Chapter Seven
Marcus peered over the rim of his coffee cup as Roderick walked into the breakfast room alongside Milli. Clayton and Stephen sat across from him. Emily and her stepdaughter Gabby, who was six, were eating breakfast too. They were a family, and even thought Marcus knew they irritated each other at times, they were all there to support Roderick and Jane during this hard time.
Roderick nodded to the table of people as he walked toward the sideboard overflowing with food. “Good to see all of you this morning.”
Gabby looked up from her eggs. “Mama said you were sad, so we should come and make you smile. Is that not so, Uncle Marcus?”
Marcus pursed his lips while Clayton muffled a laugh into his napkin. Stephen chuckled. But he noticed Milli hadn’t said a word. “That is so, little one.”
Gabby tilted her head toward the duke. “See?”
Roderick smirked. “Ah, Gabby, you always make me smile.”
The little girl giggled and continued eating.
Marcus watch with interest as Milli moved along the sideboard, filling the duke’s plate. “Eggs are good for the brain,” she announced to Roderick. “But you also need some coffee. Marcus, would you pour your brother a cup?”
Marcus blinked. “What?” He stared at Clayton and Stephen whose eyes were twinkling with mirth. Milli was doing a grand job of ignoring him, until now.
Lady Emily smothered a grin. “Yes, Marcus. Pour His Grace some coffee.”
Marcus felt everyone’s eyes upon him, except the duke’s. “What the devil?” he remarked in a hoarse whisper. The duke seemed in another world.
His siblings shrugged, seeming just as surprised as he that Milli was giving orders in Roderick’s home. However, not wanting to upset his brother, Marcus did as he was told.
After pouring the coffee, he set the silver carafe back on the table and frowned. “And where are the servants, pray tell?”
Milli turned and gave him an imperious glare. “They have been removed, so we may speak freely about the situation.”
Roderick swiveled his head as he towered over Milli. “Indeed, Milli is correct. I gave them the morning off.”
Marcus lifted his brows in surprise at Roderick’s attitude.
But his brother’s glum face said it all. Jane had lost their baby, the possible heir to the dukedom. And the young duchess was at death’s door.
Silence blanketed the room.
After a minute of quiet, Gabby finally looked up from her meal. “I would like to go shopping today, Uncle Marcus. But you shouldn’t say bad words. You might have to sit in the corner.”
Marcus’s silver eyes popped wide in shock. “I did not say bad words.”
Emily pursed her lips, her violet eyes glittering with amusement. “I think you did, Uncle Marcus.”
He reddened. “What did I say?”
Gabby leaned across the table, lowering her voice. “You said . . .” she looked left, then right, “devil.” She gave a curt nod and returned to her eggs.
Milli snickered. Marcus glared at her.
“Ah,” Marcus replied, clearly reprimanded by the child, “I won’t say it again in your presence, Gabby. Forgive me.”
Gabby smiled as she took a sip of her chocolate. “I forgive you. But only if you take me shopping.”
Emily gasped in outrage. “Gabby.”
The little girl blinked her innocent blue eyes. “But Mama. He said he would take me last month, but he went to the races instead.”
Emily shot Marcus a cool glare. “I seem to recall something to that effect. I believe you will be taking Gabby shopping.”
Marcus choked on his coffee.
Milli sat down beside Gabby. “You must keep Uncle Marcus on his toes, Gabby. It is your duty.”
Gabby slurped her hot chocolate and set her cup onto the table. “That’s what Mama said too.”
Emily reddened. “Eat your breakfast, dear.”
Gabby shrugged and took another sip, her eyes traveling over the table, watching the adults with a curious eye. Roderick was silent. He had taken his plate and sat at the head of the table, looking quite out of sorts.
Marcus squirmed in his seat. His little niece was almost as much trouble as Milli. Shopping, indeed. “Gabby. Perhaps your mother can take you. She has a better eye than I do.”
Gabby tilted her head and stuffed a buttered roll into her mouth. “No, you have good eyes too. Your eyes are silver and just as pretty as Mama’s.” Munch munch. “But I think you should take me. You are the best shopper. Mama told me so.”
Marcus glared at his sister. “She did, did she?”
Emily’s violet eyes smiled back. “Yes, indeed, Marcus. Anyway, I will be needed here for a while. And my dear husband and the baby are home with sore throats. He was under the weather last night, but things turned worse. We don’t want Gabby to become ill, so she is staying here as well.”
