continued to look smug. ‘My word against yours, is it not? Who has the most to lose if it comes to that?’
The word of a servant against a peer of the realm. A lying servant at that. Dell would like to believe there would not be much contest.
Unless a jury were willing to believe a young wife of an old man would engage in an affair with a younger man who seized upon an opportunity to hasten her becoming a wealthy widow, assuming Tinmore made a generous settlement on her. That made for a good story. Especially if the young wife was one of the Scandalous Summerfield sisters.
‘Your lie against my truth,’ Dell countered. ‘I’ll bank on the truth and I suggest you do the same.’
He strode away.
Curse Dixon. Grief Dell could accept, even understand, but he’d be damned if he’d pay Dixon to keep the man from lying.
He headed back to the morning room, but Ross intercepted him on the way.
‘You look like thunder,’ Ross said.
‘I feel like thunder.’ He still reeled from the exchange with Dixon. ‘Do you know what that butler said to me?’
‘What?’
‘He asked for money. If I paid him money, he would not lie about what he saw.’ Dell shook his head. ‘Can you believe the man?’
Ross’s brows knitted. ‘He could cause you a great deal of trouble, Dell.’
‘I know that, but I’ll be damned if I pay the man.’
‘I’m not suggesting you pay him,’ Ross countered.
‘This death was not my doing and I’ll not be intimidated by some butler who thinks he can make it appear so.’
‘I want to talk to the coroner, Dell.’ Ross tried to pass him. ‘I’ll make him listen to me.’
Dell held him back. ‘You will have your chance. They wish to speak with all of you.’
‘Good.’ Ross nodded. ‘They need to know who you are and who your friends are.’
‘They know who I am. The Earl of Penford.’ He released Ross. ‘But all that is irrelevant. You being my friend is irrelevant. All that matters is what really happened. And I have nothing with which to reproach myself.’
They started back to the morning room.
‘Damned Tinmore,’ Ross said. ‘If anyone is to blame, it is he. Fitting end, I say. He tried to manipulate everyone. Tess and Glenville told me what he did to them.’
‘What did he do to them?’
‘Forced them to marry. They did not even know each other. They were caught in a storm together and Tinmore used that as an excuse to marry her off without paying her dowry. He put pressure on Genna to marry, too.’
Dell knew about Tinmore’s pressure on Genna. That was partly why Ross came up with his scheme to pretend to be betrothed to her.
‘Lorene should never have married him. She and her sisters deserved better than his treatment of them,’ Dell said.
Of course, it was really Dell’s father who put Lorene in a position to agree to marry the elderly, autocratic Tinmore. When Lorene’s father died, Dell’s father inherited the Summerfield estate. It was Dell’s father who turned out the Summerfield sisters. His father might have been generous to them instead. Allowed them to stay at Summerfield House; provided them dowries. He might have done so, but Dell’s father assumed the sisters were as morally loose as their parents.
What possessed his father to be so heartless?
A pang of guilt hit Dell.
How could he reproach a father he so tragically lost a few months after his father made that decision?
Ross went on. ‘I am going to tell the coroner and the magistrate just what I think. I would be remiss if I did not.’
‘Do not bully them, Ross,’ Dell insisted. ‘It will not work with this Walsh fellow.’
‘I can at least let them know I expect them to proceed properly,’ Ross insisted. ‘And that I expect them to protect Lorene’s reputation.’
For Lorene’s sake, Dell would not further argue with his friend. Her reputation must be protected above all else. After all, the Summerfield sisters had suffered enough damage to their reputations, most of it due to their parents, not themselves.
Lorene, though, had often been the object of gossip, accused of tricking the ancient, but wealthy, Lord Tinmore into marrying her. Yes, she had married Tinmore for his money, but not for herself. For her sisters and her half-brother.
She deserved their esteem, not more gossip.
* * *
Lorene’s knees shook as she stood before Squire Hedges and the coroner. There was no reason for her to be fearful, but she could not help it. She glanced around the room, but it did nothing to still her unease. Rather, the portraits on the wall seemed to be glaring at her, blaming her for what happened.
If she had not defied him, they seemed to say, he would be alive today.
Would the Squire and the coroner see her guilt?
Or did they already believe Dell had pushed Tinmore?
Dell would never have done such a thing. Never. Surely they would have believed him and not a grieving butler too upset to realise who he accused.
Squire Hedges gestured to a chair near the desk. ‘Would you care to sit, Lady Tinmore?’
Sitting would make her feel too small, somehow. She was Lady Tinmore, she must remember. Here was one rare occasion that she must assert her rank.
She straightened her spine. ‘I will stand, thank you.’ She pointed to the pen and paper on the desk. ‘But you must sit so you may write.’
The Squire inclined his head and lowered himself into his chair. Mr Walsh, the coroner, stood with his arms folded across his chest. He was the one who made her insides tremble.
Squire Hedges smiled. ‘Tell us what happened, my lady. What you saw. What you heard.’
She decided to begin with her return from Summerfield House. ‘I spent the day with my sisters at Summerfield House and when the day was over, Lord Penford offered his carriage and his escort to return me to Tinmore Hall—’
Mr Walsh interrupted. ‘You did not have a carriage at your disposal?’
She faced him. ‘No.’
‘Then how did you travel to Summerfield House?’ he asked.
‘I walked.’
His dark brows rose. ‘You walked?’
‘Lord Tinmore was supposed to have come with me to spend Christmas with
