Chapter Twenty-Six

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

LEVI OVERTON, DUKE OF LENNOX

One hour prior…

L evi paced the study, driven by a nagging sensation that something was terribly wrong. He hadn't seen Miss Braddock since Mrs. Creasey accused her of murdering Miss Drummond. Then Mr. Drummond appeared, and Levi lost Miss Braddock among the crowd.

It was as if she'd evaporated into the air.

He tugged at his cravat, swallowing the mound of sand gathering in his throat.

"How much longer do you expect Mr. Drummond to keep us waiting?"

Quill in hand, Mr. Hughes glanced up from the desk. "He requested five minutes to process his grief for the loss of his sister. We can allow that."

"It's been ten," Levi muttered, walking to the open study door and peering around the side at the men carting Miss Drummond's corpse toward a waiting bier.

Mr. Hughes flung down his quill, smudging his notes. "Have you no compassion?"

"For the man who caused my fiancée to flee her brother's home and hide her identity in search of safety?" Levi twisted around. "Not a drop."

"She's afraid of him?" Mr. Hughes asked, collecting his quill and dipping it into the ink pot.

"Terrified." Levi strode toward the desk. "Her brother arranged the match. However, he couldn't end it for fear Miss Braddock would be arrested for theft."

"Theft? What did she steal?"

My father's ring. My heart. My soul.

"Mr. Drummond refused her attempt to return a family ring. When he made it clear that he'd never end their connection, she sold the ring and ran." Levi dragged a hand through his hair. "I'll pay the cost, whatever he claims it to be, to free her from that obligation."

"I'm certain Mr. Braddock will confirm your story," said Mr. Hughes. "However, the word of an admitted murderer won't hold much weight."

Levi slapped his hand—and the piece of lace—on the desk. "He didn't kill Miss Drummond."

"What's this?" Mr. Hughes poked the lace with the tip of his quill.

"I discovered it on the second-floor landing near the banister."

"The location from where Miss Drummond fell." His tongue trapped between his teeth, Mr. Hughes picked up the scrap. "And you assume this belonged to the person—woman—who pushed her… Why didn't you share this earlier? It would have prevented Mr. Braddock from visiting prison this evening."

"Mr. Braddock feared he knew the identity of Miss Drummond's killer… his sister." Levi sat in a chair in front of the desk and leaned forward. "Miss Drummond demanded money and jewelry from Miss Braddock in exchange for not informing her brother where to find his missing fiancée."

"Jewelry?" Mr. Hughes tilted his head. "Such as watch fobs."

Intelligent. One of the reasons Mr. Hughes had held the position of parish constable for more than twenty years.

Levi nodded. "Exactly that kind."

"Hmm… I hear a motive."

"Eveline didn't kill Miss Drummond."

Mr. Hughes' eyebrows lifted. "Do you have evidence of this statement?"

"No." He hated admitting the fact. "However, the woman whose gown matches that lace is still in this house. We can speak with Miss Braddock and discount her first."

"Your Grace!" Miss Sinclair darted through the doorway, her wide brown eyes frantically searching the study for him.

"Miss Sinclair?" Levi rose, the nagging sensation spiking. "Has something occurred?"

"I'm concerned about Miss Braddock." Tightening her shawl, she hurried across the floor. "About ten minutes ago, I left her in the hallway with a man who seemed to cause her great fear."

Levi exchanged a look with Mr. Hughes. "Did the man have dark hair and a large stature?"

Please say no.

"Yes! Do you know him?"

Dear Lord. He already had her.

Levi's heart stopped. "That was Humphrey Drummond, Miss Drummond's brother."

"Oh!" Miss Sinclair's hands flew to her mouth, and she paled significantly. "There was a bruise on Miss Braddock's cheek. Do you think he blamed her for his sister's death and caused that injury?"

Mr. Hughes pushed back his chair and stood. "Where were they heading?"

"Toward the kitchen." Miss Sinclair pointed with a trembling finger.

Levi bowed to her, and he and Mr. Hughes exited the study at the same moment, crashing into Roxburghe, who spun Miss Webb away from the collision at the last possible moment.

He glared at them. "The last time I saw the two of you together, you arrested my fiancée."

"Mr. Braddock didn't kill Miss Drummond," Levi said, edging down the corridor toward the kitchen. "He lied."

Roxburghe, his arm still wrapped around Miss Webb, followed. "And who did he lie to protect?"

