Lord Lucifer Page 11

  “You took control of the money,” Lucas said, verifying the details as he said them aloud. “You took control of Geoffrey’s allowance, which is why he is in such bad straights now.”

  “Yes,” she whispered.

  “And you convinced Oscar to change his will such that Geoffrey wouldn’t beggar the estate as well.”

  She nodded. “Geoffrey wouldn’t manage the land well. Likely not at all.”

  “But you would,” he said.

  She nodded. “He left it to me rather than destroy his tenants’ lives with a bad heir.”

  The constable chose that moment to speak. He pinned her with a hard look. “So, you have the true motive to murder your husband, not Mr. Hough.”

  Lucas couldn’t believe the man’s idiocy. “What motive? She already had control of the money. She had no need to kill anyone.”

  Meanwhile, Elliott was still thinking of the terms of the will. “Isn’t the estate entailed? Doesn’t Geoffrey get it anyway?”

  She shook her head. “Just the castle and the near lands. And the title, of course. But nothing able to sustain itself. And certainly not to fund his lifestyle.”

  “Did he know?” Elliott asked. “Did Geoffrey know that the will had been rewritten?”

  Dianna nodded. “Oscar told him a few weeks ago.”

  Right before Geoffrey’s nastiness had increased. Which was when Elliott had brought Lucas into the household to protect her. It all made sense now. But it was still left to him to voice the biggest problem.

  “And if you were to die?” Lucas asked, voice deadly low. “If the men at Vauxhall had succeeded in killing you?”

  She touched her throat, as she no doubt remembered every detail of the attack.

  “Diana!” Elliott demanded, his voice tight with urgency. “Answer him. If you die—”

  “Then it all goes to Geoffrey,” she said. “It wasn’t meant to stay with me anyway. I was to manage the properties until I married or died, and then it returned to the regular line of succession.” She looked to the ceiling. “It was to give Geoffrey more time to mend his ways.”

  “Or find a way to kill both you and his father,” Lucas said.

  No one said anything to that, which is just as well because it was clear to Lucas that his job of protecting her had just gotten that much harder. Geoffrey had already killed his own father. Nothing would stop him from killing Diana and getting his hands on that money.

  Chapter Fourteen

  What to do?

  Diana stood in the middle of her bedroom, completely frozen with indecision. Her family wanted her to leave for the safety of Elliott’s home. The constable wanted her questioned for murder. And she wanted to hide away from it all, in a place where no one spoke to her of anything beyond what sweet to offer at dinner. How could anyone kill their own father? How had she become so important that her life was threatened? She couldn’t comprehend it.

  In less than twelve hours, she’d been attacked, held by Lucas, and her husband had been murdered. The doctor, the constable, and now the undertaker were here. She’d managed to write notes to Oscar’s children. They would likely arrive soon, and the idea of facing Geoffrey made her sick with dread.

  But as much as Diana wanted to run, she knew she couldn’t. As the eldest daughter of an earl, every aspect of her life had been proscribed by duty to family, duty to her husband’s title, and duty to future generations. It was why she married and how she convinced her husband to turn over the estate management to her. Geoffrey certainly wasn’t going to be an appropriate steward. Which meant she couldn’t run away on the very day her husband perished.

  How would she manage? Her knees could barely support her, and her hands trembled when she did the smallest task.

  “Shall I tell the modiste you need more dresses in black, my lady?”

  Diana turned to her maid with a confused frown. When had she walked into the room? “What?”

  “You have only the one,” she returned kindly as she gestured to the gown Diana already wore. “You’ll be needing more.”

  Of course, she would. “Oh, yes. Thank you, Tina.”

  “And shall I pack you a bag? So that you can stay with your brother?”

  Yes! The word echoed in her head, but she couldn’t voice it aloud. That wasn’t where her duty lay. But rather than say the word, she mutely shook her head.

  “No one would think less of you—” Tina began.

