Chapter 15

CHAPTER 15

C ooper didn’t sleep a wink, yet he had never woken more content.

Even with a murder accusation hanging over his head and soreness through his entire body, from falling all over the frozen pond to tumbling over Lord Northbridge.

Noelle had slept soundly in his arms the rest of the night, oblivious to his own inability to sleep, what with his need to comfort her, his urge to protect her, and his raging need for her. Need that didn’t appear to be going anywhere.

He was sure she would have been horrified if she had awoken to feel the evidence of his desire for her, though he kept his hips shifted back away from her. The feel of Noelle in his arms, in his bed, the soft cinnamon scent of her hair, the silk of her nightgown beneath his fingertips – it was all nearly too much. He hadn’t even touched her intimately, and he had already been close to coming in the bed behind her.

But if this was what she needed, he would do it.

It was his job to keep her safe and happy.

He had promised her father.

And now her, in his request to become her husband.

He still hadn’t fully grasped the ramifications of what he had proposed, but he had no time to think of that now – not when he could hear movement beyond his bedchamber door.

Cooper leaned down to wake Noelle, but seeing how soundly she was sleeping, he decided to try not to disturb her. He slid out of bed, silencing a groan at his protesting muscles, careful not to wake her, before opening his bedroom door a crack and peering out into the corridor. Whoever had walked by – likely a servant – seemed to have gone. He padded over to Noelle’s door, opening it wide before returning to his room.

He leaned over his bed and gathered Noelle in his arms, loving how she snuggled into him, tucking her head under his chin as she let out the smallest snores.

He smiled as he crossed the hallway and laid her in her own bed, taking a moment to stand and watch her in sleep – as though he hadn’t done enough of that already. She was so relaxed, so calm, so beautiful.

And now, she was his.

In a way.

He hated leaving her without him, wishing to be beside her when she woke.

But he supposed he would have plenty of time to do that once they were married.

This gave him an idea—one that might be rather inconvenient after what had occurred last night but might save their reputations and clear his name from any involvement in this murderous affair.

Cooper was a man who, once he made up his mind about something, preferred to take action quickly, before the impulse left him.

That was why he was nearly bouncing in impatience when he saw Noelle – an awake Noelle – later that morning.

Unfortunately, the rest of the guests were also in attendance, gathered around the breakfast table. It wasn’t silent by any means, but everyone spoke in low murmurs, as though speaking aloud would wake the dead or cause the speaker to become a subject of suspicion.

Cooper sat next to Noelle, her father on her other side. Cooper leaned down and squeezed her hand, earning him a small smile.

“Thank you,” she said quietly, lifting her cup of tea to plush, red lips. Lips that he would very much like to taste once more.

“For what?”

“For allowing me to stay with you last night. For providing me with the comfort I needed. I feel much more refreshed this morning.”

“I’m glad of it. And I’m happy to do it. In fact, Noelle,” he began, needing to tell her of his plan, but he was interrupted when Lord and Lady Burton entered the room. Lady Burton appeared rather pale and peaked but determined to continue this party.

“I apologize to everyone for what occurred last night,” she said. “Lord Burton has promised me that we will quickly deal with this matter and then return to our festivities. In the meantime, we will continue to enjoy the food, décor, and all that can provide comfort in this trying time. As you can imagine, Lady Jennifer has declined to join us today.”

“We have all been asked to remain at the estate,” Lord Burton added, focusing on the guests in front of him, causing him not to notice the new presence in the room, a man who walked up and stood behind him.

The newcomer possessed an air of authority. He was much taller than Lord Burton, thin, and with a pinched face. His gaze wandered around the room, landing on each of them suspiciously.

Lord Burton finally noted the direction of the gazes of the assembled breakfasters and turned around, starting when he realized they were no longer alone.

“I would like to introduce the coroner, Mr. Briggs,” Lord Burton said, backing up a step. “He arrived this morning and has already examined the bod— Lord Northbridge. He would like to ask us all a few questions.”

“That will not be necessary today,” Mr. Briggs said, holding up a finger in the air. “We shall do that at the formal inquest, which will be held in Gulliver’s Tavern.”

A low murmur started up among the guests at that news until Lord Burton turned to him with a pained expression. “Mr. Briggs, I was under the impression that we would keep this… quiet.”

“According to whom?”

“Well,” Lord Burton drew himself up to his full height, although he still didn’t come much higher than Mr. Briggs’s nose. “Me. I am the lord of this area, and I would prefer that this didn’t cause much gossip among the inhabitants and the ton beyond. We would happily cooperate in any way possible, but perhaps we could do so without a formal inquiry.”

Mr. Briggs looked down his nose at him, sniffing as he obviously couldn’t voice what he was honestly thinking. “There will be an inquiry one way or the other,” he said. “But perhaps we could do it here instead of at the tavern. We would still need a jury to attend. They will determine just whether or not this is murder and the magistrate will decide whether we can determine a suspect. If so, the suspect will be tried at the assize – or the House of Lords – but not until after the holiday season.”

Lord Burton did not seem particularly pleased, but he did seem to realize this was the best offer he would receive. Lady Burton, meanwhile, turned rather pale, and Hattie rose, urging her mother into a chair while fanning her face.

“Very well,” Lord Burton sighed, waving a hand. “If that is what must be done.”

“We will summon the jury for tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow!”

