Chapter 28

MAB HAD THE ENTIRETY of thirty minutes to form her next line of interrogation. Thirty minutes which were utterly wasted as the garden was altogether too quiet for the series of disarming quick-fire questions Mab had intended to issue in a bid to trip William up and catch him out in another set of lies.

As Mab and Tilly wandered aimlessly while they awaited their men – not their men , Mab reminded herself, Tilly’s man and the man Mab was determined to see brought to justice – Mab was able to catch glimpses of guards seemingly inconspicuously enjoying the garden too. Who wasn’t inconspicuous was the plaided form of Angus, who was chest, shoulders and head above a flower bed some way off, attempting to look as if he were simply admiring a rosebush despite the flowers being long gone.

Tilly twisted her hands nervously in front of her.

“There’s no need to be nervous,” Mab said, her voice only just above a whisper to not carry across the garden. “Benedict seems to be an incredibly thoughtful young man, and if yesterday’s afternoon tea is anything to go by, he seems very much in line with moving at the pace you set.”

“Calm and conscientious,” Tilly whispered to herself.

“Indeed,” Mab said, and she quite agreed .

“It is not all nerves,” Tilly said. “I mean, it is mostly nerves, but I do find myself somewhat excited to find out more about him.”

“Such as?” Mab asked. If Mab couldn’t interrogate William this evening, she would need some inspiration for topics of discussion.

Tilly thought for a moment. “I should like to know if he likes dogs. I do, and my family ” – she bit out the last word – “always kept German Rottweilers at the w-warehouse. They are herd dogs, you know? But equally good at protection and very intimidating. I helped raise all the pups. There was one named Brutus who was to be a b-breeding stud. But he crippled his leg when he was only a year and a half old. My father was going to shoot him, but I begged and pleaded and managed to convince Father to let me look after him – after all, he could still breed with three legs. Brutus and I were as thick as thieves.” Tilly smiled in memory. A lot quieter, she added, “He would have killed my attacker had father not insisted on chaining him up for his visit. Brutus could tell there was s-something not right with him .”

Mab felt her arms tighten in Tilly’s. The pair spent a moment in silence before Tilly continued, “I should also like to know his favourite pastime. And if he enjoys reading. And ...”

Tilly trailed off, and a second later, Mab saw William and Benedict. They were hunched, heads together, with a guard between them, who was whispering to them animatedly. The guard had to be at least a head shorter than the pair, and the minute he caught a glimpse of Mab and Tilly, his smile widened and his back straightened. William and Benedict followed suit, and the guard pushed the pair in front of him to finish their journey alone.

There was something warming about the fact that the two men seemed so at ease with the guard. She gritted her teeth at the conflicting image of William being of a kindly disposition to those born of a lower station than him .

While Benedict wore an expression as nervous as Tilly’s, though with the same streak of excitement she also showed, William’s expression was somewhat dour. He offered Mab a distracted smile as he took his place at her side, and the pair silently waited for Benedict and Tilly to exchange a greeting. When the young couple ahead had mumbled their red-faced acknowledgements, they began walking.

It took a few moments of disjointed comments before Benedict was finally in full swing of the conversation, pointing out various wild birds that fluttered by, offering their Latin names and accompanying information such as migration habits.

Unusually, it was Mab and William who seemed unable to shake the awkwardness between them. Yesterday, William had been charming, and yet today, he was decidedly distracted. Mab could only guess that he’d had his conversation with Charles already and that was the source of his distraction. She so badly wanted to begin her interrogation this very moment – it was like a worm had buried itself in her skull and was causing a near unbearable itching that would only be resolved by knowing the truth.

But she could hear almost every word Benedict was saying, despite the couple being twenty paces ahead of them, and she needed privacy for her questions.

Apparently noticing the silence from their end, Tilly threw Mab a quizzical glance over her shoulder.

“Apologies, Mab,” William said, Tilly’s glance not having gone unnoticed by him. “I am afraid I am not much company this evening.”

