Page 97 of A Scandalous Bargain
“Just where do you think you’re going?” the butler asked.
“Outside. Next door. I need to speak with someone. I promise I am not running away. Come with me, in fact.”
“Sit down,” the butler barked.
“No.” She tried to remain calm despite the frenzy careening through her. “There are Bow Street constablesright next door. I must speak with them. You can tell them anything you want.Please.”
The butler eyed her skeptically, but the footman reached for her arm once more. “I’ll take her. You talk to the constable.”
Beatrix nodded eagerly. “Yes, take me. You can hold on to me the entire time, if you like.”
The butler narrowed his eyes at her. “How do you know they’re constables?”
“Because my brother-in-law is a constable,” she said with considerable exasperation. There was no hiding her identity now or that of her family who wasn’t even really her family. Perhaps she could admit that too, and quietly skulk away without affecting Selina.
If only it were that easy.
The footman led her outside into the bright afternoon. Tom stood on the pavement with the three men.
“Tom!” Beatrix shook her head slightly. “Er, Lord Rockbourne!”
Tom looked past the men surrounding him, his brow furrowed. “Beatrix?” His gaze went to the footman clutching her arm. He stalked toward her, and the others followed, looking alarmed.
“Unhand her,” Tom demanded, his eyes spitting fire at the footman.
“She’s a thief,” the butler said from the other side of Beatrix.
Tom’s gaze softened as he turned his attention to her. “What did you do?” he whispered.
“I am not a thief. I was replacing something that I, er, borrowed.”
That sounded horrible even to her. Because shewasa thief. And she could no longer run from that fact.
She looked up at Tom, her heart breaking that she’d disappointed him like this. “I’m sorry, Tom.” Glancing toward the men behind him, she asked, “Are you going somewhere with these constables?”
“To Bow Street. They want to formally question me.”
The older constable whom Beatrix recognized came forward. “Are you accusing this woman of a crime?” he asked the duke’s butler.
“Yes. She was caught stealing jewelry from His Grace’s house.”
“I was replacing it,” she said through clenched teeth. She refocused on Tom. “Are they going to arrest you?”
“It doesn’t look good. They found hemlock in my liquor cabinet.” His eye twitched.
It was too much. Beatrix closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Opening her eyes, she looked at the constable with the black-and-gray hair. “You probably recognize me, so you should know that I’m a credible person. I saw what happened the night Lady Rockbourne fell.”
“Beatrix.” Tom hissed as color leached from his face.
She ignored him. “I was perched in a tree in Lord Rockbourne’s garden. I saw Lady Rockbourne come toward him with a knife. He avoided her, and she fell. It was horrible, but it wasn’t his fault.” Now she looked back at Tom. She smiled encouragingly before murmuring, “It’s going to be all right.”
Another of the constables, a younger fellow with dark, wavy hair and blue eyes, came forward. “Are you Rockbourne’s mistress?”
A gasp from somewhere to Beatrix’s right made her turn her head. Dread crept over her as she realized a crowd of people was gathered in the square, some in the street even, and were watching her and Tom as if they were performing a spectacle for their enjoyment. She began to shake.
“No,” Tom snapped. “She is not my mistress.”
Beatrix was grateful for at least that.