"My fiancée," Levi muttered, glancing into the library as he passed the open doorway.

Miss Webb frowned. "Miss Braddock was by my side in the ballroom for the whole of an hour prior to the discovery of Miss Drummond."

"Will you swear to that?" Mr. Hughes asked from behind Levi.

"Certainly." She slowed her pace. "Innocent people don't belong in prison."

"We need your assistance, Miss Webb." Mr. Hughes stopped and pulled out the piece of torn lace. "We need to discover the true culprit to hasten Mr. Braddock's release. If you would examine the ladies' gowns for the matching fabric, we'll know who killed Miss Drummond."

"And those that don't match?" Roxburghe asked, his eyes flicking between Levi and Mr. Hughes.

"Dismiss them," Mr. Hughes said as he and Levi entered the kitchen.

With Levi in the lead, they hurried across the hard floor to a small door leading to the exterior of the house. He opened the door and swore. Two sets of partially covered footprints, one larger than the other, led away from the house.

Levi swore. "He's got a ten-minute lead on us."

"I'm aware," Mr. Hughes ground out.

Wrapping his arms around his torso, Levi struck out across the frozen terrain. About thirty meters from the house, strange impressions in the snow appeared as though Miss Braddock and Mr. Drummond had stopped to make violent snow angels. A small set of footprints, followed by larger ones, lead away from the deep indentations toward the garden.

"I'd surmise she kicked him," Mr. Hughes said, trudging around Levi toward the stone archway.

They followed the footprints into the garden, walking in a complete circle, and stopped under the arch.

"Why would she run in a loop?" Mr. Hughes frowned. "Was he chasing her?"

Levi crouched, studying one of the footprints, and realized the snow held a double imprint.

"He was hunting her." Levi pointed at the raised portion of the footprint. "She ran in a circle, then walked backward until she could hide. Look."

He pointed to the large footprints, which stopped beneath the stone entrance.

"Mr. Drummond didn't search the garden. He gave up and headed toward the house, and her footprints,"—Levi indicated the smaller prints—"aren't connected to his anymore. She escaped."

He knew where she was heading, but he didn't know if he'd arrive before she departed from her house.

Mr. Hughes and Levi slogged through the snow, Mr. Hughes following Mr. Drummond's footprints and Levi following Miss Braddock's. When they reached the street, Mr. Hughes stopped and turned toward Levi.

"Your Grace," he said, folding his arms across his chest and shivering, "if I discover Mr. Drummond inside, what would you like me to do?"

"Detain him for an hour," Levi replied, his visible breath floating above his head. "Once Miss Braddock is safely transported to my lodgings, he'll not have another opportunity to harm her again."

Nodding, Mr. Hughes turned to his left, and Levi turned right, heading down the street toward his coach.

"Follow those footprints," Levi said, climbing onto the driver's bench.

"Your Grace, it's snowing," Mr. Spencer said, jerking his head toward the coach. "Would you not be more comfortable inside?"

Shaking his head, Levi stuffed his hands under his arms. "My fiancée is walking in this weather. I can ride outside the coach until I find her."

"As you wish, Your Grace." Mr. Spencer lifted his whip and cracked it over the back of the two-horse team. "Do you suppose they're leading toward her house?"

"That's my suspicion," Levi replied, his eyes on the snow-covered pavement. "However, I'm not assuming that's where these tracks lead."

The soft snowflakes obscured his vision and the trail. He squinted at the moonlit street, struggling to discern Miss Braddock's footprints, and instructed Mr. Spencer to slow the coach.

"I may need to walk," he murmured, glancing at Mr. Spencer. "I can't see the tracks anymore."

"Perhaps we've passed her." Mr. Spencer twisted on the bench, his gaze sliding across the darkened road behind them. "Do you want to turn around?"

Exhaling a breath that froze to his lips, Levi nodded.

Mr. Spencer turned left at the corner and swung the whip, encouraging the horses into a gallop. He chuckled when Levi grabbed onto the bench with both hands.

"It's a little different riding up top, Your Grace."

"You'll not convince me to change my mind," Levi replied, bracing himself as the carriage rounded the second corner.

"And that is solely the reason I accepted this position." The corner of Mr. Spencer's mouth pulled into a wry grin. "You're the only employer I've ever met who treats men of title and servants exactly the same."

"I can't imagine that you've been introduced to many gentlemen," Levi said as they made the third turn.

Mr. Spencer inclined his head. "I have not."

