Chapter 20

The Revelation

Martin and Frank were sitting in the study when there was a knock at the front door. Martin walked to the front door. "What the hell has happened? You scared me to death." Fred walked in and took Martin by the shoulders.

"It's Muriel. She has been missing since Saturday around ten-thirty in the morning."

"What? How? Why?"

"Crumb – he took her."

"Wait a minute. I'm confused." Fred's eyes were as big as sand dollars.

"Come in here. Frank is with me. I will tell you the whole thing." Martin told Fred all the information they had been able to collect.

"You are right, Martin. It was Crumb. You can beat him to death and I will be your second."

As the three of them were talking, they heard someone coming in through the kitchen. Martin jumped up. He had prayed it was Muriel. As he went around the corner, he saw Jimmy.

"Damn, Jimmy, what took you so long? You have been gone for hours."

"Yes, my lord. May I sit down – what room are you in?"

"Mr. Stewart, Lord Windham, and I are all in the study."

Jimmy looked completely drained. "My lord, if you would beg my pardon, I really need a drink."

Martin was studying Jimmy, trying to discern if he was tired, upset, or shaken. Whatever it was, he was not going to deny the man a drink. "There is scotch or brandy."

"I will have a tall glass of scotch, my lord." Martin found a scotch bottle in the desk drawer, then took a glass off the salver.

"Fill it, please, my lord." Jimmy drank it down in one big gulp. "I need to tell you."

"Jimmy, what the hell happened?" Martin was getting more concerned by the second. It finally dawned on him that Jimmy might be emotionally upset because Muriel… No, no, no. ‘Tis not Muriel. I know ‘tis not Muriel. "Jimmy, ‘tis not Muriel."

"No, my lord. It is not Lady Muriel." He looked around. "May I sit down'?"

"Yes, Jimmy, bring that chair over and join us. And please, hurry up and tell us what you found out."

"Yes, my lord. Well, I got to the man's townhouse, told the butler that I came representing you, Lord Claymont. I told the old arse that it was urgent that I speak with him. The butler left me on the front step and I waited. I was beginning to think he wasn't goin' see me. I was ready to storm the house, when Lord Crumb came to the door. I asked him if his son had been home in the last three days. It was then he asked me to come in. Led me to the drawing room. Wanted to know why I was askin,' so I told him about the bookstore and his son's description. Lady Muriel was there, then he left with her and we hadn't seen her since. I started feelin' sorry for the ole man. He ran both his hands through his hair. He said the boy had been nothin' but problems since he was in his teens. He was askin' questions –"

"Jimmy." Martin asserted. "Had he seen Michael?" Martin was losing patience.

"Finally, we got to that. I wasn't goin' to push him for fear he'd throw me out. Anyway, he was real upset. Thought he should come and talk to you and see if he could help. I really didn't think that was a good idea. I figured you'd kill him before he was able to explain. So I sat with him, hopin' he might be able to tell me about the coach, the coachman – anything. Well, I'd been there a long time when the butler came in. Said somebody from Bow Street was there to see him. I asked him if I could stay. If it was about Lady Muriel, I wanted to be there. Anyway, Sir John Fielding showed up himself. He told Lord Crumb he had bad news. It was reported that one Michael Crumb was found dead, in the Lion Coaching Inn, off the Great North Road, in Huntingdon. Murdered. Stabbed to death."

"Oh, my God. Jimmy, was it Muriel. Did she do it? Did they find her?" Martin's head was a maelstrom. "Tell me something, now, Jimmy."

"No, my lord. They thought it was not the lady. They found her muff and her reticule in the chamber. No one knows what happened to her." Jimmy started weeping. He had been strong this whole time. Now that he was finally home, he could not restrain himself. "This is all my fault, my lord." He sobbed.

"No, Jimmy. It is not your fault. Not at all. Now think. Did Sir John say anything else."