Mab just couldn’t help herself. “Is something bothering you, William?”

To Mab’s utter surprise, Benedict threw a glance over his shoulder at William. That single glance was the reason that for the first time since hearing of the murder plot while crouched behind a topiary bush, Mab felt her accusations might be somewhat askew .

“I think all will be well. I’ve just received some ... news that has been rather difficult to digest,” said William.

Mab, careful to watch for Benedict’s reaction, said, “I have been known to have a sympathetic ear, if it is something you wish to talk about.”

Benedict’s eyes widened, his face blanching, but he offered no indication that William shouldn’t divulge any further information. Instead, he turned back to Tilly, pointed at an indistinguishable brown puff of feathers some distance away and continued his lectures on the local fauna.

William offered her a tight smile. “I do not doubt it. But I rather think you wouldn’t believe me if I told you. In fact, I can barely get my head around it myself.”

Mab’s brows knotted as she tried to dissect what William had said. He was practically admitting – with very little prompting – that a murder plot had been discussed with Charles.

Moreover, Benedict’s reaction confirmed that he knew what had been discussed.

Mab’s eyes drifted to Benedict. He couldn’t possibly be in cahoots with William, could he? The moment the thought formed, she disregarded it. No, the likelihood of the two men knowing each other before Gaol Manor was incredibly slim. William Blackwater had, by all accounts, removed himself from society over a decade ago, rumoured to have stayed in his estate from then on. Tilly had been quite guarded about the information she shared regarding Benedict, but for reasons that seemed to satisfy Tilly’s curiosity, at least, he too had decided not to enter society. Though that in itself wasn’t terribly odd. The lad couldn’t have been older than nineteen and was probably still focusing on his studies. It simply didn’t make sense that the pair of them had been aware of each other before now. Presumably, William wouldn’t share his plans to murder with a young lad he’d only met a handful of days ago.

But it was evident that Benedict was aware of the exchange between William and Charles .

Mab let out an audible breath. This new revelation left her with only one incredibly irritating explanation: there was another layer to the story that Mab hadn’t figured out yet.

“Apologies,” William said awkwardly. His tone was almost pleading as he continued, “It is not that I do not trust your judgment or discretion. It is only that the news relates to a family matter, one that has only just come to light and the consequences of which have yet to unfold. I do believe I might like to take you up on your offer of a sympathetic ear sometime in the future, though, if you would be obliged?”

Once again, Benedict cast a worried glance over his shoulder.

... the consequences of which have yet to unfold.

William’s words seemed to have the opposite effect than intended, for the worm in her brain buried deeper, her need to figure out the mystery intensifying. While she was perhaps leaning towards the thought that William might not be an active participant in a murder, he had just blatantly admitted that there was still something afoot of which his brother could fall afoul. And if she found out that she could have prevented a man’s death but decided to instead remain quiet, she would never forgive herself.

Mab bit the inside of her cheek. She would get to the bottom of it if it was the last thing she did. But not right this minute. She would need to get William on his own for a proper interrogation. Perhaps she’d invite him for supper this evening?

“Of course,” Mab said. “Whenever you are ready to share, my ear is yours.”

As they fell into silence once more, Mab’s eyes drifted towards the couple ahead. Tilly had taken a step closer to Benedict and seemed to be actively quizzing him on his knowledge, pointing at birds and smiling when Benedict rattled off information about the species. Tilly’s smile had gone from nervousness to awe and splendour.

“Do you enjoy reading?” Mab asked William. She might as well use the time to glean whatever other information she could about William if she was to have to chaperone with him.

“Ah ... no,” William said. Mab noted that his cheeks seemed to darken somewhat. “Do you?”

“Immensely,” she said. While Mab’s favourite genre of novels was anything either fantastical or perhaps on the more inappropriate side of romantic, she decided to test her boundaries with William and list some of the books she’d enjoyed from her education. Most of all, though, she was just being petty after him not being able to pick a single subject area from his plethora of studies. A part of her wanted to rub in the fact that she, too, had an education. “I enjoy Milton and Pope but will always have a soft spot for anything by Euripides,” she said, unable to hide the smugness in her voice.