Marcus frowned. He didn’t like this turn of events. “My roof is being repaired, so I have been taking my old room this past week.”
“Oh goody!” Gabby clapped in joy. “Then you can go shopping with me every day. I want a new hat, a purple one. ’Member you promised me a purple hat on my birthday, but they were out of them. Then we can buy some more gloves. And then shoes. And then some writing paper. We will have so much fun!”
Clayton let out a snicker. “Yes, Uncle Marcus, you are by far the best shopper in this entire room.”
Stephen couldn’t help but snort. “I hear the ladies adore shopping with Marcus.”
Marcus slapped his napkin onto the table.
Roderick looked up. “Is something amiss?”
Marcus realized the duke hadn’t been paying attention to a thing that was said. Even Milli was frowning.
Marcus blew out a tired breath and turned his attention to the little girl. “Purple?”
“Yes,” Gabby said, looking at him. “Your lady friend had on a purple hat last month at Hyde Park, and I liked it. She was in the open carriage and you were on your horse. ‘Member? I was with Papa.”
Marcus cleared his throat. Milli raised her brows, waiting.
“Lady friend?” Clayton put in. “Tell us about this lady friend, Uncle Marcus.”
“A purple hat lady friend?” Stephen asked with a smirk.
Even the duke chuckled. “Purple feather too?”
Everyone, including Marcus, seemed surprise by the duke’s amused outburst.
“Probably a purple face too,” Milli muttered to herself, looking at her plate.
Gabby turned to Milli. “Oh, no, her face wasn’t purple. It was very white with red circles on her cheeks.”
Emily’s fork clattered against her plate. “Marcus?” she squeaked.
Marcus laughed. “Devil take it, it was Miss Canton. She had a cold—”
“Mama! Uncle Marcus said bad words again! Are you going to make him sit in the corner?” Gabby threw two little fists to her hips and shook her head Marcus’s way.
Milli put a hand across her mouth to hide her smile.
Marcus looked around the table and groaned. “Jupiter! I did not say a bad word!”
Clayton snickered. “Must say, same thing happened to me years ago. Haven’t said a bad word in front of you know who for ages. Paid my dues, I can tell you that.”
Gabby started crying. “Uncle . . . Marcus . . . is yelling at . . . m-me.”
Emily gave Marcus a scowl that could burn coal.
Marcus’s lips thinned. He rose from his chair and came around the table, handing Gabby his handkerchief. “Perhaps I did say a bad word or two.”
The little girl sniffed, peeking up at him. “Y-you d-did.”
“How about I take you shopping today and we forget all about the bad words?”
Gabby nodded, blowing her nose. “But no more bad words.” She handed the wet cloth back to Marcus who looked at the thing as if it had worms.
“Very well, no more bad words.” He pocketed the handkerchief and knelt beside the child, kissing her cheek.
From across the table, Milli’s heart tumbled. He was not stuffy at all.
Gabby kissed him back. “If you say bad words,” she whispered loud enough for everyone else to hear, “You can get in big trouble with Mama. I said a bad word once and had to stay in the nursery all day.”
Marcus kept a straight face. “No?”
Gabby nodded. “And then, I had to tell Papa I was sorry. And he said I should never say bad words, even though I hear them from other people. Like you.”
The others tried to contain their laughter with coughs and clearing of throats.
“Come here, you little poppet.” Marcus swiped her from her seat and threw her up in the air, catching her.
She giggled, grabbing his neck and wrapping her legs around him. “You won’t say any more bad words, Uncle Marcus, will you?”
“No, and I think if you are ready in an hour we can go shopping and buy two purple bonnets.”
“Oooooh, two? But my little brother won’t like purple. I think we should buy him blue! He’s a boy, and he will be the Earl of Stonebridge one day just like my papa.”
“Blue it is.” Marcus laughed with everyone else but the duke.
Out of the corner of her eye, Milli could see Roderick’s hand halt as he was about to raise his fork. The duke’s features were etched in stone. Blue was for the boy he might have lost, Milli thought with a frown. And then, there were the two babies before that.
The duke’s chair scraped against the floor. “If you will excuse us ladies. I need to speak to Clayton, Stephen, and Marcus for a few minutes.”
The words were more of a command. All the brothers stood, following the duke into his library.
As the men entered the hall, Milli rose from her seat to follow. She tapped Marcus on the shoulder. He turned, his brows raised in surprise.
Milli wasn’t going to hold a grudge now. It had been a terrible night, and she had to put things into perspective. Jane came first.
