Page 6 of Murder in Matrimony
The Mayfair Marauder terrorized families in Mayfair, breaking into their homes and stealing their most prized heirlooms. Supposedly, the identity of this bandit is known by you, yet you allow the person to go unreprimanded. That decision does not belong to a penny paper authoress but to the Metropolitan Police. If you do not name the bandit at once, I will name you. I have determined your true identity and will unveil it to one and all without warning. Do not doubt it, and do not cross me. If you do, your family will pay the price.
Devotedly,
A Concerned Citizen
Dear Readers,
The above letter was sent to me by a fellow reader, and after fretting over it for nearly a week, I decided the best response was to print it in its entirety. This is not the first time I have been threatened, even by this reader, but I do hope it will be the last. I took up the pen in earnest, doing what I can with the ability and passion I possess. I endeavor to do right with each response, and while you might not always agree with me, I hope you will respect my decisions. When it comes to the one concerning the Mayfair Marauder, I made it with the purest intentions. I will not reverse course.
Yours in Secret,
Lady Agony
The next day, when the paper arrived, Amelia scanned it and tossed it on the stack of afternoon mail. Knowing the letter was forthcoming didn’t make it any easier tosee in print. She had cringed reading her own words. How could she have been so dense? The response would help no one. In fact, other readers might rally around the author, A Concerned Citizen. They might take the writer’s side, agreeing that indeed Amelia should identify the jewel thief in her column.
She wouldn’t do it in a hundred years, or even a thousand. Lord Drake was a kind person. Yes, he’d stolen Tabitha’s famed diamond brooch, but he’d also returned it. In the meantime, he and Amelia had become very good friends, and she’d no more turn him over to the police than Kitty Hamsted, who was expected at her house any moment. The only person who knew his identity was Simon, and that was because they’d been partners in the investigation. He’d understood why she’d kept his identity secret. Lord Drake’s reputation would be ruined if she revealed his thievery in her column. Whether or not the Metropolitan Police would be able to charge him with a crime didn’t matter. He would never be welcomed into polite society again.
When the library door opened, she looked up, anticipating a much-needed conversation with Kitty over a cup of tea. What she saw, however, was Simon storming the room with the paper tucked under his armpit. She closed her eyes briefly. Knowing his penchant for overreacting, she hadn’t told him about the blackmailer. He had no idea she was being harassed. She opened her eyes and met the fury in his.
He did now.
“Lord Bainbridge to see you, my lady,” the butler announced in a winded voice.
“What in God’s name were you thinking?” Simon asked.
“That’ll be all, Jones,” Amelia said. “Thank you.”
Jones shut the door.
“Well?” Simon prodded.
“Please calm yourself.” Amelia motioned to the chair across from her desk. “I do not need the neighbors overhearing your outburst.”
He folded himself into it like a petulant child who had just been told he couldn’t have a second dessert. “I am not calm,Amelia. Imagine opening the papers to find your closest confidante is being blackmailed, and you yourself were unaware of the situation.”
Despite his grave tone, her lips turned up in pleasure. “I am your closest confidante?”
He didn’t return her smile.
“I would be upset, naturally.”Undonewould have more accurately described it, but she kept that to herself. “I wouldn’t be unmanageable, however. I’d realize that my confidant was capable of making his own decisions.”
“Even when those decisions involve other loved ones, including dear family friends?” He ran a hand through his black hair. The result was a distracting loose wave covering his forehead. Amelia imagined it looked this way at sea after a strong burst of wind did its work.
She refocused on the topic. “You’re right. I should have told you. You’ve been friends with the Amesburys for years and deserved to know our reputation may be in peril.”
“I don’t give a damn about anyone’s reputation!” He grasped the arms of the chair as if to keep himself from becoming unmoored. “I care about family. I care aboutyou.”
She knew he did, but it was still nice to be told. There was a time in their relationship when he wouldn’t have expressed the notion as vocally—or passionately. Although the circumstances could be better, she saw it as positive progress. “I apologize.”
He opened his mouth in surprise, as if ready to contradict her, then closed it. “How many letters have you received from the blackmailer?”
“Three.” She pointed at the letter to Lady Agony. “That was the third, and before you ask, it was the most threatening.”
He inhaled a sharp breath. “Three letters. The person is determined.”
“It would appear so. But I am determined, too. I refuse to have my decision undermined.”
“And I refuse to have your safety jeopardized.” His words were no louder than a whisper, but their intention was clear. He planned to be her protector, her savior. The problem wasshe didn’t need saving. Mr. Cross had made her question the reason behind her action, but that didn’t mean she didn’t stand by the action itself. In fact, it might even work. If it didn’t, she had other avenues of recourse, none of which included Simon Bainbridge brandishing a shield or sword.