“Yes. This must be dealt with quickly. You did say you wanted to take care of it before Christmas, did you not?”

“I did,” Lord Burton sighed again. “I most certainly did. Very well.”

He clasped his hands together and looked over the assembled group. Cooper noted the mistletoe mockingly hanging low over his head. “We will reconvene this afternoon as we will search for a yule log. Take the next few hours to do as you wish.”

The guests stood, looking at one another in bewilderment. Lady Hattie’s eyes were red as she sat across from Noelle, wringing a handkerchief between her hands.

“This is all so unbelievable,” she said, speaking to Noelle as Cooper met the eyes of Lord Rochester behind her, who seemed ready to soothe her. “In my own home?”

“Hard to believe something like this could happen, especially at Christmas,” Lord Rochester said as the branches of the Christmas tree behind him poked him in the shoulder as though to emphasize his words. “Who would have it out for Northbridge?”

As he said it, the air crackled with tension, Rochester realizing belatedly just what he had said and how that could be insinuated.

“I know the two of you weren’t on best of terms, Hartwell, but it seems it wasn’t you, now, was it?” Lord Rochester wore his usual grin, but it wasn’t as friendly as before. Cooper realized that this was likely what to expect in the future. No one could outright accuse him of anything, but he was the outsider here. They would protect their own.

“It was not,” Cooper said from behind his smile. “I may be ruthless in business, but I do not deal with violence.”

“Of course not,” Lord Rochester agreed with a disbelieving smile as Noelle and Hattie watched the exchange with wide eyes.

“Who do you think did it?” Lady Lucy asked, leaning forward as they all stared at each other suspiciously.

“I do not believe it was someone from this group,” Lady Hattie said, shaking her head. “How could it be? None of us would ever do such a thing to Lord Northbridge. It could have been someone who traveled here to the estate. Or perhaps even a servant, although ours are all loyal to us.”

“I’m sure the coroner or the magistrate will determine whether anyone traveled here yesterday,” Cooper said, wishing to break up this conversation. “They would be able to check for tracks at the lake.”

He was beginning to question just how competent the local authorities might be. They had spoken about solving this before Christmas for Lord Burton’s sake, but Cooper felt that those investigating, to say nothing of the jury, would prefer to return to their own families for Christmas.

Perhaps he would have to take this matter into his own hands, or he just might receive a murder charge for Christmas.

“Noelle,” he said, turning to her and ignoring the rest of the table. “Would you like to go for a walk?”

“It is cold today,” she said before looking into his eyes and reading that he had hidden intention behind his question. “But yes, fresh air would be lovely.”

They gathered their outdoor wear, although Noelle still shivered when they stepped out of doors. The sky was gray today, and while no snow had yet appeared, it was threatening.

“If it snows, do you suppose that anyone will be able to travel to the estate?” she asked, and Cooper shrugged, the thought not having occurred to him.

“I do not suppose that is much our concern, now, is it?”

Noelle stared at him, brows drawn together as though trying to assess what he meant by it when she noticed where they were.

“Cooper, why are we here?”

Here, being the site of the murder. The body had been removed, although an imprint in the ground remained, the dry brown grass indented where Lord Northbridge had lain.

“The area is not exactly preserved, what with the number of people who came outside last night,” he murmured as he walked around, trying to find what he was looking for.

“You haven’t answered me.”

He looked up at her. “I have a feeling that this might not end well for me. You heard Lady Hattie. They cannot imagine anyone doing this. Anyone from their own circle. That leaves me.”

“But I was with you. I will tell the jury that.”

“I know. But to be on the safe side, I thought I might see what I could figure out myself.”

He crouched low to the ground, searching through the grass, triumphantly pointing out the evidence.

“It’s here.”

“What is?”

“Look closely. Do you see the small pieces of metal on the ground?”

She crouched beside him, leaning on his thigh to help her balance.

“Yes, I do.”

“After a percussion cap pistol is fired, the small copper or brass percussion cap that ignites the gunpowder ruptures. It can leave these little metal pieces behind. They can be cleaned up, but it would be difficult without time and in the dark.”

“What does that mean?”

“It means that we know what kind of gun we are looking for,” he said grimly. “I am assuming there is also a bullet inside of Lord Northbridge that could determine which gun was used.”

Noelle grimaced. “That is gruesome.”

Cooper suddenly felt a boor for discussing this in such detail with her. “I should apologize. You likely have no wish to speak of this, and here I am, going on about it?—”

She placed a hand on his. “It’s fine. I can handle it.”

“Sometimes I forget that you are a lady, and this is not the kind of talk for a woman like you.”

“Cooper. I am not your typical lady. That, I can promise you. If I can help you determine the truth, I am happy to do so.”

“Very well. I do appreciate that. I will suggest to the coroner that he look for this later. We must determine if anyone has access to such a weapon.” He took her arm, leading her away from the scene. “But that is not the only reason I wanted to have you alone.”

“No?” she said, arching her brow.

All of the other things he would like to do with her alone ran through his mind. “Have you thought any more about getting married?”

“That is not exactly something that slips one’s mind.”

“This might seem hasty, but I have been thinking… maybe we should get married sooner rather than later.”

She tilted her head, her nose, which had become rosy with the cold, crinkling deliciously as a curl fell out from her knit cap.

“How soon are you thinking?”

“Christmas Eve.”

Her lips parted. Her eyes widened.

And then she laughed.