“Yes?” he said, his face not showing any emotion.
“Keep the duke busy for a while, would you, please?”
“What?”
“Keep him busy. Lizzie doesn’t need him in Jane’s room all day.”
Marcus glanced at the duke and scowled. “He won’t listen to me. He won’t listen to anyone.”
Milli’s eyes narrowed. “Well, figure something out. If you have to, take him shopping with you and Gabby.”
Marcus lifted a shocked brow. “Hell’s teeth. You must be insane. The duke doesn’t shop with children.”
“Maybe it’s time he did. Gabby can keep the two of you on your toes and that’s just what he needs. And I would watch that language if I were you!”
Marcus looked down at her with a grimace. “I don’t see how I am going to get that man out of this house. He won’t leave Jane unless he knows she’s better.”
Milli thought for a second. “Very well. I will have to take matters into my own hands then.”
Marcus froze. “I would not be in favor of that.” He leaned toward her. “Have you been nipping at the brandy again?”
She glared back at him. “Perhaps I will at a later time.”
He frowned.
And on that note, Milli strode into the duke’s library with Marcus on her heels.
Roderick looked up from behind his mahogany desk. “Millicent?”
“I forgot a book last night.”
Roderick nodded and took a seat in his grand leather chair. Milli grabbed the leather bound Shakespeare book and walked toward the duke.
He lifted his head to watch her approach. His piercing gaze made her tremble. He was back in duke mode. “Is there something else?” His tone was as frosty as the Thames in winter.
She swallowed. Should she try two for two? “Yes, there is something else. I need you to go shopping with Gabby and Marcus.”
A brittle silence settled over the room. She could feel the brothers staring at her as if she had just asked the formidable duke to jump in the lake.
“No.” His reply was curt and final.
She leaned against his desk. “It’s for your own good.”
“No.”
“Confound it, Your Grace! You cannot smother Jane after she lost that baby. She needs to heal. Lizzie will console her. If you sit by her side all day and night, you will remind Jane of everything she lost. Do you want that?”
The color drained from the duke’s face. Milli thought that perhaps she had gone to far.
“Millicent!” Marcus yanked her from his brother’s side. “Have you forgotten yourself?”
There was a chill in the room that was not from the weather. The duke shuffled some papers, studied one in particular, then set it aside.
Milli wanted to sink beneath the Aubusson rug and hide. But she had done this for Jane. Yet, what in the world had she been thinking? She rested her book on the duke’s desk and bowed her head, afraid to look at him. “Forgive me, Your Grace. I have a big mouth.”
Milli knew that shopping was the last thing a Clearbrook man wanted to do.
A few seconds of pained silence passed before the duke cleared his throat. He stared at the papers on his desk. “Perhaps I do, uh, smother her. If I had not—” He cleared his throat. “Very well.” He looked up at his brother. “I will go with you Marcus. You and Gabby.”
Marcus’s jaw dropped. He stared at Clayton whose eyes had widened in shock. Stephen could only stare at the duke in utter horror.
Milli pursed her lips, turned, and eyed Marcus with triumph written on her forehead as she strode from the room. Well, would wonders never cease?
Marcus sank into the wing chair and blinked in awe as Roderick waited for the door to close. What kind of spell did Milli have over his brother?
The duke glanced up from his desk, fingering the note in his hand. “Gentlemen, we have a problem that has come to my attention. This missive has been delivered from the Home Office.”
Marcus sat forward. He had never seen his brother so fatigued, so sad, as if something inside him had died. “Perhaps it would be best to have this conversation another time.”
Clayton agreed. “There is no need to rush matters. Home Office or not. Sometimes we must think of family.”
Stephen walked toward the desk and put his hand on the duke’s shoulders. “We have been involved in politics so much that I fear we have lost sight of what is important. We share your loss, and if there is anything we could do—”
Roderick’s face turned to each brother, his eyes blazing. “Are you all quite finished?”
Marcus smiled. Now, this was the duke speaking. “I believe you have something to say. Spit it out.”
Roderick’s eyes turned stormy. “This note is in regards to William Shelby. I received it personally, from the general last night. I meant to speak with you after the supper ball.” He tapped the paper against his desk, frowning. “But other things came to my attention.”
“Something about Shelby’s will?” Marcus asked, thinking about Milli.
Stephen glanced at Roderick, his expression concerned. “I thought we were done with that. Shelby was my father-in-law. The man died two years ago in his sleep. The will was read. His daughters inherited everything. End of story.”
