Page 63 of My Rogue, My Ruin
“Come, let me see you in.” She stood, bringing Brynn to her feet as well. “Of course, I feel terribly exhausted from my journey. Would you mind if my brother hosted you for tea instead?”
Eloise started for one of the back terraces instead of the kitchens.
“That would be very kind of you,” Brynn said, relieved she hadn’t been made to admit the scandalous truth.
Arm in arm with Archer’s sister, she waltzed into Hadley Gardens’ ballroom. In the quiet, their slippered feet echoed off the vaulted ceilings. Brynn had not seen the ballroom on her visit the evening before, but she found it strange that the terrace doors would be left unlocked and unattended, especially after the events of last night.
“Let us see if Archer has finished his business,” Eloise said as she led them from the ballroom and into a hallway. “I cannot say enough how nice it is to see a friendly face, Briannon, in the midst of all this awful tragedy.”
Brynn smiled, overwhelmed at her kindness. “I feel quite the same.”
The door to the library where Mr. Thomson had questioned everyone earlier was closed. Eloise raised her hand to knock, but an outburst from inside the room made her pause.
“Pray tell, how is that a motive for murder?” Brynn recognized Archer’s rumbling voice immediately.
She glanced at Eloise with wide eyes. Eavesdropping was highly improper, but the girl seemed as disinclined to move as Brynn was.
“At the Gainsbridge Masquerade, you were overheard arguing about Lady Briannon. Marriage was mentioned. Close friends of the late duke’s suggested that you both desired the hand of the lady in question.”
“Close friends,” Archer repeated, his mocking words dripping with acid. “Lord and Lady Rochester? Lady Mayfield, perhaps? An intelligent man would not take their word as gospel, Thomson.”
“You were angry with your father for showing interest in Lady Briannon,” Mr. Thomson hedged.
“Do not be absurd. I had much to be angry with my father for, but the flowers and simpering looks he showered upon Lady Briannon were of no concern to me.”
Brynn winced. That hurt, and unexpectedly, too. Why on earth would he have kissed her those two times if he did not care a whit whether she married his father or not?
“You were absent for a length of time last evening after dinner concluded,” Thomson said, his voice rising to match Archer’s.
“I told you where I was, and whom I was with,” Archer ground out.
“Yes, you did,” Thomson replied. “However, it appears Lady Briannon did not quite tell me the truth ofherwhereabouts. She never went to the sewing room to have her dress mended.”
Brynn stifled a horrified gasp, and Eloise’s eyes found hers. She put a gloved finger to her lips.
It took Archer a moment to respond, and when he did, his attempt at sounding careless was strained. “What are you about?”
The agent did not hesitate. “I believe one of two things happened. You went to the kitchens to leave a note summoning the duke to his study, while the lady slipped off to the study for her own rendezvous with the duke. You arrived, surprised to find her, and shortly after, the duke arrived as well. There was an argument. The duke was killed.”
Archer’s rejoinder was instant, and deadly soft. “You are treading dangerous waters, Thomson.”
“Or,” the agent went on. “You were in the gardens as you claim. Lady Briannon went to the study, summoned for the duke using that note and your name, and upon his arrival—”
“Say another word, and I will remove you bodily from that chair.”
“My apologies, Your Grace,” Thomson said. “But it is my job to consider all avenues. And Lady Briannon lied.”
Eloise tugged on Brynn’s sleeve, her eyes wide with apprehension. “Is what he says true?” she whispered into Brynn’s ear, but Brynn was in shock—shehadlied. Brynn drew Eloise several paces away from the library’s closed door.
“Hawksfield mended my dress,” she whispered in a choked voice. “We were in another room. Alone.”
The shock barely settled on Eloise’s face before a flicker of something sharper, like excitement, lit her eyes. She quickly replaced it with a rueful, sympathetic smile. “As I recall, my brother did have a talent for the needle.”
If her help in the garden was any indication, Brynn knew Eloise would not judge her, not now. She swallowed hard, desperate tears springing to her eyes. “I couldn’t tell Thomson the truth. My reputation would have been compromised beyond repair. And now he suspects me. And…your brother.”
“This is indeed catastrophic,” Eloise continued, her voice low. She took a deep breath and grasped Brynn’s shoulders. “The only thing that would save you and Archer is the announcement of an engagement. Go in there and say that my brother was proposing to you.”
Brynn felt the breath leave her body in a violent sweep at the outrageous suggestion. Announce an engagement, just like that? Without speaking to Archer first and without receiving an actual offer? Her fingers went numb. She considered herself bold at times, but notthatbold. “I cannot.”
