicable beings.”

Benedict had dealt with this level of disdain many times before. “Yes, fetch the watchman, Fenwick. I wish to accuse Lord Murray of a crime. The marks on my face will act as evidence.” And yet a feeling in his gut told him Murray was innocent of any wrongdoing.

“A crime?” the matron scoffed. “Don’t be ridiculous. Timothy is an upstanding member of society, not a whoremonger willing to marry a harlot.” She smirked as her beady eyes turned to Cassandra. “Your father must be so proud.”

Cassandra straightened. Her face held the same determination he’d noted when she’d walloped the thug with the riding crop. “Well, you would know what it’s like to have a child who doesn’t live up to your expectations. How much longer do you think you can hide Timothy’s lavish spending? Has he lied about the cost of his new racing curricle?”

The matron blanched.

Terror marred Murray’s countenance. “It’s not new. I purchased it for an excellent price from a debt-ridden merchant who needed funds.” From the wobble in his voice, it was obviously a lie.

“I don’t know what nonsense you’ve concocted in your head, gel,” the matron began, “but do not think to come here and throw your absurd accusations.”

Cassandra shrugged. “Terrible things happen to respectable people. Unless we hear the truth from your son’s lips, we will be forced to spread ugly rumours. It might interest Miss Pendleton to learn that you’re on the brink of bankruptcy.”

Lady Murray’s cheeks ballooned. “Why, you devious little minx. Wait until—”

“Do not dare threaten me. Wait until we inform Tregarth that your son hired men to beat his son to death. Only a fool would risk the earl’s wrath. And your son is most definitely a fool.”

While Benedict watched the scene with glowing admiration for his wife, Murray threw his arms in the air in protest.

“How many times must I tell you? I know nothing about hiring ruffians from the rookeries. Someone wishes you to believe it was me to steer you away from the real culprit.”

Benedict sensed some truth in the lord’s words. “Then tell me, who else has a motive?”

“What about Purcell?” Murray suggested. “He despises Lord Worthen. Many times he warned me against marrying Cassandra. Perhaps he hired the men and gave my name to shift the blame.”

It was a possibility. Thankfully Benedict knew of a man with the right connections to discover the truth.

Lady Murray nodded. “Lord Purcell will go to great lengths to seek his revenge on Lord Worthen. He whispered his vile words in my ear, too. After consuming copious amounts of brandy at Lord Craven’s ball, he told anyone willing to listen that he had plans to make your father pay.”

Purcell knew about the demimonde’s riotous gatherings.

Purcell had spoken to Mrs Crandall of his devious plots. And so was he attempting to throw them off the scent by blaming Murray?

“Purcell left the ball early,” Lady Murray added. “Indeed, he disappeared long before your father came from the card room looking for you.”

Chapter Eleven

“What shall we do about Lord Purcell?” Cassandra relaxed back in the carriage and watched Benedict as he rummaged around in the leather satchel h