"Drive slow," Levi said, squinting at the ground. "This is where I lost the tracks."

Slowing the horses, Mr. Spencer craned his head, staring at the fresh layer of snow. "Do you see them?"

"Not anymore." He rubbed his hand over his face.

"We'll find her, Your Grace." Mr. Spencer swung the whip, encouraging the horses to increase their pace. "You said that you knew where she was heading."

"Toward her house." Levi indicated the direction with his chin.

"Then, I suggest we start from there and work backward to Mr. Venning's house. Perhaps we'll discover her."

Having no other suggestion, Levi reluctantly agreed, hoping Miss Braddock's industrious mind managed to transport her to her lodgings without any issue.

What if she'd already departed, fearing no one could protect her?

The heart-shattering thought ricocheted through his brain.

"Faster," he murmured, his fingers wrapping around the driver's bench.

Mr. Spencer made no comment. He merely extracted the whip from its holder and swung the leather strap over the horses' backs. The coach careened around the corner, speeding down the lane behind Miss Braddock's street. Houses whipped past them, blurring into various shades of gray.

They took the next corner too quickly, and the coach slid sideways across the slick street. Wedging his feet beneath the bench, Mr. Spencer grabbed Levi's jacket and leaned to the left, pulling Levi with him as the side of the carriage smashed into an oak tree.

Ripped from Mr. Spencer's hand, Levi flew through the air and crashed to the ground, knocking the breath from his lungs. Unable to move, he stared at the starlit sky, mesmerized by the lights swirling above his head.

"Your Grace!" Mr. Spencer vaulted off the driver's bench, grunting as he landed beside Levi.

Mr. Spencer lifted Levi into a sitting position, yanked a handkerchief from his pocket, and pressed the cloth to Levi's forehead.

"Should the injury concern me?" Levi's body throbbed.

Removing the handkerchief, Mr. Spencer inspected the gash, then shook his head. "I've seen worse. Thankfully, you landed in the snow."

He helped Levi to his feet, turned toward the coach, and issued a low curse. Lodged in a gap between the cobblestones, the front carriage wheel tilted outward at an unnatural angle.

"The axel's broken." Mr. Spencer pointed at a metal rod sticking through the wheel's spokes.

"Can you repair it?" Levi asked, wincing as he pushed the handkerchief against the laceration.

"Not without assistance."

Grabbing onto the harness, Mr. Spencer yanked the reins toward his chest, causing the horse to step backward. Then he unfastened the first strap, his fingers slipping on the buckle.

Levi's eyes shifted to the road leading toward Miss Braddock's house. "You'll forgive me for not waiting with you while you detach the team."

"Certainly, Your Grace." He paused as though contemplating a weighty decision.

Then, Mr. Spencer leaned across the driver's bench, shoved his hand beneath a folded wool blanket, and extracted a double-barrel pistol, which he passed to Levi.

"Concerned for my well-being?" Levi asked, inspecting the muzzle.

"I never transport you without a weapon," Mr. Spencer replied with a shrug. "As I won't be with you for the remainder of your journey, that gun will provide the necessary protection."

Mr. Spencer deserved a raise in his pay.

"Your Grace," Mr. Spencer said, his eyes returning to the harness, "every moment you delay with me increases your chances of missing Miss Braddock at her residence."

"Tomorrow afternoon, come speak with me in my study," Levi said, clapping Mr. Spencer on his back.

He strode around the horses as they impatiently pawed the snow, then hurried across the lane, heading for Miss Braddock's street. As he turned the corner, a horrific scream rippled through the frigid night air, stopping his heart.

Eveline!

Clutching the pistol, Levi ran down the pavement, praying he didn't arrive too late. The iron fence surrounding Miss Braddock's property appeared but seemed to move farther and farther away with each step he took.

His lungs shrieked in protest, but he forced his body forward, ignoring the pain radiating from his forehead and his side, and dragged his sleeve across his face, stopping blood from dripping into his eyes.

When he—finally—reached the first spire of the iron fence, his gaze slid over the darkened house. However, it didn't appear as though anyone was at the residence. Frowning, he slowed his pace.

A scuffle in the garden drew his attention. Dropping his eyes, Levi swallowed a curse.

Miss Braddock, immobile and halfway buried in the snow, lay beneath Mr. Drummond, whose hands tore at her dress, ripping the bodice in a frantic effort to remove the garment.

