Emma’s own smile was sympathetic. “I am truly sorry for your ordeal. I tried to stop Sean that day, but all I could do was send for Kell.”
Remembering, Raven shuddered.
“If I may be of any assistance to you,” Emma offered, “you need only ask.”
“Thank you,” she replied. “Actually…” She leaned forward. “There is a way you could help me. I find myself in…an awkward situation, wed to a stranger. I don’t doubt you know far more about my husband than I do. It would be helpful if you could tell me more about him. I have only heard bits and pieces regarding his past, and some of those were ugly rumors.”
Emma hesitated a moment before answering. “I suppose you mean the rumors about him murdering his uncle.”
“Yes. Sean intimated to me that they were true.”
Anger filled Emma’s eyes, while her mouth pressed together in a tight line. “I don’t know how their uncle came to die, but I would stake my life on it-Kell Lasseter is not a murderer. And Sean is an ungrateful wretch to imply otherwise after all Kell has done for him!”
Her vehement defense of Kell pleased Raven and only strengthened her own belief in his innocence. “I didn’t think Kell guilty,” she observed. “But he wouldn’t confirm or deny the rumors. All he would say was that his uncle sent his mother to an early grave after taking her sons from her. And that his scar was the result of a blow from his uncle’s signet ring.”
Emma nodded. “I don’t think I would be betraying Kell’s confidence to share what is common knowledge. You know his mother was Irish?”
“Yes.”
“Well, she was not of the gentry, merely the daughter of an Irish physician, and the Lasseters despised her for it. When she was widowed, William Lasseter became her sons’ guardian and threatened to withhold every cent of their inheritance unless Fiona gave up all claim to them.”
“And did she?”
“Yes. From what Sean told me, she couldn’t bear to deprive her sons of their birthright. And she didn’t have the means to fight so powerful a family. She returned to Ireland and died there of an ague, alone and penniless. William refused even to let her sons go to visit her grave.”
“Then it is understandable why Kell would loathe his uncle.”
“Yes, but that isn’t the only reason. According to Sean, William was a tyrant. And someone with Kell’s rebellious nature wouldn’t take kindly to such dictatorial control. Some years later, he became involved in a violent dispute with his uncle, which is when Kell received his scar. He escaped with Sean to Ireland and hid out on the streets of Dublin, barely managing to survive. Sean told me that more than once they had to resort to eating rats-although he might have made that story up simply to unsettle me.”
Raven felt herself shudder. “So what happened next?”
“That isn’t so clear. Eventually William pursued them to Dublin, where he took up lodgings and spent weeks searching for his nephews. But one day he simply disappeared. His body was discovered on a road outside Dublin. Apparently he’d been set upon by highwaymen and killed for his purse.”
“Then why was Kell suspected of his murder?”
“Because William had been run through with a sword blade-an unusual choice of weapons for road agents, who normally use pistols. And Kell was a skilled swordsman. Sean says Kell learned the sport so he could hold his own with his uncle, who was a champion fencer. The theory was that Kell killed William in a duel and then disposed of the body.”
“That seems flimsy evidence on which to base charges so serious as murder.”
“Well, the charges actually came a bit later, from William’s family. They were outraged by his death and felt certain Kell was to blame, but they could never prove it. And it didn’t help that Kell never expressed any grief over his uncle’s demise, or that he refused to return to England. He wanted nothing to do with the Lasseters or their wealth, even though he had to turn to gaming to scrape out a living. He was determined to raise Sean on his own, away from their influence. Kell even refused to accept the inheritance that was rightfully his. Everything you see here, he earned through his own efforts.”
Raven glanced around the lavish room, feeling a touch of guilt. Despite the trials of her childhood, she’d had an easy life compared to Kell’s. She had to admire a man who would make such a sacrifice for his brother. And even though his past was shadowed in secrets, she thought she knew Kell well enough by now to be certain he couldn’t
be guilty of cold-blooded murder.
Emma started to speak again but was interrupted when a boy of perhaps ten entered the library, unsteadily carrying a tea tray. He was followed by the majordomo whom Raven had met before.
Under Timmons’s watchful regard, the boy carefully set the tray on the tea table, then looked up at the servant, seeking approval with a hint of fear in his eyes.
Raven could scarcely contain her dismay at the boy’s appearance. Even though he was clean and well-groomed, he was thin to the point of emaciation. Worse, his face and hands sported numerous bruises and open sores that looked suspiciously like burns.
“Thank you, Nate,” Emma said gently. “That was well done of you.”
“Oi, mum.” His coarse accent suggested his lower class origins.
When both the butler and boy had gone, Emma took up the teapot to pour, but she evidently saw Raven’s troubled frown and hastened to explain. “Nate was a climbing boy until last week. Kell discovered him in an alleyway being beaten by his master and forcibly purchased him.”
Raven winced at the image. Climbing boys were little more than slaves and so often ill-treated-by being prodded up chimneys with knives and flaming torches-that they sometimes died.