The Bad Luck Bride (The Brides of St. Ives #1)(56)
“That would be a horrible thing, indeed,” Elda said. “I cannot imagine anyone who would want to kill Mr. Turner. He was such a pleasant young man.”
Alice happened to look at Henderson at that moment and saw something flicker in his eyes, as he no doubt recalled their meeting just prior to his death.
“Mr. Southwell was one of the last people to see Mr. Turner alive.” Alice looked at Northrup with disbelief, not so much at what he’d said but rather how he’d said it, as if Henderson could somehow be the murderer.
“Indeed I was, my lord,” Henderson said. “He was a good friend and I’m glad I was able to spend some time with him before this happened.”
“I’m certain you were,” Northrup said apologetically, as if realizing how awful he sounded. He cast a look toward Alice and she had a feeling he was trying to gauge whether she was angry with him or not. He brightened markedly when her father entered the room. “Lord Hubbard.”
The men rose, and her father immediately started toward Lord Berkley, hesitating only briefly when he realized Henderson was standing next to him. “I do apologize for not being here when you arrived,” he said, shaking the other man’s hand before turning to Henderson and nodding. “Mr. Southwell, a pleasure.”
“Indeed,” Henderson said.
“I insisted Mr. Southwell accompany me,” Lord Berkley said. “I do hope you do not mind my bringing along a guest.”
“Of course not,” Richard said warmly. “Mr. Southwell is always welcome here.”
Moments later, their butler announced luncheon was served, and as the group headed to the dining room, Alice trailed slightly behind. She wasn’t certain what was going on, why Henderson was here or why Lord Berkley seemed to have taken an immediate dislike to Northrup. For his part, Northrup appeared to be out of sorts, as if the world had tilted a bit on its axis, leaving him out of balance.
During luncheon, Berkley regaled them with stories of America, much to Christina’s delight, and Alice noticed how many times the earl brought Henderson into the conversation whilst completely ignoring Lord Northrup. Her father appeared almost smitten with Berkley and her mother was looking at the earl as if she’d never seen such a paragon of manhood in her life. This all would have boded ill, thought Alice, if it hadn’t been so very apparent—at least to her—why Berkley was here and why he’d brought Henderson along with him. It appeared to her that Henderson had gained himself a powerful and charming ally.
After they’d finished dining, Lord Northrup, who was seated next to her, leaned over and quietly asked Alice if she might like to take a turn in the garden.
“Why don’t we all go?” Lord Berkley said, and Alice nearly laughed aloud, for it was clear to her that Northrup had lowered his voice so that no one else could hear the request. What fine hearing the man had. “It’s a lovely day and I have heard your grounds are well-maintained. I’m going to be making some changes at Costille, and I would like to hear your thoughts, my lady.”
With that, Alice’s mother was completely won over and Alice had to stop herself from rolling her eyes. If Berkley had heard a single syllable about their garden, she would be fully shocked. Northrup, on the other hand, was having a difficult time hiding his annoyance, and Alice gave him a look of understanding. “Another time,” she whispered.
*
As the group headed en masse to the garden, Alice on Northrup’s arm, she was intensely aware of Henderson following just behind them. Lord Berkley was completely engaging her parents, and Alice could see Northrup was nearly in fits trying to hear what they were talking about. Every time either of her parents laughed, he would stiffen and let out a small puff of air.
“I fear I cannot have Lord Berkley monopolize your parents so thoroughly, my dear. If you’ll forgive me.” And with that, he dropped her hand and picked up his pace so that he was part of the group containing her parents. Berkley welcomed him with such enthusiasm, Alice’s suspicions were only confirmed. She was left standing alone for approximately three seconds before she found herself next to Henderson, her face red from embarrassment. Or pleasure. Just, she was certain, as Berkley had intended.
“What are you doing here?” she whispered. “And do not tell me it was to have luncheon or I shall strangle you.”
“I came to win your heart,” he said lightly.
“You already have my heart,” she said grumpily.
“Then I am here to win your mother and father’s hearts.”
Alice stopped abruptly, her eyes on the small group in front of them being so entertained by Lord Berkley, they were unaware the two of them were lagging behind. “What are you saying?”
“I’m saying I want to court you. I don’t want you to marry Lord Northrup. I want you to marry me, instead.”
The way he said it, as if he were telling her he was planning to order beef for supper, was quite maddening. “Do you.”
“Indeed I do. And someday I will be able to tell you precisely why marrying anyone other than me would be a colossal mistake.”
She snorted. “Then it’s a good thing you told me now, after three failed weddings. Goodness sakes, Henny, are you mad? When did this grand revelation occur to you? After…” She couldn’t finish the sentence; it was too mortifying. “My God, is that what this about? You feel guilty about the other evening?”