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Chapter 30

MAB HAD BEEN CONFIDENT in her plan. It was simple; she would don her most revealing nightdress and seduce the answers out of him.

But the moment the door swung open, and the musty smell of mountain daffodils and dewy orange blossoms filled her nose, she was done for. She had just enough sense to gesture him inside and to the chairs by the fire. She couldn’t remember if it was part of her plan of seduction, or if the room had just inexplicably grown to a nearly unbearable temperature, but as his back was turned, she found her fingers automatically undoing the buttons to her dressing gown. She settled into the seat beside William and was surprised to find something cold and hard pressing into her back.

Oh yes, the pistol , she reminded herself. She had quite forgotten that she was only ninety per cent convinced of his innocence, that last niggling doubt having compelled her to have a backup plan.

If only it were something else hard pressing into my back, she thought.

She felt her cheeks flush and between her legs dampen as she shuffled in her seat. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw William’s gaze fall on her exposed leg and caught the impressive bulge in his britches before he covered it with a strategically placed arm.

Well, her plan of seduction was working, though she too was falling foul of it.

“Would you care for some wine?” she asked, and was almost surprised at the need in her voice.

William nodded. He turned slightly to face her, reaching out with the arm that he wasn’t using as a cover for his crotch, as she pushed the glass she’d filled earlier towards him. His eyes lingered on her chest, and something pulsed in his dark neck before his head snapped towards the fire, determined to look at anything but her.

Her body crackled with lust, and she was unsure if she would be able to remember any of the questions she’d prepared. The way the glow of the fire danced over his tanned skin, the occasional flicker illuminating a scar on his hand before it faded, was making her think just how wonderful it would be to see the contrast of his hands on her body as they pushed their way further up her skirts. His lashes were thick, cloaking his dark eyes from her as he determinately stared at the fire.

“This wine is exquisite,” William said, and Mab realised she’d been staring at his thick thighs for far too long and hadn’t realised he’d even taken a sip. Indeed, somehow her index finger had made its way to her mouth and was settled securely between her teeth.

Interrogation, Mab. You’re here to use your feminine wiles to find out once and for all what Charles meant so this whole nasty business about murder can be put to bed.

And then maybe you and William can be put to bed too?

“You said you had an estranged sister. Do you not get along?” Mab asked before taking a sip of wine.

William thought for a moment before the barest hint of a smile tugged on his lips. “My father was a cruel man who resented me. When he no longer wished to look upon me, he would lock me in my rooms and would punish anyone who would show me kindness. My sister tried her best to show me companionship when she could and would often leave little presents in my room to keep me company on the days I would be locked inside. My father married her off to an old friend when she was only seventeen, and then a couple of years later, something happened that she thought me responsible for. A recent turn of events has made it come to light that it was my brother who was responsible, and I hope to reconnect with my sister soon.”

Ah ha! He just admitted to having a brother! Maybe Mab wasn’t totally incompetent when it came to interrogation after all.

Something happened that she thought me responsible for.

Catherine had left when she was seventeen. Her cousin had said as much when she warned Mab about the Blackwater family. And a couple of years later, something had happened that she thought William was responsible for, something bad enough for her to estrange herself from him. Something that he’d recently discovered his brother was actually responsible for ...

Mab felt like the answer was so close, but she couldn’t quite make the connection.

“I never got the chance at afternoon tea to ask you about your family,” William said, pulling Mab back from her thoughts.

“It’s just myself and my father. I was visiting my cousins in the countryside when the pox hit. By the time I arrived home, my three brothers were dead, and my mother followed not long after.”

Mab could have sworn William’s skin flushed grey.

“I’m very sorry for your loss,” William said into his glass.

The memory of that day had been etched into her mind forever. Three things had happened almost simultaneously. She had made her way to the pond and beat the brambles out of the way. She hadn’t realised until years later when she’d begun to learn more about horticulture for the sake of the farm that she’d almost eaten the leaf of a poisonous plant thinking it was wild garlic. Secondly, though his face was lost to time, she’d met the first boy who had piqued her interest in men. Finally, her aunt’s panicked cries as she frantically searched for Mab after having received the news about the pox would forever be seared into Mab’s mind.

“It was a long time ago, and I’ve made my peace with it.” Mab glanced towards the miniature of her mother over William’s shoulder. She couldn’t make out the details from this angle, but just knowing a piece of her mother was here gave her strength. Mab’s mother, while high in the peerage, had been just like her. Maybe not with the swearing and looseness of virtue, but she was headstrong, perceptive and persistent. For a brief second, she wondered what her mother would think of this place. She wondered if her brothers had survived, what kind of men they would have been? Kind, courageous and with a roguish streak, Mab decided. And she was certain she would have been surrounded by sisters-in-law, nieces and nephews by now if it hadn’t been for the cursed pox.

Mab cleared her throat, the flames crackling in her veins doused. “What is it you do in your free time, besides being a gentleman, of course?” It was a simple question, one which Mab hadn’t expected much of an answer to. But it would bridge her into her next set of questions, to prod and see if his pastimes could indicate the kind of financial trouble that couldn’t be solved with a dowry.

William took a long time to answer, his face slightly contorting as he chose his words carefully. Finally, he turned in his seat to face her. His eyes practically glowed, the light from the fire casting his face into harsh angles that should look sinister, but somehow reminded her of a renaissance statue.