“I was unaware the Pope published work,” William said.

Mab couldn’t help but bark a rather unladylike laugh at William’s quip. She cast a glance at him and was surprised to find a look of confusion on William’s face, which quickly faded and was replaced by a furious blush.

Did he not know of Alexander Pope?

Strange , thought Mab. He was the son of a viscount. Surely, he had studied the works of Pope?

William quickly changed the subject. “You said yesterday that your ideal husband would be kind, honest, of morale and” – his lips quirked into an amused grin – “one that embodies the man in gentleman.”

Mab tried her damndest not to remember the homely peal of laughter that William had issued when she’d made the offhand comment.

“I did,” she said. She wasn’t quite sure what reply she was waiting for – perhaps a poorly veiled crude remark or a lecture on the benefits of a gentleman as a suitor.

“You do not strike me as a delicate woman in need of the gentle touch. That is to say,” he added hurriedly, as if in haste to reassure that there was no innuendo intended behind his comment, “I cannot picture you as the kind of woman who would be content spending her days on fine needlework and milling about. In fact, I would rather say you would be inclined to take a more ... active role in a marriage?”

His final word ended in an inflection, as if he were almost hopeful that his assessment of Mab had been accurate. And accurate it was. Eerily so.

Was he purposefully seeking a wife who wasn’t the traditional layabout-lady of the ton?

Mab couldn’t help but probe at this revelation a little further. “If by active, you are asking if I am a lady who enjoys taking the reins and controlling all aspects of a marriage, then no. That, I most certainly am not . But if you are asking do I seek a partnership with my future husband, then yes. I most certainly do.”

A most charming smile spread across William’s face. “And in terms of the running of things outside of the marriage?”

Mab’s eyes narrowed. Was he asking her if she was inclined to participate in the business side of things?

She might not be able to interrogate him about the murder plot, but by God , she certainly didn’t have any qualms about ascertaining if he was a man who would actually value her input into a business! It was what she lived and breathed! And was something she had thought would have to be sacrificed to marriage.

Excitement got the better of her, and she was completely unable to be delicate about the matter. “William. Are you asking me if I would be the kind of woman who would help a husband run a business?”

The smile faltered on William’s face, though didn’t drop fully, as if he’d been bracing himself for disappointment.

“I mentioned that I was here because my estate was failing and that I require money. The estate was always doomed to fail, but I rather think that my ineptitude for business has hurried its demise along.”

“Why did you not simply hire someone to help with the running of the place?” Mab asked .

William shrugged. “If I had the money, I guess I would have. But I always had a dream ...” He trailed off as if surprised he’d said as much as he had.

Mab, interest piqued, asked, “What was your dream of?”

William studied her for a long while before saying, “Nothing.”

Unperturbed, Mab continued, “We are all here for one reason or another. I highly doubt having a divergent business dream is one of the worst reasons.”

William chuckled. Finally, he said, “I always had a dream that I would share all aspects of my life with my wife. I often pictured her pouring over the ledger books, as she watched me till the fields.”

The son of a viscount tilling the fields was laughable. Maybe once in a blue moon to invigorate the tenants. But even in a precarious financial state, she highly doubted a gentleman would farm their land to the same extent as one of their farm labourers. Nonetheless, the image of William dressed in rough-hewn clothes, guiding a Clydesdale horse and plough across a field, had her nearly weak at the knees. She could easily picture herself in that scene, spread across a blanket as she worked on the ledgers with a feeling of satisfaction, knowing that she was an active part in the business. Even more fulfilment was to be had from the fact that she was being valued by her husband as more than just a device to produce progenies. She tried her best not to think of how William would come to her side, the smell of fresh earth and hard work thick in the air as he settled in beside her and whispered just how much he appreciated her in her ear before those words turned into an appreciation of another kind entirely. The scene brought to the front of her mind that pesky feeling of familiarity again. But just as quick as it had formed, it flittered away from her once more.

