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Authors: Anya Wylde

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BOOK: The Wicked Wager
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“But … but … the gardener is a hundred, at
least,” Prudence stuttered.

Using his little finger, Richard
wiped a bit of black coal from his teeth, and
wiggling his fingers in front of Prudence’s face, said, “It is a disguise, my
dear.”

“I do not know what is going on this
house—robberies, murders, earls pretending to be servants. I want to leave,” Mrs
Barker moaned.

“You forgot blackmail,” Prudence muttered.

A deathly silence fell in the room.
Everyone looked uncomfortable, and Prudence finally got up and left the room.

“I can’t eat a bite,” Catherine said,
staring at her plate.

“Have some chocolate,” Emma coaxed.

She pushed the offered cup away.

Lord Raikes took Catherine’s hand and
softly murmured in her ear.

She nodded distractedly and allowed him to
lead her outside
.

The others watched the couple depart, and
for once no one dared to mention chaperones.

***

“Lady Arden, I am sorry for your loss,”
Lord Raikes said as soon as they had escaped to the gardens and away from
listening ears.

She nodded mutely.

“I know you had your differences, but you
spent the most time with her. I can understand how hard this is for you.”

“All I can think of,” she replied,
trembling in emotion, “is how I disliked her during those last few days of her
life. I forgot about all her care and companionship simply because … because
she didn’t want me socialising. I wish I had been nicer to her or told her how
much she meant to me.”

He did not know how to reply or offer
comfort. He simply walked in silence until they found a bench and sat down.

Lord Raikes waited until Catherine stopped
weeping into her handkerchief. Once he was assured she had recovered her
composure, he said, “I don’t know if this is the right time to tell you, but I
am afraid you will hate me more if you hear it from the duke. I would like a
chance to explain.”

She looked at him blankly.

He bravely plodded on, “I am trying to
search for the right words,” he paused, and then said, “you are … umm …
engaged, My Lady.”

“Who is engaged?” she asked, confused.

“You are.”

“Me? I don’t understand. I am engaged, and
I don’t know it?”

“No, you see … you were engaged this
morning.”

“What do you mean by engaged? Am I engaged
for some outing?”

“Err … you are betrothed to a man.”

That snapped her out of her grief
momentarily. She stared at him in astonishment.

“The duke informed me of it this morning,” he
continued uncomfortably.

“He told you that I am engaged to a man? To
whom?”

“Me,” he replied sheepishly.

Her mouth dropped open in shock, and she
leapt up and said, “Are you jesting, My Lord?”

He shook his head.

“Did you ask for my hand?”

“Err … not exactly … I was also informed
that I am engaged to you.”

“But how could he do this without
consulting either of us?”

“That was my fault.”

She glared at him, “I thought as much.
Please explain clearly, My Lord, before I scream in frustration.”

“Well, you see, the duke, from the very
beginning knew that I was not Richard.”

She nodded in satisfaction, “I would have
warned Emma had she taken me into confidence. Nothing escapes my father.” She
shot him a scathing look and continued, “but how did that translate into our
engagement?”

“I told him that I was in your bedchamber
last night.”

“You did what!”

“He needed to know our whereabouts. I had
to be honest. He is, after all, trying to discover the murderer,” Lord Raikes
pleaded.

She clenched her fists, desperately wanting
to whack him on the head.

“It is a bit of a pickle,” he muttered
under his breath.

“Being engaged to me is a pickle?” she
asked, offended.

“No, I want to marry you but not like
this!”

“Humph, You do not look pleased with the
news, and I assure you, neither am I. Do not worry, I will cry off and release
you from this … this pickle, as you call it.”

“No, Catherine, please, I am happy, but I
was not sure of your feelings. I did not want to force this on you, and the
duke will not let you cry off. He has asked for a special license, and he wants
to see us married as soon as possible. I wanted to woo you, as is your right.”

“I did not give you leave to use my name,
My Lord,” she replied agitatedly.

“You are now my fiancé, soon to be my
bride. I have every right to use your name, Catherine.”

She glared at him in annoyance. She was
confused, a multitude of feelings racing through her. Her grief and the news of
her engagement had her feeling lost.

She searched his face, trying to find
answers to her questions. Her gaze lingered on his deep blue eyes fringed with
dark lashes and then travelled lower, stopping at his lips.
She blushed and looked away.

He took her chin and forced her to meet his
eyes.

“I am sorry that this happened. The murder,
the sudden betrothal, the charade, but I am not sorry that I am attracted to
you, care for you, or that inevitably we will be married, no matter what.”

She couldn’t help it. She smiled and he
bent to kiss it away.

***

The duke picked at his breakfast, choosing to
eat in the library rather than face the rest of the household. He was angry,
since no one except his daughter had felt any grief at the senseless death of
his sister. They were all pleased that she had been done away with.

Nutters was a coldly professional man and a
stranger. He saw the whole thing as a job. No one could share in his grief. He
did not think even his daughter felt the same despair as he did. He crumbled
his toast and frowned unhappily.

His sister had been blackmailing a number
of people, and he felt he was to blame. He had not provided enough for her,
observed any tension in her, or noticed her need for money.
She had chosen not to confide in him, which had led
to her gruesome death.

