Chapter Fourteen #3
“I’m sorry to hear that,” Bright murmured in a near whisper. “What is the second reason?”
It was Miss Bentley who answered this time.
She tightened her fingers on her fiancé’s arm.
“In the early days of Johnathon’s courtship of me—which began three years ago—I had attended a ball.
It was where Johnathon and I met, actually.
” Her chin quivered. “That evening I’d suffered from a megrim and was seeking out the ladies’ retiring room.
Stupidly, I became disoriented in the corridors and lost my way.
That’s when Boddingford found me. He ushered me into a parlor, I thought to settle me while he found Johnathon, but instead, he… ”
“I can guess,” Mary said as she laid a hand on the girl’s arm. In a voice little more than a whisper, she asked, “He raped you, didn’t he?”
“Yes.” When a few tears fell to the young woman’s cheeks, Lord Arsdale slipped an arm around her waist. “I fought, told him no, but he didn’t care.
He told me he was a duke and could do what he wanted without consequence.
Regardless, I fell pregnant, and was too embarrassed and ashamed for a long while after that, but Johnathon wouldn’t give up his courtship, much to his father’s consternation. ”
The young lord continued the tale. “Eventually, she told me what had happened. I wanted to kill my father then.”
Bright nodded. “So you waited until no one would remember that night and then you killed him?”
“No.” He shook his head. “I’m not a violent person; I simply walked away from him and the family. My loyalty lay with Miss Bentley, always has.”
Mary frowned. “What happened to the babe?”
Miss Bentley dabbed at her eyes with a handkerchief.
“I miscarried four months in. It took some time to recover, and since I didn’t tell my father what had happened, he assumed I was merely sick and needed rest. Thank God for that, since no one could call me ruined.
My father sent me to Brighton for a while. ”
“I visited her there every chance I had,” Lord Arsdale added quickly. “In fact, I live there now, and once we marry, that’s where we’ll remain. I want nothing to do with London society.”
Such a sad story, but one not surprising throughout the ton. “Did Miss Bentley stab the duke after the fact? There must have been rage there.”
“I didn’t,” the younger woman said with the shake of her head. “Honestly, I just didn’t want to have anything else to do with the family. In fact, I almost walked away from Johnathon, but I love him too much.”
Mary nodded. “Why haven’t the two of you married? You seem like quite a strong couple. Why put it off? Life is short.”
The young man nodded. “I know that but…” Then he heaved out a sigh. “I’m a nodcock, I suppose. I’d been putting it off due to knowing all of this, and perhaps I’ve been ashamed of my beginnings.”
“As am I.” His fiancée turned to him and rested a palm on his chest. “I don’t care about any of that. You shouldn’t either, and I suppose I should take my own advice.”
“I know.” He bounced his gaze between Mary and her husband. “Talking to you now? I realize none of it matters. None of it was Miss Bentley’s fault; none of it was my fault. We need to rise above our pasts and live for our futures.”
Tears misted Mary’s own eyes. “That is exactly how loves works, Lord Arsdale.” She sniffled. “Marry, and soon. Make a beautiful life and put all this behind you, because you’re right. None of it matters to those who truly love you.”
Bright put a hand on her shoulder, and she took comfort in that. “Where were you both the night the duke was killed?”
The young lord stared back with nothing but honesty in his expression.
“In Brighton. We didn’t come to Town until yesterday after being sent a missive with a courier.
My youngest sister was the one who told me.
No one else cared to do the courtesy.” He huffed.
“I may have hated my father for a variety of reasons, but I didn’t kill him, and neither did my fiancée. ”
“Did you know Mr. Corbett well?”
He shook his head. “Not really. When I was in Town, sometimes I’d meet him at a club with his friend, Henry. We all got along and were just trying to make our way through the world. But Anthony had secrets of his own; we bonded over how miserable Boddingford made our lives.”
Bright nodded. “Did Mr. Corbett tell you of the duke’s plan to let his wife inherit nearly everything if he would divorce her… or kill himself?”
“No, but he said he and Henry needed to talk, that he needed Henry to draw up paperwork that would keep my sister safe.” Lord Arsdale frowned.
“I miss Anthony, and I blame my father for his death. Anthony was the only one to continually stand up to my father, where the rest of us were too frightened to do so.”
“Understandable.” Bright shook his head. “You’re free to go. We will reach out if we have further questions.”
“Thank you, Inspector.” Lord Arsdale nodded. “As much as I know you need to do your duty, can you not consider that justice has been served in this instance? My father is dead; he can’t hurt or intimidate or ruin anyone else. Isn’t that enough?”
Oddly, Mary couldn’t argue with the logic, but would Bright? That remained to be seen.