"Yes, yes, he did." He wiped off his face with his shirt sleeve. Martin reached in the drawer and handed him a kerchief. "I asked if he spoke with the coachman. He had. They found ether in the cabin of the coach Crumb and Lady Muriel were in. Oh, and the coachman said that a man rode into the coach yard. A dirty-looking, bulky man got out and the coachman turned the coach around. Then the coachman that had been hired by Crumb fell asleep. The other thing the coachman said was Crumb had told him they were eloping. They were going to Gretna Green. He told the magistrate there that he had decided to go into Crumb's bedchamber early to get Lady Muriel and bring her home. He went into the room, quietly, looked around, and Muriel was gone. Then he saw Crumb. Dead. Murdered."

The three gentlemen in the study were dumb struck. There were no words in the room for minutes. Martin was unraveling. Suddenly. "Muriel!" He cried out. Fred got up and walked over to him. He put his hands on Martin's shoulders.

"Martin, we will find her. We will." Fred was speaking softly, endearingly. He handed Martin his kerchief. Martin kept his head down and wiped his eyes.

"We need more kerchiefs." He tried to give a small chuckle as he was choking down his true emotions. "Thank you, Fred. I'm together now. I apologize for –"

"Hey, my friend. Don't apologize. I'm upset myself and she is not my betrothed."

"She is not mine either. She never accepted." He was looking at Frank, yet his question seemed to be directed to Fred. "What will I do? If anything has happened to her, I feel I could not live without her."

"Martin, you love her. That is understandable."

"Yes, yes . I do." He looked at Jimmy. "Jimmy, could you go get three more glasses and another bottle of scotch and bring them here."

"Yes, my lord. Right away."

"Martin, I'm unsure where to go with this next. I hate to say it, I'm sure you have already surmised that the person that has her now is –"

"Please, not yet. Please don't say it yet."

"I understand, Martin." Frank did understand. He had an affection for Muriel himself. She was not of this world.

Carl came running into the room. "My lord, Lord Blackwood is here. He said it is urgent." "Bring him in. Don't leave him waiting. Now!"

Carl ran to the front and brought Lord Blackwood into the study.

"Martin, we have no time. This is bad. I finally spoke with Lord Ackroyd. He knew Trenchmouth. Did some research work for him. He came to work one day and said he had to resign. He had been hired by someone to work for him, exclusively. When Ackroyd asked who the client was, he told Ackroyd it was Aubyn. He said that Aubyn had recommended Trenchmouth to Curtis. Martin, it is Aubyn. It has been. All this time. I have known him for decades. It was like the wind was knocked out of me." Poor Blackwood was visibly shaking.

"No, it could not be. I sat across from him and the three of us talked in-depth about all this."

"First, I thought it odd. He kept telling Marie he would pay the ransom. I thought about our conversations at Venus . Then I remembered he told you repeatedly to wait. Do you remember?

"Oh, my God. Martin, you told me that. You even considered his words. Remember?" Fred remembered that as well.

"Martin, something else. The week after Marie arrived in Town, I noticed he had been speaking with a man known to own properties in the rookery. I asked him what the hell he was doing speaking with him. He nonchalantly responded that he had been thinking about buying a warehouse over there. I said, ‘what the hell for?' and he said he was investing in his future. What the hell. How long had he been planning this?"

"Who is the man Aubyn was speaking with?" Frank would track him down.

"God, I know it. I know his name. I'm completely rattled by all this. I still find it hard to believe."

"Think, Blackwood." Frank felt they were running out of time. He certainly would not say that out loud.

"I have it. It's Bentinck. That is it! Bentinck. I have no idea where he lives or if he even has an office."

"I know him." Frank stood, ready to get to this man. "I know where to find him. If he is the one that sold the property to Aubyn, I can go directly there. I will get my men and go there." Frank was ready to recruit his men.

"No, we have no time for that. Fred and I will go with you. Fred, have you been carrying your pistol?"

"Usually, I failed to bring it. Remember, I was delivered here."