Roderick grimaced. Marcus puckered his brow.
“He’s dead,” Stephen continued. “I don’t want to start anything. My solicitor firmly explored any other matters pertaining to his last will and testament. I believe we covered everything that was needed to secure the inheritance for Lizzie and Milli. Not that I care a bit. Would rather the money wasn’t there. But I won’t have my wife subjected to any more questions.”
Roderick glared at his youngest brother. “Is that all?”
Stephen colored. “Well, I can only assume this has to do with the money. And I can only presume someone wants a part of it.”
Marcus felt an icy chill snake down his spine. “It does have to do with his money though?” he asked, afraid to hear the answer.
Roderick’s face was grim. “In a way. As I said, I received this missive yesterday from the general. However, a few days ago, I had some business with the Home Office. It was there where I was informed of the circumstance regarding Shelby. This only confirms my suspicions.”
Stephen sat on the corner of Roderick’s desk. “I can’t fathom anything more than a problem with the will. Unless someone is coming forward saying Shelby owed them money.”
Roderick kept tapping the paper against his palm, annoyance written across his face.
Marcus watched the interplay between the youngest and oldest Clearbrook males. It would have been fascinating to let it go on. Stephen was acting quite the know-it-all, while Roderick was quickly losing his patience. It was hard enough for the duke today, he didn’t need to add to his troubles.
Marcus stretched out his feet and glared at Stephen. “Shut up. Let Roderick have his say.”
Clayton had the audacity to chuckle.
Marcus shot him a cold look, and the man’s grin only increased.
“I am only agreeing with you,” Clayton replied, his eyes smiling.
Stephen stiffened. “I am only giving everyone the lay of the land. William Shelby was family. His death two years ago was quite a shock. But dying in his sleep was not a bad way to go. At least my wife didn’t have to see him suffer a lingering death.”
Roderick shot from his chair, shoving the note toward Stephen. “Did it ever occur to you that perhaps Shelby did not die in his sleep?”
Stephen jerked. “The devil, you say!”
Marcus rose slowly from his seat, realizing the implications of Roderick’s words. He suddenly recalled the general’s words last night. Murder, Marcus. Cold blooded murder. “Thunderation. Are you saying Shelby was murdered?”
Roderick’s lips became a firm line of disgust. “That’s exactly what I’m saying.”
Stephen let loose with a string of curses. “Why? His daughters received the money. There was no one else who received anything.”
The duke raised a brow. “I hate to say it, but some may think you were the culprit.”
Stephen paled. “I hope that is not why the Home Office informed you instead of me.”
“No. I was informed, because I had my suspicions. But have no worries, you Stephen, are not on the list of suspects.”
Marcus’s eyes glittered with rage as he stared at the note on the desk. “Shelby was one of the richest men in England. There has to be a motive.”
Stephen combed a frustrated hand through his brown hair. He glanced at the duke. “Two years have passed? Why did this come to their attention now?”
Roderick shrugged. “At the time of death, the doctor sent me his suspicions when he saw the body. He suspected possible poisoning, but he could not be sure. No other allegations were made. The magistrate stated death by natural causes.”
Stephen slammed a hand against the duke’s desk. “This is two years too late! We cannot search the premises or people to look for poison now. That thought is ludicrous.”
Roderick sat back in his chair and let out a tired breath. “Ludicrous, but true.”
Marcus snatched the letter off the desk. “It seems Shelby seemed to have had an inkling someone might kill him.” He looked up, frowning. “Shelby’s original letter with that information is at the Home Office. A maid found it while she was sorting out Shelby’s clothes.”
“What?” Stephen asked, his voice suspicious. “Why didn’t she give me the letter? I am her employer.”
Roderick snorted. “I believe she thought you might be involved.”
Stephen swore.
Marcus shook the paper. “Says right here, she discovered the letter last week. The Home Office compared Shelby’s signature to other papers. The letter was dated the day before Shelby died, but never sent.”
Stephen growled. “Confound it. I was finally having the maid clean everything out, so Elizabeth wouldn’t have to go through it. I never imagined . . .”
Clayton joined his brothers at the desk, taking a look at the letter. “Hell’s bells, a murderer in our midst.”
Roderick crossed his arms over his chest, his frosty expression mimicking the rest of the gentlemen. “The point is, why did he do it? And who is he?”
