Page 72 of A Kiss Of Lies

Who on earth would have gone to such elaborate lengths to discredit him? He sat in his large, high-backed chair and mentally went over the list of men he thought might want to see him brought to his knees.

Joseph Trent, his father’s younger brother, was the only person who would benefit from his demise. Without a son, Christian’s title and estate would revert to Joseph. But the man was well into his sixth decade and had little interest in society. Christian didn’t believe it was him. Joseph had never married and therefore had no heir. Christian had always suspected Joseph kept to himself because he preferred men to the ladies. If this rumor was true, Joseph would not seek the limelight.

No, it wasn’t Joseph.

Had he grievously offended anyone recently or, for that matter, in the past? There had been the obvious manly fights, usually over women, but as he’d never before cared deeply about any woman, these were unlikely to be the cause.

His head throbbed with a mixture of tiredness and frustration. Planning a strategic defense would be so much easier if he knew who his enemy was. At the moment, he was totally in the dark.

The tumbler dropped from his fingers onto the table, luckily not tipping over. A sudden flash of inspiration made his stomach clench. Could this be about his father? Was it revenge on the Markham name because of something his father had once done? In all reality, this made more sense.

He needed to make a list of potential perpetrators. He rubbed a hand over his face. Christ, it would be a long list. He’d need Roberts’s help, for the butler was the one who knew the most about his father’s crimes, those committed when Christian was a young boy as well as those perpetrated when Christian was an adult and living away from Henslowe Court.

He sat at his desk and pulled out the folder containing correspondence and information from his lawyer. But the print swam before his eyes. Even in his exhaustion, his head was still full of Serena.

His Serena. The thought of her made a small smile break over his lips. He drew in a deep breath. He could still smell her fragrance on his clothes. Her scent, her smile, her taste, was forever with him . . . God, how he wanted her.

He should concentrate on seeing her free first. Then he’d fight to ensure she stayed his.

Just as he’d begun to devise instructions for his lawyer regarding the appropriate strategy to employ in Serena’s case, his concentration was interrupted by a commotion outside his study. Minutes earlier, he’d heard the horses in the street below. He had assumed it was the neighbors returning from some ball or other. It was, after all, early in the morning.

However, the commotion outside his front door continued, and shortly thereafter, a knock sounded at the study door and Roberts entered.

“What are you still doing up? I will be working for a few hours more. You may as well go to bed.”

“You have visitors, my lord.”

“At this hour?”

He glanced up and was surprised to see Hadley standing behind the butler. Hadley looked so somber, his heart almost stilled in his chest. He instantly knew that the men standing at his study door had come for Serena.

She’d stepped forward to clear his name, at great risk of the hangman’s noose. He owed her everything for that, but more important, he loved her.

He’d get them to agree to remand her into Lady Coldhurst’s custody until the trial. He would not let her be held in a prison cell. His title should count for something, along with his honor as a gentleman. He’d hired the best lawyer, and they would build a case of self-defense. Christian hoped she’d agree to tell her story in court. She’d need to be examined by a physician to provide evidence of the abuse.

He sat back in his chair, trying to present a calm façade to face what was to come. He needed a clear head in order to win the first battle and, ultimately, the war.

Before he’d had a chance to take a deep breath, the door to the study flew out of Roberts’s hand and opened wide. Roberts was desperately trying to block the doorway, but a tall, well-dressed stranger pushed Roberts out of the way. The stranger strode into the study, followed by Hadley.

Roberts calmly stated, “I’m sorry, my lord, the gentlemen wouldn’t wait to be introduced. I tried to stop them. . . .”

“Thank you, Roberts. That will be all,” Christian said as two more men entered the study. Hadley looked angry, the other three menacing.

Roberts bowed and left the room, closing the door softly behind him.

“I’ve come for my wife. Where is she?” the stranger demanded without any pleasantries.

At the word “wife” Christian thought he’d heard incorrectly. Then he went cold inside, while his palms became clammy. He knew who this man was.

Peter Dennett was alive and well.

At first relief swamped him. She hadn’t killed Dennett after all. She wouldn’t have to stand trial and wouldn’t have to face the gallows. She could stay at Henslowe Court, with him.

Then reality hit, and his heart rose in his throat. A series of curses issued silently through his lips. He could barely breathe.

She was still married. Married to Dennett.

She wouldn’t be for long, he told himself not if he had anything to say about it. Dennett would never get his hands on her again. He’d kill the man before he’d let that happen.

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