"Frank, you have a pistol?"

"Always."

"Let me go to my townhouse. You both should ride with me. We can go from there."

"I know I'm an older man, but I feel very strongly that I, at the very least, should accompany you."

"We understand. Yes, come. We may need you. You are not that old!" Fred responded for Martin.

"And I will go. I'm not asking for permission, my Lord." Carl was strongly adamant.

"And me too." Jimmy stood.

"Well, two coaches. Carl and Jimmy in the McDonnell coach. Lord Blackwood, you can ride with us."

"We are wasting time. We need to go, now." Martin was filled with nervous tension. His silent plea continued. Please let her be alright. Please let her be alright.

Harry finally returned from his visit with the ‘stupid bastard.' "Chris, have you checked on that woman?"

"Yes, I went up there, bout an hour ago. She was really cold so I put a couple of logs on the fire for her. She has been sleepy. She has been worried bout what's gonna happen to her. She's real nice, Harry. You ain't gonna hurt her are ya'?"

"I haven't decided yet. I got us some more money today. Stupid bastard says he'll pay us more when he gets what he wants. I don't know how long that's gonna take. And the longer we hold her, the more dangerous it is for us. And don't forget, Chris, she's seen us. We will hang for this if we're caught."

"I don't think she'd turn us in. Like I said, she's really nice, Harry. "

"I don't give a bloody damn. Aubyn was supposed to send a ransom note. He hasn't even done it yet. That makes me very suspicious. Like he might try to be a hero. You know what I mean?"

"I don't know the man. This is the first time you even said his name. You set this up." Christopher had no idea who the person was, not until this very minute. "How'd you find him?"

"He found me. Came lookin' for me. Said something about somebody from the rookery givin' him my name."

I think I'm gonna take a piss, then go up there and figure out what I wanna do with her.

"I told her you wouldn't hurt her." His voice almost had tremors. He was wringing his hands. He couldn't let him hurt her.

"Ya' shouldn't have." He laughed some kind of sinister laugh as he walked off.

Two coaches were flying through the Town. Frank was with Martin's coachman, Walter, to provide directions. Jimmy and Carl were in the coachman's seat following behind. Walter stopped in front of No. 88 Whitechapel High Street. The coach had hardly come to a stop when Martin lunged out and charged the front door. By the time Fred and Frank made it in there, Martin had the man up by the collar, out of his chair with his feet barely touching the floor. "Give me the name of the warehouse you sold to Aubyn, NOW, or so help me God, I will end you right here."

"What is this all about?" He insisted, rather nervously.

"I said the warehouse. Name? Street? Number?. I shan't ask you again." Martin had fire in his eyes. Frank and Fred feared he very well might kill the man .

"Martin, wait until he tells you where the warehouse is located before you kill him, please." Fred pleaded, barely touching Martin on his shoulder. "Bentinck, you better tell him now. He will kill you. Then, we will ransack the office until we find the address." Fred looked the man in the face. Martin would do it.

"Alright, alright. It's No. 80 Wapping High Street." With that, Martin kneed him, gave him a full fist to the face, then hit him as hard in his middle before Martin finally let him fall.

"And if you lied to me, I will come back here and kill you. I promise you that, you bastard." Martin led them back into the coach. "We need to get to Wapping."

He shouted to Walter. "80 Wapping High Street. Frank, do you know where that is?"

"I do." He answered as he climbed up to join Walter on the coachman's seat.

"What are you gonna do to her, Harry?" Christopher called out as Harry started up the stairs. "I haven't decided quite yet. I'm not in the best of moods, so who knows. I'm pretty anxious to slap her pretty face around. Fuck that all up. Should be fun for a start." He laughed loud enough to frighten Chris.

"I told ya.' Don't hurt her." Chris shouted back up to him.

"Go to hell, Chris. Don't be telling me what to do with her."