He genuinely meant it. He was looking for a partner in a wife. Not someone to exploit for her dowry and toss aside.

“Mab?” he asked .

Mab felt her cheeks pinken, and she really hoped that her face hadn’t betrayed her roiling thoughts as it had done just hours ago with Emily.

“Of course, that’s just a silly dream,” William continued, allowing Mab to right herself. “I think that, should I be fortunate enough to leave here with a wife who can see past my financial situation, and perhaps save me from it, I ought to hire someone who knows what they’re doing.” He grinned mischievously. “But I expect they would be far less enjoyable to work with.”

Mab couldn’t seem to help herself. The words formed of their own volition in her mouth, and there was nothing she could do to stop them from pouring out. “I look after my father’s ledgers and accounts,” she said. “I manage the tenants and deal with all their issues and arrange pretty much everything required from the estates. My father is more than capable, of course, and we could certainly afford to pay someone to do it for us if we wanted. But I think he sees just how much enjoyment I get out of working and simply lets me get on with it.”

William blinked a few times. “ You run the estate? And you enjoy it?”

“I really do,” Mab said.

William grinned. “You truly are like no woman I’ve ever met before. One of a kind, and a rarity to be cherished.” Mab was certain that the following comment was supposed to be said under his breath, and certainly not intended for her ears, but she heard every syllable. “ My fairy .”

What happened a split second later was on account of her twisting her ankle as she turned to say something to William – at least, that was what she would tell anyone who asked.

The truth was she’d had an image of her perfect man since childhood – the only man she’d ever fantasised as a husband. And every time she dreamed of him, he always called her my fairy . William calling her such had caused her knees to weaken, and she was on the verge of swooning – something that she had never done, nor ever intended to do, in her life.

Fortunately for Mab, William appeared to have the reflexes of a cat. Thick, branch-like arms wrapped around her, halting her descent. The genuine look of concern on his face, and just how close those perfect lips were to hers, had her almost grasping the lapel of his jacket and crashing her mouth onto his.

It was Tilly’s squeal that pulled Mab to her senses.

Not William, it seemed.

He remained holding her, his breath heavy, his eyes dark, as he peered into Mab’s eyes as if lost in the moment.

“I believe the second part of the rescue is returning me to my original state,” Mab whispered to him.

“Huh?” he said, as if he’d lost the ability to comprehend words.

“Please return me to a standing position, William.”

His eyes widened. “Of course!”

The world tilted, and Mab was upright once more.

Tilly was by her side, as was Benedict. A quick glance about the garden told her that no less than four guards were watching them – the one that had accompanied William and Benedict wearing a wide grin on his face.

“Thank you for catching me, William,” Mab said, patting down her skirts.

Having ascertained that both William and Mab were in no danger, the young couple’s attention had returned to one another.

“May I see you again, Tilly?” Benedict asked.

Tilly nodded. She glanced up at Benedict. “I would very much like that.”

William, as if sensing he might not get a chance to ask Mab again, said quickly, “May I see you again, Mab?”

“I believe so,” said Mab.

And sooner than you think, she thought.

As Mab and Tilly walked back towards the house, Mab decided that she would spend the next couple of hours dissecting every scrap of information she had. She would invite William to her room to question him and get to the bottom of the mystery tonight, even if it meant having to ask him outright.

She desperately needed to know, because she was beginning to picture her future with William in it.

MY FAIRY.

My fairy.

My fairy.

Mab handed her note to the guard before sitting at her vanity table and unpinning her hair. As she began the laborious task of one hundred strokes of the brush, she recounted her interactions with William thus far to see if she could recall anything significant that might help her.