  “I would,” she said tartly. “I would think less of me.” Oscar deserved as much from his wife. He’d been murdered, likely by his own son. She would stand by his side in his death as she had throughout their twelve years of marriage. It was what a proper woman did.

  Tina took the rebuke well, dipping into a curtsey, and Diana saw respect in the woman’s eyes. Diana would do her duty even if it meant Geoffrey had an easy target here. He’d managed to get poison into her home. Should she start questioning everything she ate now? Did she worry that every cup of tea now held a lethal dose of arsenic? What about the eggs she ate for breakfast? The bread that came with every meal? How did she cope with a life where everything was suspect?

  The thought had her dropping into the chair between the fire and the window. She barely noticed when her maid left. She just sat and remembered the many hours she’d spent here as the days of her life slipped by. She’d often wondered if her life would ever change. Well, it had, and now she wished it would stop.

  She heard footsteps as someone entered the room. She knew who it was even as he shut the door and came to kneel down before her. She didn’t open her eyes. If she did, her vision would be filled with him, the man she had been holding while her husband lay dying. The man—if truth be told—she still wanted to touch. But more than that, she wanted to be in his arms while he held the rest of the world at bay.

  “I will go away if you want me to,” Lucas said, his words like the first step into a warm bath. She felt surrounded by his voice.

  “Stay. Please,” she said. She wanted to sit here while he spoke to her in that way. It didn’t matter what he said, only that he used that special timbre of voice.

  “The constable is interviewing everyone. He still tries to implicate you, but the staff is adamant in their love for you. They do not believe you could possibly hurt his lordship.”

  “I wouldn’t. I never—”

  “I know.” His fingers slid up her forearms to stroke the back of her arms just past the elbow. It was a strange place to be touched, and yet she felt it as deeply as any other caress in her life. “I’ve been speaking with everyone as well. I think I know who did it.”

  Her head shot up as she looked into his eyes. “Who?”

  “You have a footman named Donald Fisher?”

  She nodded. “Yes.” Then she grimaced. “He gambles foolishly. I warned him that he would lose his position and worse if he continued to play. I’ve seen other men destroyed by it.” Men like Geoffrey.

  “I don’t think he listened. In fact, I think he gambled against Geoffrey and lost.”

  “Oh.” Such a foolish boy. “Where is he?”

  “I have sent one of my best men to look.”

  She shook her head. “You must find him. He could tell the constable who is behind this. He could testify—”

  “Yes. But I won’t leave you alone, Diana. Until this is done, I will not leave your side unless I am sure of your safety.”

  She bit her lip. “You think Geoffrey will try again.”

  His expression was grim. “I am certain of it.” He took a deep breath, then eased a little closer to her.

  “You must find Fisher.” She tried for a smile and failed.

  He nodded, but it did not soften his expression. If anything, his jaw became more pronounced as he held back whatever he wanted to say.

  “I am too tired to play games, Lucas. What is it that you want to tell me?”

  He nodded once, and she read it as a gesture of respect. And that was rare indeed. “I believe Geoffrey killed his father.
I believe he will stop at nothing to kill you.”

  She blanched. It never got easier to contemplate. “So you’ve said.”

  “I can end this for you, quickly and quietly. You need never fear him again.”

  The relief she felt at just his words made her lightheaded. She’d wished for it all to end for months now. Years even. Ever since it became clear that Geoffrey was not the man his father wanted him to be.

  “How?” she whispered. “How could that be possible?”

  He waited a moment until she looked directly at him. And then he spoke in very soft tones. “I will kill him, Diana.”

  She didn’t think she’d heard him correctly, but the seriousness with which he looked at her froze the breath in her lungs. “You cannot mean to…” She couldn’t even say the word.

  “I am a soldier. I have killed many men—”

  “In a war! This is—”

  “And even then, I fought for less than I do now. Diana, we cannot keep you under guard forever. Eventually, someone will make a mistake, and he will strike.”