Muriel heard hard footfalls on the stairs. The two had been shouting to each other so loudly, she heard Harry's threat. She was in a panic. She knew this was probably her only chance to do something. She looked in the fireplace. There was a bucket and an ash shovel. She kept saying. You have only one chance, Muriel. Only one chance. You must do it. This is your only chance . As she heard him unlock the door. She scooped up a shovel full of embers. As he walked into the room, she flung the shovel full of embers on him. She had aimed for his face. It landed on his upper chest. She charged him with the shovel and hit him as hard as she could, aiming for his head. He stopped the blow with his arm and pulled the shovel out of her hand as if she handed it to him. He pulled his knife out of his pocket. "I'm goin' to slice you open like a pig, you little bitch." Muriel backed up toward the fireplace and grabbed the bucket. "You stupid little wench. What good ya' think that's goin' do ya'." He lunged for her as she hit him with the bucket. He knocked it out of her hands and tried to grab her. She put up her arms and he began to slice into them. She knew she had to keep fighting. She tried to kick him and he grabbed her leg and stabbed her again in her outer thigh. She screamed. "That's right, you bitch. You're goin' to die in this nasty warehouse and rot. Nobody's goin' to find ya'." She put her hands up again and he sliced through both of them. He stabbed her in the chest. She fell.

God, please let me live, please. I can't die before I make things right with Martin and my family. Please God.

He bent down, picked her up with one hand. He stabbed her again. They both heard a clunk sound when the knife went in. "Damn, I hit a rib." He pulled back to stab her again when there was a loud, cracking sound that echoed throughout the small room. The oaf turned and looked at Christopher. "You? Why?"

"I told ya' not to hurt her." Chris went over to Muriel. "Muriel. I'm going to get you out of here. I will take ya' to your doctor. His name is Haynie, right?"

"Yes." He could barely hear her. Chris picked her up and was carrying her down the stairs when he heard coaches coming into the warehouse from the back.

"Help! Help! We need help." Chris kept yelling as loud as he could. "Lady Muriel, keep your eyes open. Please."

Martin ran up the staircase, two at a time. "Muriel" He called out. "Who did this?"

Chris still had Muriel in his arms. "We need to get'er to a doctor, fast."

"Who did this?" Martin demanded again.

"It was Harry. I killed' em. He's dead on the third floor. Now, please, we need to get'er to a doctor, fast."

"Give her to me. This just happened?"

"Yes, I guess she fought 'em like a tiger, but it wasn't enough." Chris had tears in his eyes as he spoke. "I can carry her to the coach." Chris looked down at her. "She's real beautiful and too kind to–"

"Don't say it. Don't say it." Martin said. As they were heading down the second floor of stairs. Martin called out, "Turn the coaches around. Carl. Jimmy. Go get Dr. Haynie. You must hurry. Muriel is terribly hurt. Tell Dr. Haynie she has multiple stab wounds."

"I'll bring him. Don't you worry. Lady Muriel. She has to–" Jimmy could not even bring himself to say the word.

"She will be alright." Carl spoke through tears. "She has to be. She is the only person in that whole damn house who cares enough to try to take care of everyone and keep the McDonnell estate running. She knows that. She will live for that. I know she will." They jumped onto the coach, Jimmy slapped the reins, and the horses seemed to understand the urgency. They flew through the rookery.

"Give her to me." Martin almost demanded. Chris carefully handed her over to the large, sinewy hands.

"I'm so very sorry bout this. I'd like to come with ya' to help with Lady Muriel." Chris sounded pitiful. He had blood all down his front.

"Do what you will. My only concern is Muriel." Chris supposed that was a ‘yes,' and climbed up to the coachman's seat with Walter.

Frank looked up to Chris, prepared to call him down. "I know the way. You should ride inside with Lord Clayton. He needs help."

Frank looked at him for a second and decided to trust the man. He got into the coach and Martin was almost there himself, with his little angel, Muriel, in his arms. Frank kept the cabin door open. "Hand her up to me while you get in."