Mab closed her eyes and recalled the memory of the night she’d almost killed William in the storm. She’d had the briefest notion that she might have recognised him as he lay beneath her, but that couldn’t possibly be the case. Mab’s ability to recall faces out of context was abysmal to say the least, and he had been unconscious. So, what could have possibly made her feel that notion of familiarity? She squeezed her eyes and pulled the image of his unconscious form, illuminated by a sliver of moonlight, from the depths of her mind. Heat pooled in her stomach as she remembered thinking how handsome he was. His mud-streaked hair was plastered to his face, his body hard between her legs as she’d straddled him. The heat in her stomach moved lower as she remembered her fingers splayed on his chest, his white shirt translucent, his nipples hard beneath her palms.

Mab shook her head. Now was not the time to relive her fantasies about stumbling across a stable master drenched from falling in a pond and in need of rescuing and warming up .

Mab took a deep breath and recalled the image of William from the infirmary. She really must have hit her head that night, for she remembered thinking William had looked like a conquistador. The image of his defined legs, the thick band of muscle of his olive calves pulsing as he walked towards her in his ridiculously short shirt, was seared into her memory.

The brain worm niggled at the back of her mind. While she couldn’t recall the Viscount’s facial features, there was certainly nothing familiar between him and William. When she thought of the Viscount, her mind played the words: portly, Celtic-looking, short, ginger. William was none of those things. In fact, Mab couldn’t think of two people less likely to be related than William and the Viscount.

I do not have a brother.

Had that really been a lie? Or could there be some truth to his statement after all?

Mab recalled a memory from her childhood. She’d been visiting her aunt and uncle, Lord and Lady Banbridge. She had been sitting with her six female cousins as they sipped tea, embroidered, played the pianoforte and did other equally useless pastimes. Mab had been itching to escape into the countryside to find the fairy tree her aunt had mentioned and sat at the window overlooking the grounds. There was only one other house in the distance, far across the expanse of grey fields speckled with white goats. One of her cousins – she couldn’t remember which one as they all looked eerily similar in their laces and frills – had made an odd comment.

“That’s the Viscount’s estate. You don’t want to cross paths with them.” At Mab’s look of interest, her cousin had continued, “The Viscount is a mean man. The eldest son is absolutely horrible and a cheat. The last time he came to visit, he challenged us to a game of Commerce. We lost all of our pin money to him before we noticed he had extra cards up his sleeve. The sister is nice enough, but usually keeps to herself. Though I hear she’s been sent to Scotland. And the youngest child, William ...” Her cousin had paused for a moment before continuing. “There are rumours that he is a disturbed child, one that is unfit for society. I think his father keeps him detained in the house for the most part. I’ve only ever met him a handful of times. But I, for one, feel sorry for him.”

Why would the then viscount treat his two sons so differently? The heir was allowed to gallivant about the land, cheating young women out of their pin money, while the spare was purposefully shunned from society?

Unless ...

Is William a bastard?

Something clicked into place. His tall, dark and handsome conquistador appearance, so different to that of his brother’s. His father’s disdain for him could easily have rubbed off on his brother. Indeed, when rumours about William had arisen at the balls that Mab had attended, the Viscount had done nothing to dispel them or come to the defence of William.

Could that be the reason why William didn’t acknowledge his brother?

She guessed then that he hadn’t technically told her a lie.

Her heart beat faster in her chest.

But she still felt like she was missing an important piece of the puzzle. Something niggled at the back of her skull, a connection desperate to be made that her brain just couldn’t quite spark.

Mab decided that it would probably come to her eventually.

For now, the only thing she had left to do was to figure out this blasted murder plot. She was certain – well, maybe ninety percent certain – that William was innocent. She just needed to prove it to rid herself of this most inconvenient brain worm.

And then what? the voice inside her head asked.

She would have proved that the most attractive man she’d ever clapped eyes on had been honest with her. That, while he was a fortune hunter, he was truthful about his intentions and was not the kind of man to resort to violence to gain a fortune, despite how cruel his father and brother had been. He did not think less of her for being free with her virtue. And he was going out of his way to find a wife who would participate in his business.

If she had to leave here with someone, it might as well be the man who’d proven his character to her.

My fairy.

Oh, who was she trying to fool?

The moment those two words had passed his lips, she was his.