Was he so intimidating, he wondered?

His reverie was broken an hour later when
Nutters entered the room carrying a piece of paper.
He
had jotted down notes against each name.

The duke picked up the sheet of paper and
read the contents:

Emma

-No motive

-Her alibis are Pickering and the earl

-She was out of bed at the time of the
murder

Lord Richard Hamilton

-No motive

-His alibis are Pickering and Emma

-He was out of bed at the time of the
murder

Lord William Raikes

-No motive

-Alibi is Catherine

-Briefly out of bed at the time of the
murder

Prudence Barker

-Strong motive

-No alibi

-Out of bed at the time of the murder

Mrs Barker

-Has a motive

-Possibly last to see the victim alive

-Was in the room of the victim around
the time of the murder

Mr Barker

-Has a motive

-
Out of bed at the time of the murder

-No alibi

The duke glanced through the notes, and his
mouth pursed in distaste at the impersonal way Nutters had referred to his
sister as a victim.

He roughly pushed the paper away and rang
for Emma to join them.

“How is Catherine doing?” the duke asked
Emma as soon as she arrived.

“She is distressed, uncle, but that is to
be expected.”

“I understand you spent the night with the
earl.”

Emma blushed, though did not seem surprised
by the question. The earl must have warned her.

“We did not kill her,” she replied,
ignoring his question.

“I know you disliked her and are confused
as to why I kept her on as a chaperone to my daughter, when she was clearly
unsuitable. I will tell you in the evening when we all assemble together, since
I need to explain myself to everyone. I do not want to repeat myself.”

Emma did not say anything, and he read her
disapproval correctly.

“Emma, my daughter is distressed, and my
wife cannot cope in such circumstances. I am looking to you to help keep the
peace in this house. I want you to handle the household. Can you do that for
me?”

“I am at your disposal, Your Grace.”

“I want you to do this as my niece, not
because I, as a duke, command you. I am requesting you, and you can refuse.”

Emma softened her tone as she replied, “I
know, I will do my best by you.”

“Thank you,” he said gratefully.

She smiled at him before she left.

“Not much to add here,” Nutters commented.

“No, I know her well, and she is not
someone who would stab someone in the back. If she did kill someone, it would
be a knife in the stomach, with the person wide awake and aware of what was
coming.”

Nutters shivered uneasily and dipped his
quill in the ink and waited for the next person to arrive.

“Catherine, I am sorry, I know how upset
you are, but I want to get this over with as soon as possible,” the duke said,
handing her a cup of hot sweet coffee.

“It is alright father. I …,” her mouth
trembled, and she visibly forced herself to calm down before she continued, “I did
not like her, but I never hated her enough to kill her.”

“Yet you grieve?”

“I have spent a long time with her, more
hours than with anyone else, and I know she genuinely cared for me. My feelings
towards her have only changed recently, and part of it is because I wanted to
be young and meet people my own age. I had always been happy with my books,
until the last few years. I feel selfish now for disliking her for such a petty
reason. She held my hand when I ailed and soothed me if I cried. She had been like
a mother, I suppose. You may not like your mother, but you cannot help but love
her either.”

“Yet for three years she kept you
imprisoned within these walls. You knew part of the reason your season was
delayed was because she objected. She convinced me to keep you home. She
alienated all your friends. In the end, she made sure that you had no one to
turn to except her. It was a sort of obsessive, destructive love. The only one
who firmly stuck by you was Emma. She refused to be cowed by my sister.”

Catherine stared at her father’s harsh face
in shock. She had been unaware that he knew so much of what went on in her
mind. With her shock fading swiftly, she became angry.

“Why did you let her stay in this house?”
she demanded.

“I will tell you but not now. I want you to
answer me first.”

“Yes, I started hating her restrictions and
yours, but that does not mean I will murder you tomorrow. It was your fault
more than hers that I was in such a situation. You made her my chaperone, and you
knew her best. If there is anyone to blame, then it is
you
,” she sobbed.

“I agree,” he said sadly. He came around
and took her in his arms.

“Hush now, I am sorry for being so harsh. I
had to be sure. You may live with a person for years on end without knowing
them. I had never conceived the notion that my sister would one day resort to
blackmail. In anger, you spoke the truth, and that is all I wanted,” he
soothed.

“You believe me then, that I did not kill
her?”

The duke did not reply or meet her eyes.

She stared in disbelief at her father and
slowly stood. She barely curtsied before walking out of the room. She kept her
head high until she closed the door of the library.

The duke pulled the sheet with suspects
closer. He dipped his quill and wrote:

Catherine

-She had a motive

-Her
alibi is
Lord Raikes

-Out of bed at the time of the murder.

“You trust Emma and not your own daughter?”
Nutters enquired, baffled.

“Emma had to bear my sister’s company only
briefly during her visits. She thought of her as an odious woman, and her
presence did not affect her life, whereas Catherine lived with her every single
day and had more to gain from her death. She knew I would never let my sister
go. She was, after all, part of the family.”

BOOK: The Wicked Wager
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