Stephen let out a low rumble of frustration. “I wanted to box Shelby’s ears a few times, especially before I married Elizabeth. You do remember the wager I lost, and his edict that I marry his unseen daughter? I lost that wager, but won the prize. I admit, I hated the man at first. And I never got over how he had used Elizabeth. Yet there was a genuine warmth about the man once you got to know him.”
Clayton frowned. “Warmth is debatable. But as to the wager, we remember all too well. Shelby was an excellent card player, even won money from Prinny. Good sums in fact. Now that Prinny’s the king, I don’t know if anyone is allowed to win that much from the Crown.”
Stephen clenched his hands on the edges of the desk. “It hurts me to say this, but what if England wanted him dead. Our dear king may have ordered it. Heard he was not too fond of Shelby for a few months. They, of course, got a long quite well later, but I hesitate to take that piece of information out of the equation.”
Marcus’s lips thinned. He hadn’t been too fond of William Shelby either, but Milli had missed her father and had cried for two months straight. Elizabeth had suffered just as much. Not liking a man was not a reason to kill him, even for the king. But then again, he thought about Napoleon and the French revolution. Who knew what went on behind closed doors.
Clayton’s gaze glittered with contempt. “If that is our motive, I hazard to think whom we shall call out first, our very own king?”
Roderick shook his head. “No, I don’t believe England wanted Shelby dead. But it seems the Home Office has two thoughts on this.”
Marcus walked toward the window. He thought about Milli and how she would take the information. No doubt, the female would try finding the murderer herself. The very notion sent his pulse racing.
“Let me guess,” Marcus said. “The first thought is that someone wanted revenge. That is the biggest motive in murder, is it not?”
“Go on.” Roderick poured himself a glass of wine from the rosewood sideboard across the room. “It may be early in the morning, but confound it, I need a drink.”
The others moved to join him.
Marcus picked up a glass, raising the red liquid to his lips. He halted, looking over the rim of the crystal. “Are we certain this is not poisoned?”
Roderick let out a sad laugh. “Devil take it. Two years have passed. If the culprit wanted to poison the lot of us, I suppose he could have done it a while ago.”
“To Shelby,” Stephen said, lifting his glass.
“To Shelby,” the brothers said in unison and downed a good swallow.
Marcus stared at the half empty glass and frowned. “Of course, there is the another motive.” He paused and looked at the men. “Greed.”
Stephen’s expression turned hard. “If you are suggesting I killed the man for his money—”
“The devil! Not you! Someone else.”
Clayton rested his glass on the mantel. “Why not? Money seems the obvious motive. Someone could have killed Shelby to steal from him.”
“But the money is gone,” Stephen said. “His daughters have it now.”
Marcus finished off his wine, his mind churning with thoughts of someone murdering Milli’s father in cold blood. Why kill the man?
His hand jerked. Because they needed to acquire the money through the daughters!
“And that is our answer, gentlemen,” Marcus said with steel in his voice. “The daughters.”
A brittle silence fell over the room.
Stephen’s eyes glazed over with rage. “Confound it! Are you suggesting Milli?”
Clayton folded his body onto the sofa. “What devil would kill a man, then go after the daughter who inherits his money? It’s heartless.”
Roderick poured another glass of wine. “Heartless? Look at the English throne. Queens were killed. Wives were beheaded. And it was all done by ones who were supposed to love them. Even princes disappeared when they were only children. Humans are very capable of doing the worst.”
Stephen glared at the men. “Elizabeth can’t ever know.”
Marcus nodded. “Neither should Milli. Heaven help us if she discovers someone killed her father. I hesitate to think that she may go after the man with a butter knife.”
Roderick’s lips curled into a wry smirk. “Devil take it. The murderer will be running from the house.”
Marcus took his seat and frowned. “If our theory is true, then some man is out there waiting to marry Milli.”
The duke nodded. “That’s the only way he can acquire the funds.”
Stephen curled his hand into a fist. “As her guardian, I can make certain the money stays in her name!”
Clayton jerked his head Stephen’s way. “Hell’s bells! You believe that will work against a murderer? After they are married, he could do anything to that girl. Have you forgotten what happened to Briana’s sister? Or for that matter, what happened to Briana. The man who stalked her was mad. Mad enough to try to kill her and himself! He killed her sister. That was too close for me. The murderer might be planning to ruin Milli, and then where would she be? She would have to marry.”
Marcus grimaced. Clayton had almost lost his wife to a madman. That wasn’t going to happen to Milli. “Well, what the blue blazes are we going to do about this? We can’t let Milli marry some fortune hunter who murdered her father! And I am thinking that is the man’s plan.”
