Page 73 of Marigold and the Marquess
Julius cleared his throat. “Is it possible he paid someone to do it? Marigold, don’t bludgeon me for asking. After what you’ve told us, this has to be addressed. I’m not saying he did, just that it is most convenient of him to be in sight of a hundred guests while someone was doing Denby in. No one could ask for a better alibi.”
She stopped pacing and turned to Julius. “Leo would never pay anyone to commit the foul deed. It is completely impossible because he is so obsessed with his need for revenge. In fact, he is not merely obsessed butpossessedby it, body and soul. He would never pass off the chore to someone else.”
Julius held out his hands in surrender. “I am convinced, Marigold. Sorry if I upset you by raising the possibility.”
“No, you were right to question,” Marigold said. “We have to be thorough in our examination of every possibility if we are to help Leo. By Mr. Barrow’s description, it sounded as though Denby died quickly. That is another reason to rule Leo out from committing the crime. He would not have wished the man a quick death. Meeting face to face, wrapping his hands around Denby’s throat and slowly watching him choke to death is what Leo would do.”
Syd appeared startled. “But Leo is not a savage. How could you love him if he were?”
“In this, he is.” Marigold’s voice was ragged. “What does it say about me that I can still love him?”
“He hasn’t actually committed a serious crime yet,” Gory pointed out. “As for his confrontation with Beldon, it was Beldon who tried to stab Leo in the back.”
Marigold nodded. “Well, Leo might have provoked him.”
“Leo was morally in the right to rough up the man. Any husband has the right to warn another man to keep away from his wife,” Octavian said. “Any of us would have responded the same way. Beldon is the cowardly cur who went after Leo while his back was turned. Perhaps he only meant to draw the weapon and wave it in front of his nose or nick his arm, but he had to know the consequences of drawing his weapon for whatever reason. He is fortunate I did not kill him myself. As for Leo, he did nothing out of line.”
That her friends did not consider Leo depraved was a relief to Marigold. She wanted them to see his good qualities and understand the torment that drove an honorable man to seek vengeance. Of course, she was going to stop Leo from doing the wrong thing. Since Beldon had fled to the Continent and Denby was now dead, the likelihood of Leo doing something heinous had dramatically decreased.
However, she could not let down her guard since Leo’s cousin had yet to be dealt with. The man was a dishonorable, scheming weasel, according to Leo.
Was it true?
Or merely Leo rushing to judgment and falsely accusing Lord Cummings?
“Leo means to exact justice…his form of justice,” Marigold told her friends. “And as a caution to all of you, do not believe him if he appears calm when he returns. There is no telling what might set him off because he is taut as a bowstring. Whether he shows it or not, he is furious someone beat him to Denby.”
“As I would be,” Octavian muttered.
Julius grunted in agreement. “So would I, I suppose.”
To everyone’s surprise, Leo arrived home not an hour later.
Marigold tried not to assail him with questions, but she was desperate to learn what had happened. “Let me wash up and then I’ll come down and properly greet you all.”
She quickly excused herself and hurried upstairs with him.
“I don’t need you fussing over me, Marigold.” He sounded surprisingly surly. Well, he was having a hard night, made harder because of her thoughtless actions.
“I know, Leo. But I didn’t want you to be alone.” She poured fresh water from the ewer into the basin on his bureau while he shrugged out of his soiled jacket.
“I am not alone. Mallow is here with me.”
Indeed, Mallow was in the room, nestled at the foot of Leo’s bed. Usually, he would have rushed to Leo, jumping up and down to gain his attention. But even Mallow sensed something was seriously amiss and did not let out so much as a tiny bark.
Marigold was relieved because she did not want her pup distracting Leo. “Did you find out anything more?”
“Clues to the killer?” He shook his head as he plunged his hands into the clean water. It immediately turned red from the blood he washed off. “No.”
He grabbed the soap and began to lather it on his hands.
Marigold’s heart sank.
Was it possible she and her friends had obliterated vital evidence in their heedless rush to be included in the investigation? “I’m so sorry, Leo. Is it anything we did? How can we ever make it up to you?”
Since his hands were now fully soaped, he merely leaned over and surprised her by giving her a gentle kiss on the forehead. “It was nothing any of you did. Don’t fret, Marigold.”
How could she not?