  She shook her head, the idea too much for her to absorb. “I will not have you murder for me.”

  He took her hand, covering it where it trembled against her knee. “It will be for me then. My choice. Because you will never be safe until—”

  “No!” She jerked her hand away. And as she shrunk back into her chair, she pressed them to her temples. The world had gone insane.

  “Diana—”

  “Stop!” she said as she dropped her hands and glared at him. “Why would you suggest such a thing?”

  He didn’t answer. Probably because he already had. She was in danger, and he was her protector.

  “Why are you doing this, Lucas? I cannot possibly mean this much to you.”

  He frowned as he looked at her. “I would do anything for you.”

  “That’s ridiculous! We have barely spoken in twelve years! Before a few weeks ago, we have known nothing of each other.”

  “That’s not true,” he said. “I wanted to marry you.”

  “We were children.”

  He blew out a breath, and his tone took on harder notes. “I was old enough to go to war. You were old enough to marry. Even then, we both knew what we wanted.”

  She shook her head. She thought of the silly child she had been then. She had believed in magical possibilities. She’d actually thought the boy of her dreams could find a way to save her from an evil marriage. It hadn’t happened. And even more, she’d discovered her husband wasn’t bad. That it was possible for two strangers of disparate ages to find common ground.

  “I’m nothing like the girl I was then. And you are nothing like that boy.” She touched his face. “You’re a man who understands the consequences of his actions and that nothing is as easy as it seems. And so, I ask you again, why do you profess such…” Her voice trailed away. Neither of them had spoken of “love” since the night before her marriage. She wasn’t even sure she believed in it anymore. And yet he seemed to have no problem at all.

  “Love, Diana. That is what I profess for you. Pure and simple love.”

  She shook her head, rejecting the notion. “You cannot mean that. We don’t even know each other!”

  “But we do. I do. And I have thought of you every day since your wedding. Your image pulled courage from me when I was afraid. I recalled your laughter during battles and your smile in the endless times between. My fever dreams were of you. My waking dreams, as well. They were all of you.”

  “They were dreams. And they are much too insubstantial to let them dictate your actions.”

  “No,” he said. “No!” He gripped her hands and pulled them to his mouth. “Diana, dreams are the only things that should dictate our actions. And for the dream of your safety, I will end this problem for you.”

  End her problem? “That’s a clever way of speaking of murder. You could be hanged!”

  “Have more faith in me than that. With the places he frequents, a knife in the gut—”

  “Stop!” She pushed him away as she jumped to her feet. “Just stop!” She paced to her bed and back. Not once but three times, and with every step, she grew more agitated. He was speaking nonsense, and yet the seductive power of it was clear. It was the height of romantic fantasy. He was her knight in shining armor, sweeping away her troubles with a flash of his bright sword. “You cannot rescue me, Lucas. Not that way.” Then she slowed, her steps faltering as her mind finally began to work logically. She looked at him. He had risen to his feet as well, and so now she had to tilt her head. His hard jaw seemed cut from stone as he looked down at her. He might as well be a Grecian statue of a warrior in his prime.

  “Diana—”

  “Why did you ask me?”

  He blinked. “What?”

  She swallowed. “A knife in the dark.” She shuddered. “You hardly needed my permission for that. Why did you come here and ask me such a thing?” It didn’t escape her that this was the exact place where he’d been holding her a few hours before. Here where she had broken down into emotion and need as she sought comfort in his arms. “You could have done it and told me after. Or not at all.”

  “Is that what you want? The deed done, and you none the wiser?”

  “No!” She was emphatic on that point. “Absolutely not!” If such a thing were to be done in her name, then by God, she would know it and not shirk from the fact.

  “That is why,” he said. Then his shoulder lifted in a small shrug. “I did not know what you would want, and I feared…”

  His voice trailed off, and she nearly stumbled as she tried to follow his thoughts. “The hangman’s noose?” she asked. “Perhaps missing the mark and getting a knife set in your ribs instead?” The very words tasted hideous in her mouth.