Roderick palmed his hand in the air. “We do not have proof that the murderer wants to marry Milli. We don’t even know if it’s a man. It’s only a theory.”
“But a deuced good theory, if you ask me,” Marcus replied, his anger mounting. “A man could break every bone in her body without even thinking twice.”
Roderick stuffed the note into his desk, rubbing his temples. “That delicate female is everything kind and gentle. We must guard her with our lives, as we would any of our women. Hopefully, we are wrong, and the culprit murdered Shelby because of a debt he owed the man and nothing more.”
“I don’t think so,” Marcus spat. “My gut tells me he is after Milli.”
Stephen leaned against the ladder near the bookshelves. “I agree with Marcus. My knee-jerk reaction tells me the villain has been lurking in the shadows, waiting for Milli to come of age. She didn’t truly inherit the money until she was eighteen. That was three months ago.”
He pushed off the ladder, sending it colliding against the wall with a bang. “Hell’s teeth, the man will have to go through me to marry her. I am her guardian until she turns twenty-one. And to tell you the truth, until we discover who this man is, I won’t allow her to marry at all!”
Marcus let out a twisted smile. “Good luck with that. At this very moment, the money is at her disposal, even if you have the power to deny her suitor.”
“True. But the majority of her spending is to charities.”
Marcus sighed. “Gentlemen, we are in a devil of a coil.”
”Confound it,” Clayton snapped, glancing at the closed door. “Then, what the hell are we going to do about it t?”
Roderick stood and buttoned his jacket. “Perhaps we could find Milli a suitable husband, just as we did with our sister Emily. Just a thought...”
Marcus frowned. Something protective sprang in his heart. “You have to be jesting? A husband? She’s just out of the schoolroom!”
Though Marcus knew Milli was no longer a child, he didn’t want to think of her married to some man. He didn’t even like the thought of some man kissing Milli. The very idea of her in some other man’s arms—
“But if our theory is correct,” Stephen remarked, interrupting Marcus’s thoughts. “What is there to stop the killer from murdering Milli’s husband? I fail to see the logic in this.”
Clayton nodded, his expression grim. “He’s right. We must find the villain now. Before he does more damage.”
Roderick glared at Clayton. “What is your idea then?”
“We have a party in the country.”
Stephen’s eyes lit up. “Lure the mouse to the cheese, so to speak? Or rat.”
Clayton looked his way. “Yes.”
Roderick paused, glaring out the window. “Heaven help me, if anyone hurts one hair on her head, I’ll pound the man to the ground.”
“I don’t like it,” Marcus snapped.
Roderick pinned him with a daggered gaze. “Why the devil not?”
Marcus glared back at the duke. He was recalling that kiss in the library. The vulnerability in Milli’s face had pierced his heart. He would not let her be a target. Not his little princess, no matter how angry she was toward him now. “Because Milli is too innocent. We cannot subject her to this.”
Roderick’s eyes flashed. “You think we want to do this? Hell and thunderation, we are putting her in danger if we don’t.”
Marcus took a step toward the duke. “I said, I don’t like it.”
Clayton walked between the two men. “And that is precisely why we will be there. Let’s think about this plan of ours over the next few days and reconvene on the specifics later.”
“Fine.” Marcus took a deep breath, realizing Roderick was trying his best. The man had been through hell the last twenty-four hours, and he was trying to help Milli, not hurt her.
Marcus sliced his hand through the air. “But this goes no further than this room.”
Stephen lifted his head. “Stonebridge will have to be informed.”
”Of course.” Marcus knew Emily’s husband would be another ally in their search for the murderer.
But he didn’t like to think of Milli in the middle of this. Hell’s bells, he would be attached to her like a flea on a dog the next few months, whether the female liked it or not.
And finding a husband for Milli? Marcus was hoping they would find the culprit before it would come to that!
“And I specifically do not want Emily informed about any of this,” Roderick commanded. “None of the women must know a thing.”
They all agreed.
With a somber expression, Marcus started for the door and glanced over his shoulder at the duke. Recalling his shopping excursion, an amusing glint danced in his eyes as he spoke. “Ah, sir Dukie, we will be leaving in fifteen minutes for our little expedition. From experience, I suggest you have your valet set out a good pair of walking boots. It’s going to be a long and tedious outing.”
Clayton laughed, lightening the mood. “Oh, yes, sir Dukie, bring your pocketbook. And if Gabby is anything like our dear Emily, you will need to draw from the bank!”