The Marquess Tames His Bride

He took another deep breath.

‘It wasn’t until we reached London that I considered taking advantage of our marriage, with regard to the investigation I’d already begun. I know that sounds cold, but don’t forget, at the time I thought you hated me. Had always hated me. So that there was no hope our marriage stood a chance anyway. And I knew somebody had murdered Archie. And the reason I kept you in the dark about it all was because I had no proof your brother was involved. Only suspicions. And I didn’t want to put you in the position where you might be obliged to take sides.’

‘Oh,’ she said. And then nodded and stepped forward and slid her arms round his waist.

‘He did it,’ she mumbled into his chest.

‘What?’ He took her face between his hands and turned it up so he could look into her eyes. Eyes which were deeply troubled.

‘Whatever it was you suspect him of doing. The first thing Clement said to me when I walked into his study was that he hadn’t done it. Since I didn’t know I was supposed to think he’d done anything, that put me on my guard. Because he always protested his innocence, even when I’d seen him do something beastly. Take…those puppies, for instance. I saw him throw the sack into the pond. And yet later, he shook his head over their poor little bodies and said how terrible it was that people could be so cruel, as though he was as shocked and upset as I was.

‘And then,’ she said, drawing a huge gulp of breath, ‘when Miss Hutton spoke of how Mr Kellet had drowned, my mind shot right back to those puppies. And I couldn’t help remembering how Mr Kellet always did put me in mind of a spaniel, with his big brown eyes and the eager way he used to follow you around. And I recalled how Lady Harriet had let slip that he’d come down here to search for some missing jewels. And I knew. I just knew…’

And then she went stiff and looked past him, to the jumble of rocks behind which Clement could very well be lurking.

‘I thought I saw something. Someone. Just a shadow, it might have been, but…’

Of one accord, they strode over to the rocks, to see if Clement was trying to overhear what they were discussing. But he was halfway down the track to the cottages, his long clerical coat flapping out behind him like the wings of some great crow.

‘How much do you think he heard?’

‘I don’t think he could have heard much,’ he said, patting her hand. ‘He was further away from us than you were when you heard my discussion with him. Besides, the wind and the roar of the surf and the crying of the gulls would have prevented much of our speech from reaching him.’

‘What do you think he plans to do? Where is he going?’

He slung his arm round her waist and tugged her to his side.

‘It doesn’t matter. Wherever he has gone, whatever he plans to do, I will not let him hurt you. Or damage us, I swear it.’

‘Yes, but you cannot let him get away scot-free. He is…he has gone bad. He was always full of mischief, was always inclined to be a bit of a bully, but…’ She shook her head. ‘And he would always blame everyone else. He’d sort of wind up his followers the way any other boy would wind up a top and set them off. He was always at the back of it, but nobody ever caught him, only those who followed him. The village boys were far less organised once he went away to university. And now he’s got a gang of smugglers to do his bidding. Oh,’ she said, placing one hand to her forehead. ‘I’m not telling you anything you don’t already know, am I? That is why you stopped being friends with him. Because he was a bully and taunted the other boys until they felt they had to join him.’

He hung his head for a moment. ‘I stayed out of his way. I did indeed know what he was, but instead of confronting him, I just…’

‘Then do it now. Stop him, before he goes any further.’

‘Somebody has to stop him, yes, I agree. But it will not be me. Just think—you might say you love me, but it will always be between us. Festering.’

‘No, it won’t!’

‘How could it be otherwise? In one form or another. You might be able to forgive me, but…there would be talk. Supposition. And I…you might not think it, but I do have a conscience. I know it would cause you grief to see your own brother brought to trial as a common criminal. And if I were the man responsible…’