Return Of Scandal's Son

‘What possible difference does my being unmarried make?’ Shame made her sharp with him.

‘It makes every difference. There are many reasons to kill or harm another. Were you married, the reasons someone might wish to kill you might be hatred, or possibly jealousy or passion. But now, with greed as part of the equation, it begins to make more sense. May I ask—who is your heir?’

‘My cousin, James Weare.’

‘Then he must be our prime suspect.’

‘James? Never!’

‘Greed has driven more than one to kill, my lady. The lure of a peerage, and the power and privilege it bestows, is more than enough, quite apart from any wealth that accompanies it.’

Eleanor was silent, weighing Matthew’s words against her knowledge of her cousin and his character. The fear that had plagued her at odd moments over the past few weeks returned to gnaw at her insides and she shuddered, thinking of that poor girl who had been hurt.

That could have been me. But...no! Not James. He couldn’t...not the James I know. It’s just too horrible. This is nonsense. It must be nonsense.

Eleanor looked at Aunt Lucy and Matthew, both wearing the same troubled expression, and bitter resentment bubbled up inside. How dare he come here and scare her like this, accusing her much-loved cousin of trying to kill her?

She sprang from the sofa to pace the room. ‘No, I will not believe it. James and I grew up together at Ashby—we were like brother and sister. It makes no sense. If he had wanted to kill me he could have done so with ease many times. I am convinced the fire and the accident were unrelated.’ She rounded on Matthew. ‘I will thank you, sir, to keep such wild accusations to yourself.’

Chapter Ten

Eleanor’s agitated pacing prompted Matthew to abandon the topic of her cousin’s likely guilt rather than antagonise her further.

The news she was unmarried was an unwelcome shock. He was not the kind of man to dally with innocents—although, eyeing her determined stance as the baroness challenged him, innocent hardly seemed an apt description. But also, to his surprise—and equally unwelcome—was a spurt of pleasure that she was unattached. All nonsense, of course. What on earth could he, a lowly merchant without even the backing of his family name, offer a wealthy baroness? His plans for the future were set. He would work hard to build up a successful business and then he would take the greatest satisfaction in repaying his father every last shilling of his debts. He would prove that the son so easily disowned had made a success of his life without his family’s backing.

That kiss, though... He clamped down his desire to taste Eleanor’s sweet lips again. Concentrate on the matter in hand, man...surely it’s serious enough to warrant your full attention without being waylaid by such thoughts.

‘You are in danger, my lady,’ he said. ‘That is a fact and, regardless of who might wish you ill, you must take all possible measures to ensure your safety until the culprit is found.’

‘Mr Thomas is right.’ Lady Rothley went to Eleanor, taking her hands. ‘Oh! It doesn’t bear thinking about. That could have been you attacked in your bed. You could have been murdered.’ Her voice quavered. ‘Please, Ellie, do not be stubborn. Surely you must see these happenings cannot all be coincidence? What do you suggest we do, Mr Thomas? Should we return to Ashby? Will that be safer than London?’

‘It might be the wisest move.’

Eleanor directed a scathing look at Matthew. ‘I’m sorry you are so troubled, Aunt, but I have no intention of returning to Ashby. Besides, Batley, if you remember, was concerned that the house cannot be made secure during the renovations, so we would be no safer there.’

‘Who is Batley?’

Eleanor scorched Matthew with an impatient glance. ‘He is my bailiff. No, we will not return to the Manor. We shall continue our journey to London. And that,’ she added, jabbing her finger in Matthew’s direction, ‘is not up for negotiation.’

Matthew bit back his instinctive retort. There was no point in quarrelling with Eleanor in the mood she was in. Never had he come across such an opinionated female.

‘I can see you are determined to have your way, Eleanor,’ Lady Rothley said, ‘so I shall not try to dissuade you. But I give you warning—unless you treat this seriously, we shall return to Ashby, whether you like it or not.’ At Eleanor’s mutinous look, she continued, ‘If I leave London, you will have no option other than to accompany me. You could not remain there unchaperoned. Think of the scandal.’

Eleanor visibly subsided. Her aunt’s emphasis on the word ‘scandal’ must have some particular meaning for her. Matthew wondered if she had been embroiled in some sort of scandal in the past. Was that why she was still unmarried?

Lady Rothley returned to the sofa. ‘What precautions would you advise us to take, Mr Thomas?’

‘The servants accompanying you must be put on the alert immediately, as must the whole of your household in town as soon as you arrive,’ Matthew said. ‘I will escort you for the remainder of your journey and your niece must take care never to go out unaccompanied. And by that—forgive me, Lady Rothley—I mean that she must take someone other than yourself for protection.’

He watched the conflicting emotions chase each other across Eleanor’s expressive countenance. He knew she was still mortified by their kiss, but that could not be the only reason she was so determined to hide her fears over the murder. Was it her reluctance to accept her cousin’s involvement?

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