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A Gentleman's Curse (Avenging Lords 4)

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Feeling a renewed flow of vengeance rushing through his veins, he captured Justin by his blood-stained cravat and yanked him forward. “Make any attempt to hurt my wife again, that includes making snide remarks, and I will put a lead ball between your neatly trimmed brows. Is that understood?”

Justin gulped and nodded vigorously.

“The wild dogs at the Westminster Pit are desperate to tear a man’s flesh from his bones,” Lockhart added. “There are numerous ways I might dispose of your body.”

Lockhart released him, and the fop stumbled back before landing on his arse. Taking hold of Claudia’s arm, Lockhart drew her towards the carriage. “We’ll continue to Falaura Glen as planned, spend an hour there and return to London posthaste.”

Claudia touched his upper arm. “Your cousin is no more than a besotted fool. I believe he would do anything for Selina, anything to secure a portion of your father’s estate. And yet I doubt he is capable of committing a violent crime.”

“I agree.” A heavy sadness weighed in Lockhart’s chest. It was time to track down his elusive brother and wring the truth from him if necessary. “Had Justin betrayed me I might have learnt to live with that, but not Terence.”

“I know.” She pursed her lips as her gaze softened. “The truth can be painful yet enlightening at the same time. But you cannot assume your brother’s guilt until it is proven.”

Frustration surfaced. “What other explanation is there?”

She gave a half shrug. “Soon, we will know.”

For some reason, her words acted as a balm for his wounds. “Then let’s be on our way.”

Lockhart climbed into the carriage behind Claudia and slammed the door shut.

“Wait!” Justin raced over and knocked on the glass pane. “What about me?”

Lockhart lowered the window. “I suggest you start searching for your horse. Failing that, you can always walk back to town.”

Chapter Twenty

Everything was as it should be at Falaura Glen. Emily lay sound asleep in bed, the corners of her mouth curled in a satisfied smile. Mrs Bitton confirmed all was well and so Claudia spent ten minutes ferreting around in her father’s study.

It was something Hudson had said earlier, that his father might not have written the letter he received while in India, that fanned the flame of doubt. Claudia found the document she wanted, locked in the bottom drawer of the desk. It was a legally binding contract—the sale of two acres of land—made between her father and Mr Thorncroft some three years earlier. Then she hunted out the receipts for household expenses.

Richard Darling made a point of signing and dating all receipts and marking them as paid. If one compared the signature on the bills from three years ago to the one on the contract, they were identical. However, examining the signature on the bills dated during the time of the supposed loan, revealed a discrepancy. Yes, they were almost similar to the naked eye. But as her father’s illness progressed, he lacked dexterity, and the pen strokes were not as smooth or fluid.

It wasn’t enough to approach the magistrate and declare something was amiss, but it was a start.

After securing the evidence and locking the desk drawer, Claudia made her way to the cottage to find Hudson. He, too, had gathered the leather satchel full of papers.

“Are you ready to leave?” he said, sliding his arm around her waist and pressing a kiss to her lips. “Dariell assures me your sister is happy. Last night, she beat him at cards.”

“Cards?” Claudia whispered so as not to disturb the Frenchman resting in the next room.

“Apparently, he cut numbers into each card and a symbol for each suit. He taught her to trace the symbols in order to identify which card she wished to play.”

Hudson spoke with admiration. Admiration and a deep abiding gratitude filled Claudia’s chest, too. No wonder Emily slept with a smile on her face.

Claudia was about to say that her sister would miss the Frenchman when he left, but that would only raise questions as to what would happen once the week was out, and there were other matters to attend to first.

The drive back to London passed without incident.

Claudia would have stared out of the window, hoping to see Justin Perigrew trudging back to town, had she not spent the entire journey sleeping.

The hustle and bustle of the city roused her from a blissful dream about the man seated opposite. Having taken full advantage of the few hours of peace to rest, too, he stretched his limbs and yawned.

“Will you check on my father while I speak to Simmonds?” Hudson said, rubbing his hand over the bristles on his chin. “I must know if Terence called during those hours my father was left unattended.”

Claudia studied the dark circles beneath his eyes, the frown between his brows that was swiftly becoming a permanent feature. These troubling events had taken their toll. Only when his mouth melded with hers, when he drove hard into her willing body, did his troubles melt away.

Thoughts of seduction filled her head.



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