A Devil Named DeVere (The Devil DeVere)(37)

"You are right, of course, but then again, a ducal coronet would bear considerably more weight in a witness box. I saw you with her, Ludovic. A married woman alone with a man of your reputation? There can be no other interpretation."

"Your word against mine, then." He emitted a mirthless laugh. "Hell hath no fury like a duchess scorned."

She gave him a venomous smile. "And I will teach you that my fury is to be feared."

"Caroline, you may drag me through the mud if you wish, but there is no possibility that I would ever be convicted of such a crime. I am a peer of the realm, and there are no witnesses who can place me at the scene."

"But even to be connected to this. Imagine the scandal, Ludovic! Your name besmirched in all the broadsheets, your person avoided and ostracized by anyone of quality."

"Yet as a man, I would come out much cleaner than you as my accuser. I have little to fear from any woman of your sullied repute."

"Is that so? Then if you would not spare yourself the scandal and dishonor, what of your penniless and newly widowed baroness?"

His eyes narrowed. "What of the baroness?"

"Unless you desist your relations with her, my love, I promise to destroy her."

***

"An entirely gruesome business, this." Sir John shuddered and accepted the stiff drink proffered by DeVere's footman. "I suppose we must try to piece this mess together. The sooner the dead man is laid to rest, the better, I say." He downed the glass of port in one long draft and beckoned for another. "When was the deceased last seen? And by whom?"

Edward answered. "Lord Reginald had joined Annalee, Diana, and me in the stands immediately prior to the first race but then departed to investigate when his horse did not appear."

"Then his horse was supposed to have run in the first race?"

"Yes. His groom Johnson was to ride Reggie's stallion, Centurion," Edward said.

"What do we know of the circumstances leading to the discovery of the body?"

DeVere interjected, "My man Pratt came upon the horse saddled as if to ride but greatly agitated and pacing in his box. When he investigated further, he found the deceased and the unconscious groom."

"And there was no sign of injury to the horse?" Sir John asked.

"None, according to Pratt," DeVere answered.

"That's most curious that he did not run then. Have either of you any knowledge of the stallion's temperament? Might we surmise that he attacked the unwary groom?"

"To my knowledge, Centurion is high spirited, but not a vicious animal," Edward replied.

Sir John scowled and scratched some notes. "Yet stallions can be unpredictable. Surely it is a possibility."

"I fear that cock won't fight, my lord," argued Dr. Stone. "The groom was battered and beaten almost beyond recognition, but there are no hoof prints on his body to suggest it could have been the horse."

Sir John's scowl deepened. He took another glass of port. "What do you suggest then?"

Dr. Stone remained impassive. "I suggest nothing, my lord. I merely relate the facts."

"And the same facts are sadly unsupportive of any motive for violence," said DeVere.

"Unless, of course, his lordship lost control upon finding his horse unable to run," Sir John said. "Yes, yes, indeed. It all comes together now. Lord Reginald had become compulsive in his gaming and was heavily in debt. He had hoped to recover his losses through the horse race, but then his horse failed to run. Is it possible that this outcome may have been the proverbial straw that broke the camel's back? A man in such desperate straits is rarely of a sound mind, you know." He added an aside, "Could it have moved him to assault the groom?"

"But Lord Reginald hardly struck one as a man with a choleric temperament," the duchess observed. "I wonder that he could have been capable of such violence."

"My dear duchess, many a gentleman has taken an uncharacteristic action when faced with the prospect of ruin. I can only surmise by the evidence that he assaulted the groom and then turned the pistol upon himself as the only honorable solution." Sir John looked exceedingly pleased with his hypothesis.

"But can one truly rule out the possibility of murder?" she asked.

Sir John laughed. "Respectfully, Your Grace, I would call that a fanciful speculation."

"But what if a motive could be discovered?" She slanted a sly look to Ludovic.

"Unless the groom recovers his senses sufficiently to speak, there is no evidence to suggest foul play," Sir John answered condescendingly. "I will, as a matter of course, need to question the Baroness, but I am confident these unfortunate proceedings will be hastily concluded. Is the lady prone to hysterics?"

"No, I would say not," Sir Edward answered. "Diana is my wife's cousin. I believe her of stout enough character to sit for necessary questioning once she has had sufficient time to compose her nerves, of course."

"I daresay, a good dose of laudanum in her tea won't go astray about now," said Dr. Stone.

"Pray allow me to take it to her," offered Caroline.

"You are all that is gracious, Duchess," said the doctor.

She's a conniving bitch! Ludovic stifled his retort. Instead, he politely interjected, "But I believe Lady Chambers is already attending the baroness. Is she not, Sir Edward?"