Snarling, Levi lowered his shoulder and charged through the opening, striking Mr. Drummond in the chest and sending him flying backward. Mr. Drummond smashed into the hard ground, his head lolling to the side.

"Miss Braddock?" Levi dropped beside her and lifted her torso, brushing the snow from her hair.

She didn't open her eyes.

He ripped his jacket from his shoulders, covered Miss Braddock's torso, and lifted her, pressing his lips to the dark purple bruise highlighting her cheek.

Mr. Drummond groaned.

Eyes narrowing, Levi gently placed Miss Braddock on a stone bench, folding her arms over her chest, and turned, pointing the pistol at Mr. Drummond's heart—or where it would be if the man possessed one.

"We have a grievance to settle," Levi said, striding toward him.

"I didn't touch her." Mr. Drummond scuttled backward until a thorny bush stopped his progress.

Levi raised his eyebrows. "The bruising suggests otherwise."

"Can we discuss this like gentlemen?" Mr. Drummond lifted his hands into a defensive position.

"I gave you that opportunity." He pulled back both hammers on the pistol. "You kidnapped my fiancée."

"She is my fiancée."

Levi extended his arm. "Would you care to revise your statement?"

Mr. Drummond's gaze dropped to the muzzle. "Would you consider a challenge?"

"Such as?"

"Fisticuffs." Mr. Drummond lowered his arms and slowly climbed to his feet. "If I lose, I'll leave Wiltshire tonight and never think on Miss Braddock again. However, if I win, Eveline is mine to do with as I please."

"I accept your terms." Releasing the hammers, Levi lowered the pistol to his side.

When he turned to set the gun on the ground, Mr. Drummond lunged and swung his fist, catching Levi in the temple. Staggering sideways, Levi dropped the pistol and spun, raising his arms as Mr. Drummond advanced.

He dodged Mr. Drummond's second blow, ducking his head at the last moment and circling to the left, then he snapped his right arm out, striking Mr. Drummond's nose and breaking the appendage.

Howling, Mr. Drummond fell to his knees and crawled toward the house. He wheezed and sprayed crimson across the snow, then collapsed.

When Levi approached Mr. Drummond's bent form, the man scraped his fingers across the ground, gathering muck and slush, then spun and flung the grimy mixture into Levi's face. Blinded, Levi stumbled backward, scrubbing his eyes with the sleeve of his shirt.

Mr. Drummond launched himself at Levi, catching him around the waist and driving him into the thorny bush. Climbing onto Levi's legs, Mr. Drummond pinned him to the icy ground, then rained down a multitude of blows, nearly beating Levi unconscious.

After wiping his blood-stained knuckles on Levi's shirt, Mr. Drummond stood, straightened his jacket, and strode to Miss Braddock's immobile form. He bent, his mouth a breath from hers. However, before he could kiss her, Levi staggered to his feet and lurched toward Mr. Drummond.

"Get away from her," Levi slurred, agony shooting through his jaw.

Straightening, Mr. Drummond shoved up his sleeves. "You don't know when you're beat."

"If it takes my last breath," Levi said, raising his arms again, "I'll ensure you never touch Miss Braddock again."

They circled each other.

"I've never killed a duke before," Mr. Drummond said, baring his teeth. "However, I'm quite certain that unless I do, you won't allow me to depart with what is rightfully mine."

"You assume correctly," Levi replied, his right fist snapping out again and catching the side of Mr. Drummond's face.

Miss Braddock moaned, drawing Levi's attention. Mr. Drummond, using that distraction, struck Levi with enough force to send him flying over the stone bench. Levi crashed to the ground, landing on his side, and rolled onto his back with a low moan. Before he could gain his bearings, Mr. Drummond leaped over the bench and landed on top of him.

Mr. Drummond's left hand wedged itself under Levi's throat, cutting off the flow of oxygen. Levi grabbed Mr. Drummond's fingers, but he couldn't peel the viselike grip from his windpipe. Blackness clouded the edges of Levi's vision.

A dark grin flitted across Mr. Drummond's face. He reached down with his right hand, collected a stone from the garden, and raised the rock above his head.

"As I previously explained, Eveline belongs to me, and there's nothing you can do to prevent the punishment I will exact on her for forcing me to collect her from Wiltshire." He adjusted his grip on the rock. "At least, after your death, her suffering will no longer concern you."

As Levi lost consciousness, the soft click of the pistol caused Mr. Drummond to freeze.