"I can get in with her in my arms." He got into the coach with her. "She is bleeding from everywhere. We need to try to stop the bleeding. Fred and Lord Blackwood began to remove their topcoats and waistcoats to get to their shirts. Fred removed his and started tearing it into strips. Lord Blackwood followed suit.

Frank looked at Martin with the look of extreme concern on his face. "Martin, we need to get her coat off. I know all her clothes need to be removed. We will be better able to stop the bleeding with, at least that coat off."

"Yes, God, I fear hurting her even more." Martin was so afraid for her. "Muriel, open your eyes. Please, open your eyes."

"We must get her coat off, Martin. She is losing too much blood." Martin shifted Muriel so her back was to Frank. "If you will move both her arms away from you; I can pull her coat off easily." "Muriel, my sweet, my heart, we are going to remove your coat."

When Martin moved her arms ever so slightly behind her. As soon as he moved her arms, Frank made quick work of pulling the coat down. "Bloody hell, Martin. She has slashes down both her arms. The bastard cut through her coat."

"Muriel. My sweet. My love. Please open your eyes. You should keep your eyes open. I need to see those beautiful blue eyes. Please sweet, open your eyes."

She opened her eyes, barely; enough to see the face of the man she loved. "Martin.' She whispered. "I prayed." She swallowed. "I knew you would come for me." She began to close her eyes.

He was unable to hold back his tears. "Oh, my love, please keep your eyes open, my love. Please. For me? Muriel. Open your eyes. I want to tell you something very important and I want you to look at me when I tell you." She opened her eyes to little slits. "Muriel, I love you. I love you so much. If anything happens to you, I will die with you. Please keep your eyes open for me." He hugged her to him and sobbed.

"I have been able to wrap the one arm. Can you scoot toward me and I will move, facing her and wrap the other?" Martin looked at Frank, trying to stay strong for her.

Frank nodded. "Alright, Martin. Please help me. She has to be in pain." Martin was praying all the way to the McDonnell home. He hoped the McDonnell coach was there. He hoped they had retrieved Dr. Haynie. He hoped – he hoped – he hoped.

As Martin's coach rounded the corner onto Park Street. "Is the McDonnell coach there?"

"Yes, it is, thank God," answered Blackwood.

"That should mean the doctor is there. I will carry her upstairs to her bedchamber, unless they direct me elsewhere. Who has the torn shirt strips?"

"I do. I will follow you up, then I will step out." Blackwood assured Martin. "We need to find Aubyn. I know where he lives. He is probably there. Frank? Fred? We should take the coach and go there before he does something else."

"I was going to make the very same suggestion. We can get Muriel settled, then go." Frank knew that he may only have a small window of time to get to him.

"I'm more than happy to go along. What the hell was the stupid bastard thinking?" Fred was furious.

"I think I know. If what I'm thinking is true, poor James is really insane." Blackwood knew he had always had a tendre for Marie. But dear God, to go to these lengths to capture her attention. "This is sick. I hate it for him. I wish I had known what he had planned. What I think he was planning was to send a ransom note, then go to Marie and pay the ransom. In his mind he thought she would marry him for his kindness. My God, James."

"That sounds like a fairly accurate scenario. We need him to corroborate this. Since he is of the peerage, I'm almost positive that he will be saved from swinging." Fred wondered what they would do with him. Fred cared not one whit. He would kill him without a modicum of remorse.

"I feel guilty. I should have been able to…I had no idea, none. I never suspected a thing." Lord Blackwood looked so miserable. "He was, he is my friend. I never thought…my friend." Frank and Fred could hear the agony in his voice.

Fred could attest that every time Fred was at Venus, Lords Blackwood and Lord Aubyn were always there, sitting together, at the same table. Often it was the two of them, talking like a couple of magpies. It had to be heart-wrenching for Blackwood, even after learning all the horrid things he did.