  He raised his hands in a helpless gesture. “I feared losing your regard. You are a proper lady, Diana, and I mean that with all reverence. I would not have you despise me for this act.”

  “Only for the offering of it?”

  He flinched at that, and she regretted her words. She didn’t hate him for the offer. Merely that it seemed so very appealing to her when she should despise it from the very core of her being.

  Lucas took a step forward, coming close enough to touch her but not actually reaching her. “I wanted you to know all your options. You have been making your way on your own for so long, Diana. I knew you would want control of the next steps.” Then he lifted his chin. “I can lift the burden from you if you want. I would shoulder this for you if I could.”

  “It is my responsibility! My duty and my—”

  “Promise to a husband you didn’t want, to his family who despises you, to generations that may not be. Damn it, Diana, when will you choose for you? What do you want?”

  She stared at him, fury building up inside her. Anger, hatred, and all those black emotions that she so carefully locked away. They burst from her in a scream that tore through her throat. It was loud and raw and didn’t make a dent in the emotions tearing through her. Without even planning it, she started raining blows down on him. It was how he made her question things she believed were absolute. And how he made her feel everything. Pain, fear, desire—all of these emotions had been locked away for so long. Why did he insist on making her feel?

  He took her blows without flinching. He let her beat at him again and again until he was cradling her in his arms as she sobbed against his chest. She gasped and cried and wanted to rip out her own heart for the display, but she could not stop.

  “Shh,” he said. “It’s all right. It will be all right.”

  Nothing would be all right ever again. “I hate you,” she rasped, though she didn’t mean it.

  “You have that right. I should have married you twelve years ago and damn the consequences.”

  She snorted. “Starving would have been better for us? Neither of us had any way to survive.”

  “Maybe. Who is to tell?”

  She said nothing. He held her with his li
ps pressed to her forehead. And he whispered such things as only lovers would say. That he would take care of every detail. That it would be just as she wanted when nothing was at all what she wanted.

  “Do you know why I hate you?” she asked when he finally ran out of nonsense to say.

  “Why?”

  “Because you make me feel, Lucas. You always have. And it has been so long since anything has touched my heart.”

  He took those words from her. And in the end, he pressed his lips to her temple.

  “I understand that very, very well.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  Diana didn’t say any more. She simply allowed the feelings to wash through her as he held her. Safety and gratitude welled up, but also a dark, blind fury at everyone and everything. She didn’t want to feel that. It ate at her insides and choked off her breath. She focused instead on the feel of a man’s arms around her body. There was strength in him, enough to carry her for a time, and she couldn’t ever remember feeling that since her father had lifted her up while she still wore leading strings.

  A knock sounded at her bedroom door, and she silently cursed Simpson as he spoke through the heavy wood. “Your mother has arrived, my lady.”

  “My mother?” she mouthed as she looked at Lucas. “Did you send for her?”

  He shook his head as he released her. Then he stepped toward the door and raised a brow in question. Did he open the door? She nodded. Might as well. All the staff likely knew she’d been behind closed doors with Lucas.

  With a nod, Lucas opened the door and stood to the side. Simpson looked every hour of his fifty-seven years, but he still bowed to her with the elegance of a man half his age. “The dowager countess says she has come at your hour of need to provide comfort.”

  If his words were sarcastic, she didn’t hear it. But in her mind, she heard every self-serving, dramatic word her mother must have uttered. And with those images came a rage that climbed up her throat and began to choke her. The nerve of that woman coming to comfort her when it was her fault that Diana was in this situation in the first place. Lucas blamed himself for being unable to rescue her from her marriage. Diana blamed her mother for foisting it on her in the first place. And at this moment when the floodgates to her emotions stood wide open, Diana would eviscerate her mother for daring to show her face—