To Defend A Duke

Chapter 17

The next week and a half run like clockwork. Every morning Evelyn wakes up and has breakfast with her aunt, cousin and brother before making an excuse to why she cannot join them in their outings and tea parties. Each day the excuses get longer and more extravagant but thankfully her family are so wrapped in their own lives that they don't question her. At 11 Blackmoore's carriage will pick her up at the top of Kingston Street and then they stay in his private study till 4. The carriage then takes her home in time to hear all of Henrietta's daily adventures. If she is unlucky there is a party in the evening and she has to struggle through that with her cousin whispering ridicule in her ear as well as the scorn that follows her from room to room. When her head hits the pillow she falls into a deep sleep, preparing to do it all again. 

Exactly two weeks after meeting Duke Blackmoore Evelyn leans over the balcony of the second floor of his study, book in hand. She bites her thumbnail as she reads, the more she knows, the more she realises how damned he is if they don't find the real killer. 

"I just don't see how Lady Carrick could have killed Phillipa." Blackmoore restarts the current argument of the day. Evelyn groans and closes her book. 

"She goes on the list because she has more spite than any woman I have ever met and she hates you because of some reason you don't want to tell me but insists is awful." She reasons walking along the balcony to look at him directly. 

He grumbles but writes her name on the list that has been growing longer and longer over the weeks. Evelyn slides her book into its spot on the shelf and leans against the wall of books as her stomach growls it's hunger. She freezes, her eyes fixed on a spot above the fireplace. She steps forward, tension racking her body. 

She uses the railing to lead her round to the stairs, her eyes never leaving the spot. She slowly walks down the stairs and walks over to the fire. Blackmoore looks up as she moves past him to stand in front of the desk. He frowns when she makes no movement or speech. 

"What are you looking at?" He asks, returning to his papers, confused by her antics. She doesn't reply and goes over to a small table. 

"What on earth?" Blackmoore cries as she sweeps all the books and papers onto the floor in a large scattered pile. She ignores him and carries the table to the fireplace. 

"Miss Wright?" Blackmoore's voice turns from anger to worry as she climbs onto the table and rises onto her tiptoes. He rushes from his chair to stand behind her as the table wobbles dangerously when she rocks on her tiptoes. 

"Look." She turns around and is surprised to see him behind her but she points at an empty space. "I cannot believe we missed this!" 

"You've lost me." He says, "What am I meant to be looking at?" 

"There's nothing there." She says in delight. 

"And?" He frowns. 

"Claude told me that there were a few things that belonged to your grandfather around the house." She points to the empty space. "There should be a pistol here, the little pins couldn't support a sword, only a pistol and look." She points to the handle of one of the swords. "V.B" 

"By God." Blackmoore whispers. "I never knew they belonged to him, I just thought they were heirlooms." 

"This is where they got the pistol." She says excitedly, Blackmore helps her to jump down as the table wobbles more violently with her excitement. She looks up at him, ecstatic with her discover but then a horrible realisation crashes over her. "There are only two keys to this room...." She steps back. 

"No!" Blackmoore says firmly, "He didn't!" 

"It's the only explanation." Evelyn softly, wary of the sensitive subject.