When they arrived at the residence of Lord Aubyn, Blackwood suggested. "Let me talk to him. I am certainly not asking you not to come in. I most assuredly think you should. I have no idea what his frame of mind could be. Step in only if you have to."

When the butler opened the door, he looked at the three men curiously. "Lord Blackwood?" He stared at Blackwood. "Where is your shirt, your grace?"

Blackwood had forgotten all about having removed his shirt. "We have come to see Lord Aubyn. Where is he?"

"He has been in his study for most of the day. Shall I announce you?" Asked the confused butler.

"No, no. Not at all necessary. I know where the study is. Thank you." Blackwood looked to Frank and Fred and canted his head in the direction of the library. They followed.

"I think I'm going to bring out my pistol; hold it behind my back." Fred was very concerned that Lord Aubyn might try to kill one or all of them.

"A very good idea." Frank agreed.

"Please, only if necessary. He is sick. I know he has done terrible things but he has been my dearest friend and colleague for so long. He is so very bright." Frank and Fred could see Lord Blackwood's remorse over all this.

"We won't do anything unless he does, or acts to do something." Frank confirmed. Stephen knocked on the study door.

"Enter." James called, likely thinking it was his butler.

Stephen opened the door enough for James to see most of Stephen's body.

"Good afternoon, James. I have come to have a conversation. Alright?" James popped up from his desk chair.

"W-what do you w-want to t-t-talk about?" James was stuttering.

Stephen nodded for Frank and Fred to enter with him. Stand behind him. "James, you know Lord Windham. Let me introduce you to Frank Stewart. He works for Lord Claymont, Martin."

"I know who they both are. Why did you bring them here, Stephen? I have no need of them."

"I understand. I thought it would be very helpful if you would talk to us about the warehouse you purchased sometime after Curtis died."

"You know why I bought it. I told you. It is an investment. "

"In the rookery? James, you are insulting my sensibilities. Why did you buy it?"

"What has happened? Did it burn down? Something must have happened." James remained standing. He was standing almost rigid.

"James, I hate to tell you, but Muriel, Marie's daughter was murdered. This man, Harry? He said you hired him." Stephen was using something that was an old barrister's trick.

James fell back into the chair. "No, no, no. He was not supposed to kill her. He was supposed to keep her there until I could write a ransom." He put his elbows on his desk and laid his head in his hands.

"Why would you do that, James? Did you need money? You knew the McDonnell's had no money. Trenchard was refusing to release it." James looked up.

"Yes, I knew that. I certainly was not attempting to get her money. I would have never done that to her. I love her. You probably knew that. You did, did you not?"

"Yes, I suspected. So what were you hoping to do?" Blackwood kept attempting to get answers. "I thought, Stephen, please don't be upset with me."

"No, James. You are my dearest friend."

"I thought if she had no money and Muriel was kidnapped that I would give her the money and then she would love me."

Stephen walked over to the chair across from James and sat down. "Dear God, James. My friend. What made you think of such a scheme? Could you not ask her if you could court her?"

"I–I knew she would turn me down. If I did some noble deed, she would change her feeling for me." He looked hard at Stephen. "It took so long to get to Muriel. Martin hired all those people and Martin himself is, as he said, a mountain. When Harry tried to take Muriel at the Seymour's ball, Martin spoiled it. Marie and I could have been together by now, but for him."

"My dear James. Do you not understand? You can't make a person love you. And your plan was ill conceived. Do you not see that? What happened to Trenchard? I know you are the person that recommended him to Curtis." Stephen reached across the desk to try and take James' hand.

"Yes, I did that. I did it because I knew Curtis was ill. If I could get my hands on the will, I could withhold their money and I could help her. She could depend on me. But she refused the money when I offered it before she left Willow Bend. That is when I thought of a way that she would have to accept it."

In the most sorrowful voice, Stephen responded. "Oh, James. I'm so sorry. This plan of your was only destined to fail."

James became angry. "It should have worked. Curtis was out of the picture. She had no one else then. You understand? Once I got rid of Curtis, she should have been mine."

