THE NEXT DAY, at his desk, Derrick sliced open the letter from Bella. Worried about her, he’d given in to the urge to call and see her. He had to ensure himself that she was all right. She’d been through so much, his poor love. He wouldn’t be happy until he had her in his arms again. He opened the letter and read her words.
Dear Lord Eaglestone,
I am writing to advise you that I have had a change of heart concerning Lord Maudling. I beg you not to write to him. It is no longer necessary.
Yours sincerely,
Bella Lacey
Perplexed, Derrick threw the letter down. It was as if their night together had never happened. He rose from behind his desk and stalked the library. Had she decided to marry Maudling after all? A dark net of despair settled over him. Had he been wrong to think Bella cared for him? She’d never told him so. Might she have wanted a dalliance before she married a bore? In which case, it wouldn’t have been necessary to lie to him. He’d have been perfectly happy to oblige. Aware of his own culpability, he raked his hands through his hair. Compassion for her situation quickly dampened his anger. Perhaps she’d lost her nerve and preferred the safety of marriage to Maudling. He could hardly blame her, especially after witnessing him shooting his cousin dead. He spun on his heel and stopped before the fireplace, rested a foot on the fender, and stared into the empty grate. What if her father had arrived home early and was pressuring her into marriage? Dammit, he couldn’t let this go. He had to find out. Striding from the library, he went in search of his valet.
Half an hour later, he left the house, pulling on his gloves. A bobby stood at the bottom on the steps.
“Could you accompany me to Bow Street Police Court, my lord?”
***
As Bella scurried along the passage, her throat ached with unshed tears. As soon as her bedroom door closed behind her, she threw herself on the bed and cried into her pillow. She’d been determined to be brave, but Derrick would believe she’d lied to him after reading the letter Gran made her write, that she’d intended to marry Maudling all along. Would she ever be able to explain? She hated to have him think ill of her.
The next morning, Bella woke with a headache. She’d received no word from Derrick in reply to her letter. Of course, he wouldn’t wish to see her.
She was about to ring for tea when sounds erupted from the front hall and footsteps sounded on the stairs. She threw back the covers as the door opened.
Her mother came in, pulling off her hat. “We were forced to leave early; your father had a nasty turn.”
“Oh no!” Bella’s heart raced. Had he heard about her night with Derrick?
“It was just after we attended the wedding.” Her mother sank down on the bed, looking inexpressibly weary.
“Where is Father? I must go and see him.”
“He’s feeling better. You’ll find him in his study.” She rose. “I must change my dress. We’ve been on the road since yesterday. Stayed at the most dreadful inn last night.”
Filled with dread, Bella hurried downstairs. She found her father at his desk reading the mail. “Are you all right, Papa?”
“Better now.” He smiled. “You haven’t called me Papa for years, Bella. Come and give me a kiss.”
Overcome with affection for him, she leaned over and kissed his bristly cheek. He patted her back absently.
“Did you enjoy the wedding?”
“Yes, my dear. A lot of fuss and expense just to tie the knot, if you ask me.”
Financial worry must have made him ill. She was almost glad she’d sent the letter to Derrick. She would marry Lord Maudling. She owed it to Father to save the family.
She would tell him of her decision. “Papa I—“
Her father waved her away with his hand. “I must attend to these bills now, my dear. Run along.”
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
DERRICK’S SOLICITOR met him in a holding cell in the magistrate’s chambers at Bow Street Court. “They can’t keep you here with a trumped-up charge of murder, my lord. It won’t stick. You’ll be home by luncheon.”
Furious at having to spend the night in the cells, Derrick scowled and coiled his fingers around the bars. “I need a few hours’ sleep. Spent the night with bludgers and inebriates. Couldn’t turn my back on ’em. What evidence have you found, Rigby?”
“Located a park gardener who witnessed the whole thing. Took me a while to find him. He’s here now signing a statement.”
“Hector is known to the police,” Derrick said. “There’s been trouble over the years. Then there was that incident some months ago when he winged that flat, Pettigrew, after he cheated at cards. Do we need to employ the barrister who kept Hector out of jail?”
Rigby shook his head. “You could make a big fuss over this outrage, my lord. This is not even going before the court.”