“Mab.” His voice radiated through her, rattling her bones. It wasn’t lust or seduction, but the voice of a man who was determined to tell her a hard truth, despite what it might cost him. “I have already told you that I came here to find a wealthy woman. And I’m aware that the practice of matching wealth with a title is commonplace in society. But my situation is ...” He trailed off for a moment, and Mab couldn’t help but lean in, desperate to hear more. “Somewhat more dire than most. When my father was mur— died , he willed everything to my brother, and left me my mother’s family home. It wasn’t a kindness, though. It was a punishment. It was in a severe state of disrepair, and he purposefully left me without the funds to maintain it. He wanted me to rot away with the memory of my mother and what she had done. My mother had squirrelled away just enough to keep the estate going for the last fifteen years, and to keep myself and my two faithful servants going. I do not show myself in society partly out of shame, but mostly because I spend all my time working the fields, making repairs and just generally surviving.”

Mab sat quietly, contemplating.

William had a brother, who was known to gamble and cheat.

William’s sister, who had shown him small kindnesses when she could, had been sent to Scotland to marry. William stated that something had happened that she thought him responsible for, and so she estranged herself.

Mab knew from her cousins that Catherine had been married off around the time she had visited Lord and Lady Banbridge, and the only significant event that she knew had happened to the Viscount’s family a couple of years after that was the death of the Viscount himself.

The matter of the Viscount’s untimely death.

Perhaps she’d got this all wrong?

Perhaps Charles wasn’t suggesting a plot to murder the current viscount ...

William’s father had died rather abruptly. Mab racked her mind for a cause of death, but only snippets filtered through. She recalled her father receiving a letter from her aunt and uncle. They’d said he’d been healthy as a horse, and then he was suddenly struck with severe gripping of the stomach so intense that some of their tenants working the fields could hear his screams of agony from his open window .

A recent turn of events has made it come to light that it was my brother who was responsible, and I hope to reconnect with my sister soon.

No ... surely William couldn’t be alluding that his brother murdered his father?

He was careful enough not to say too much about his family, but William had no idea that Mab knew exactly who he was and that she had enough of a wild imagination to not shy away from making outrageous connections.

She just knew she was on the right tracks. Lucius Blackwater had murdered his father.

But why?

And something else niggled at the back of her mind.

All it would take is a whisper in one of their ears and that would be the end of the current viscount Blackwater. And, with no male heirs, the title would naturally go to you.

The entire reason Mab had thought William was involved in a plot to murder his brother was because Charles had alluded to Viscount Lucius Blackwater being involved in some unsavoury dealings that could get him killed, dealings that could be exploited. So, if there was no plot to murder the current viscount, at least on William’s behalf, the Viscount must be so deeply involved with these unsavoury characters that his life was on the line.

While Mab’s Liverpudlian cousins all had a code of honour, they were somewhat loose with following the law, more so than even her father had realised, otherwise he certainly would not have allowed Mab to spend some of her summers with them. During her time in Liverpool, she had met some of the criminals who hadn’t had the moral compass the Dubarry clan possessed, and she could say with certainty that most men paid with their lives in lieu of money.

Was the Viscount in debt, and enough so that he was to pay with his life?

No. Her theory was utterly preposterous! Yet, she knew Lucius was a gambling man, and if he had gambled away a viscount’s fortune now, perhaps that was the motive to kill his father. He’d needed more access to funds, even back then.

As ludicrous and totally unfounded as her theory was, Mab couldn’t help but think there was some truth to her thoughts.

Thoughts which, apparently, she had taken far too long to muse on. By the time she turned to face William, he was no longer in his seat, but striding across the room, muttering his apologies.

“... apologise for wasting your time. It’s only that I wanted to be clear about my financial situation so that it would not come as a surprise—”

“I do not care about that,” Mab said, climbing onto her chair to face him. Her knuckles were almost white as they clasped the headrest. “In fact, a man who is prepared to work the fields, actively doing something to try to solve his problems instead of spending his time clutching the bottle and feeling sorry for himself is rather admirable. And a man who is honest about it, even more so.”

The cool metal of her pistol radiated through her thigh, and she suddenly felt ashamed for thinking that she might have need of it.

William remained fixed to his spot, his hand clasped around the handle of the door as he digested what she had said. Finally, he turned to face her.

Before he could speak, and before she lost her nerve, Mab said, “You have been honest with me, so perhaps I should reciprocate.” She gestured to the seat he’d vacated.

It took William a moment to move, but finally, he made his way back. He only briefly glanced at Mab as she swivelled into a sitting position, before his gaze was intently back on the fire. A moment later, Mab realised that her nightdress had bunched up at her leg, exposing her knee and some of her thigh. Her heart swelled that William had the decency to look away as she fixed herself. Any other gentleman would have let his gaze linger on her ... or perhaps worse if he knew they were alone together. She shook away the image of what kind of man could have done such a thing to Tilly and thanked God that she’d not come across such a devil.

“Do you know who I am?” Mab asked.

William shook his head. He glanced at Mab from the corner of his eye, and finding she was no longer in a state of undress, turned to look at her.

“Have you heard of the Dubarry Shipping Industry?” Mab asked – a stupid question, because of course everyone in the gentry had heard of them. New money, but so much of it that they simply had to be accepted into the fold. But when William shook his head again, it took Mab by surprise. “Truly? You do not know of the Dubarrys?”

William’s lips pursed together. “Seeing as we’re being honest with each other, I believe I should tell you that my father didn’t allow me to have an education. I was schooled alongside my sister with her governess. I know nothing of politics, history, sciences and the who’s who of the gentry.”

Something stabbed in Mab’s gut. Not only had she been unwarranted in her anger when she’d pushed him about his favourite subject, but she’d been petty enough to rub her own education in his face.

William’s father was a despicable man, one who, if she were being honest, probably deserved his fate.

“You may not know me, but I know who you are. You’re Mr William Blackwater, brother and heir presumptive of Viscount Lucius Blackwater.”

William gritted his teeth but nodded in confirmation.

Mab sucked in a breath. “At the last soiree, I was out on the terrace when you were confronted by Charles. I heard what he said about the Viscount’s untimely death.”

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