"So, James?" Stephen was most tentative. "You had Curtis killed? And what about Trenchard?

Did you have him killed too?"

"I had to do it. Curtis would have lived forever. He was a healthy man. A month before, Curtis told me he was having trouble sleeping. That is when I thought of a way to get rid of him. I gave him a bottle of pills. Told him they were some kind of herbal sleeping medicine. They had poison in them.

It only took a short period of time before he fell over dead. And Trenchard, I had to kill him. You understand? After Martin scared the man half to death at that ball, he came by the house to tell me he was going to end the ruse. He was going to give them the money they had due. It was unfair." He pounded his fist on the desk. "That is not what I hired him for; I was the one to make decisions, not him. He forced me to kill him. You understand, yes?"

"I think that I do, James. And Lord Crumb's son? What of him? "

"That boy was worthless. He kidnapped Marie's daughter. He would not get away with that. Harry had been following Muriel and witnessed Crumb taking her. Harry killed him and I'm glad. He would have likely been hung, if he had been caught. I think so. Lord Crumb is a lowly baron. I'm not sure, but it matters not one whit. Harry took care of it." He leaned back in his chair and smiled. "So what now, Stephen? What do you intend to do to me now? Take me to jail?" He laughed. "You really think they will do anything to me?"

"Yes, James, they will. You intentionally murdered an earl and an earl's daughter. You will swing, James. If it had been Trenchard and Crumb, you may have been alright, although Crumb's father is, as you said, a lowly baron, when you combine that with Curtis and his daughter, I fear that you will certainly hang from the gallows."

"I think not." James reached into his desk and pulled out a pistol and held it to his temple. Frank lunged forward.

"Stand down, gentlemen." Stephen held his hand back letting them know not to shoot. "I'm not swinging from anything." James continued to hold the pistol to his temple.

"James, can we talk about this? There is a possibility you might not swing. James, you are not stable. You need help."

"You are saying that I'm crazy, is that what you think?" James' face turned red with his anger at Stephen's comment.

"Yes, James. No one could have done all the things you have done and not be unstable. Crazy, to use your words, not mine."

"Hum. Tell Marie how much I loved her!" Before Stephen could say or do anything, James pulled the trigger. Bone, blood, and brain splattered around the desk. Stephen was covered with blood and tissue. He had to turn away or he would be sick.

"Frank, would you go ask the butler to bring you a sheet?" Fred had asked so he could assist Lord Blackwood, who was most visibly shaken. Rightly so. "Here, your grace, allow me to help you up."

"He was my friend. He was so insanely in love with Marie. He was obsessed. It breaks my heart." Blackwood had tears in his eyes.

"You could not have known. No one could have known. He was a very smart and affable man." Fred was trying to console Blackwood, yet he was telling him the truth. How could anyone have known? Blackwood was shattered. Fred walked him into the front drawing room, then helped him sit down. As Fred sat down beside him, he wanted to praise him. "My lord, you were so composed. You got a lot more out of him than Frank or I ever could have. I think telling him that Muriel was…gone tipped the scale. Brilliant maneuver. The thing that threw me was that he murdered Curtis, Lord McDonnell. Most tragic. I wonder if it is necessary to share that with the McDonnell family. What are your thoughts?"

"No, there is no sense in that. It would only create more pain for the family and they are suffering enough. We still need to find Curtis' will." Blackwood was hurt over his friend but still had his wits about him.

"I think you and I should return to the McDonnell's house. We can leave Frank here to go through the files. If need be, he has the authority to go through the house. I imagine he will have an Aubyn footman fetch Sir Fielding. Sir Fielding will know how to proceed with the nobility."

"I should go to the water closet to say good-bye to my old friend. I still have him with me right now. Oh, dear." He gave Fred a forced smile.

"I think the sane James would have liked that one." Fred patted Blackwood on the shoulder and gave a small laugh.