Martin grimaced. After a moment, he said, "When we were younger, he was always in our shadow."
Amanda kept silent; if she was struggling to reconcile the possibility, then how much harder would it be for him?
Two minutes later, she closed her hand over one of Martin's, twined her fingers with his, felt him glance at her. "I just remembered something Lady Osbaldestone said. I'm not sure what she was alluding to, but it wasn't just your situation. She said that in even the best of families, there's often a bad apple in an otherwise sound crop. She said that in your case, no one believed you were a bad apple. She didn't say it in so many words, but I gathered she considered it a family's duty to weed out the bad apple."
She met his gaze. "I was just thinking-wasn't that what your father thought he was doing? What he felt, for the family's sake, he had to do? Only he picked the wrong apple."
He held her gaze for a moment, then his grew distant; he looked back at his horses. A minute passed, then he stirred, glanced around. "Luc will be God knows where at this hour."
"But he'll meet us at Fulbridge House at four."
When Martin nodded, his expression grim, she quietly added, "And between then and now, we have Lady Hetherington's alfresco luncheon and Lady Montague's at-home."
He looked at her, then swore.
They attended both events. Although Martin cloaked his impatience in effortless charm, his temper had never been so close to his surface; Amanda could feel it, a thrumming tension just beneath his skin. It grated on her nerves. When, ten minutes after they'd arrived at Lady Montague's, Martin grumbled in her ear, "Can we go now?" she obligingly developed a headache, and excused them both.
Martin helped her into his curricle, then whipped up his horses for Park Lane.
"Edward?" Reggie stared. "The blackguard! Yes, I can just imagine it, the way he proses on and on-"
"Wait!" Martin cut him off.
Together with Reggie, Amanda looked at Martin, standing before the library windows, staring at the courtyard filled with greenery.
"We shouldn't condemn him without proof. As yet, we have none."
She conceded, "All we know is that it might be him."
Martin sighed. "In all cases-Sarah, Buxton and Reggie-Edward had both knowledge and opportunity, something we've yet to establish for anyone else. However, until we have unequivocal proof, I suggest we temper our stand."
From the chaise on which he was reclining, Reggie grimaced at Amanda, perched in her favorite spot on the daybed. She leaned forward and whispered, "Could it have been Edward you saw?"
"Yes, damn it!" Reggie whispered back. "I said it looked like Dexter because I'd just seen him, and it was him who was asking-I was facing him then and there. I know it wasn't Luc because his hair is pitch in the night, but if Dexter hadn't been there to compare with, I'd have said the blackguard looked just like Edward." Reggie glanced at Martin's back. "Not that that will wash as proof, unfortunately."
Luc arrived as the clocks struck four. He took one look at Martin's face, and asked, "What?"
Martin told him, repeating Amelia's unprompted words.
When Martin fell silent, Amanda spoke, pointing out the discrepancy in Edward's known behaviors. "The image he consistently paints of himself is a fabrication. He's not a kind and caring brother, not truly, and he's not an upstanding, righteously moral gentleman, either."
Slumped in an armchair, Luc stared at her; his face was pale, but his expression wasn't disbelieving. After a moment, he looked at Martin, then heaved a heavy sigh. "I still remember Sarah." He closed his eyes briefly, then opened them and fixed his gaze on Martin's face. "And yes, I can believe it of Edward."
It was the last thing Martin had expected to hear-his shock, his quick frown said as much. "How…?" He came closer. "Are you sure?"
"Sure he did it? No. Sure he could have done it-yes." Luc glanced at Amanda and Reggie, then looked at Martin again. "I know him-the real Edward-a lot better than any of you. What Amanda said is right-the image Edward projects to the ton is quite different to the man he really is. And no, it isn't something that's happened recently."
Luc looked down, straightened his sleeve. "I used to wonder if it was just jealousy, a reaction to the fact that you and I were always… just more-better, stronger, whatever. Edward could never measure up, even if no one used that particular yardstick but him. But when he was seven, I caught him torturing the household cat. I rescued her, took her away-I didn't tell Papa, but I tried to explain to Edward that what he'd done was wrong. He didn't understand, not then, not later."
He glanced at Martin. "You probably never heard, but Edward was frequently in trouble at school-for bullying. Since he came on the town, I've had little real contact with him; he knows I don't approve, so takes care I don't hear. Nevertheless, his attitude for years has been that we-the wealthy, the titled, the chosen few-matter, while all those of lesser degree are merely here for our convenience." After a moment, he added, "The servants hate him. If it wasn't for Mama and the girls, they wouldn't bear with him.
"So could he have forced Sarah, killed Buxton, said nothing when you, who he always resented, were accused? Could he have shot Reggie thinking he was you? Yes." Luc looked at Martin. "If he let you take the blame for him once, I doubt he'd hesitate to make that permanent."
Martin held Luc's gaze, then stepped around and dropped onto the daybed. He shook his head, and slumped back, staring at the ceiling. After a time, he glanced at Luc. "We still need evidence."
"Short of wringing a confession from Edward-and you won't-I can't see where you'll get it. He's clever, calculating and there's not an ounce of warmth to what runs in his veins. Appealing to his sense of honor would be a waste of time-he doesn't recognize the concept."
The bitterness behind Luc's words, the set of his long lips, spoke eloquently of his feelings-he'd tried and knew he'd failed to reform his brother. Amanda watched him, wondering if he would accept the need to bring Edward to justice. His next words answered that.