Chapter Four #3
“That is a serious accusation,” Sean said, knowing exactly to whom Wimple referred when he mentioned his friend.
Lord, he itched to punch this man in his sneering face but knew Deandra would not approve.
Nor did he wish to rile her father, who appeared confused by the scene and was growing agitated.
“Is my accuser still in Moonstone Landing? I assume ye are referring to Lord Martingale. Ye really ought to be more careful in the company ye keep, Lord Wimple. To be accurate, he is the one who attempted to kill me.”
He raised his shirt to show Constable Angel his bandaged waist.
At the constable’s nod, he lowered his shirt and returned his attention to Wimple. “Rest assured, had I been the one attempting to kill yer friend, he would have been dead. Ye can tell him that I shall be coming for him, so he had better make plans to flee England before I catch up to him.”
The constable cleared his throat. “Captain, you know I maintain a peaceful village.”
Sean nodded. “I have no intention of murdering him, but I am serious about my warning. He had better be out of England by the time I reach London or I shall have him charged with attempted murder.”
Wimple snorted. “And who is to take the word of a nobody against a gentleman?”
Deandra stepped forward, once more indignant on Sean’s behalf.
“I’ll have you know the captain is much more than a gentleman.
Did Lord Martingale neglect to mention to you that the Crown has recognized Captain McTavish as the new Duke of Dearborne?
Has your friend been going around telling everyone he is the duke?
Well, he isn’t. I suggest you distance yourself from your friend immediately, for he will soon be made a laughingstock in London. ”
Doubt seeped into the viscount’s expression. “No…no, this man is feeding you a pack of lies. Everyone knows Martingale is Dearborne’s heir.”
“I am no gullible fool, my lord,” she said more gently. “I have seen the proof. Kindly go home and do not allow this Lord Martingale to take you down with him. Stay out of this Dearborne family business of which you know nothing about. I would not like to see you hurt by your friend’s lies.”
Constable Angel was listening attentively. “Thank you for clarifying the matter, Lady Deandra. You’ve answered most of the questions I had meant to ask.”
Wimple remained outraged. “Are you going to believe her?”
“Yes, my lord. In fact, I am,” the constable said with a nod. “You ought to do the wise thing and trust her too. Where is your friend now? Seems I ought to have a word with him to clear up this matter.”
“I have no idea. He left Moonstone Landing early yesterday. Nor would I tell you if I did know where he was heading.”
Deandra snorted. “Probably ran off like a coward with his tail between his legs.”
Wimple glared at her. “You’ve made a big mistake, Lady Deandra. One I cannot readily forgive. Do not expect me to call upon you again. You Woodleys are all as mad as loons, and I shall trouble you no further.”
With that, he stormed out, shouting for his horse, and almost knocked over a decorative table in his angry stride.
“Unpleasant man,” Lord Woodley muttered.
Deandra put her arm around her father. “Yes, he is. Fortunately, we will not be seeing any more of him around here.”
“I’m sorry, Deandra,” Sean said, for he was to blame for this unpleasant scene.
“No, you were right.” But her chin wobbled and tears formed in her eyes, so he knew she was overset. “I was never going to accept him had he proposed to me. Still, I am sorry we parted on such unfriendly terms.”
Constable Angel rose, no doubt finding it unnecessary to remain now that Wimple had taken himself off.
“The viscount is an arrogant man, Lady Deandra. He would have been rude and angry even if you had let him down gently. But now that he is gone, is it true? Captain McTavish, are you really the Duke of Dearborne?”
Sean nodded. “Dearborne’s solicitor must have related the news to Martingale before he sent off his missive to me.
” He then took a moment to show him the letter received from the solicitor.
“In fact, Lady Deandra and I had just finished comparing letters her father had saved from this same solicitor to confirm it was not a forgery or some unpleasant prank.”
“Mr. Crowley happens to manage my father’s affairs, too,” Deandra explained. “I’ve known him for years. His honor is unquestioned. I would not be surprised if that oafish lord, Martingale, attempted to bribe him and he, of course, refused.”
“Which probably explains why Martingale was so determined to kill me,” Sean added. “I think his actions further prove the letter was real.”
“Yes, I would say so.” The constable arched an eyebrow. “Well, I had better start referring to you as Your Grace.”
Sean winced. “Gad, that sounds awful. I’ve been McTavish all of my life. Not sure I’ll ever get used to being referred to as Dearborne or Yer Grace.”
“Will you be staying on here?” the constable asked.
Sean glanced at Deandra, but she was staring down at her toes, looking quite forlorn and uncertain.