The Wolf of Winterthorne: Scandalous Secrets, Book 4 (29 page)

“Welcome to the club,” Logan raised the decanter. “Care for a drink?”

Arthur shook his head. “I know what ails Lord Lawrence. There was a mishap at his residence and he took a fall. There was a great deal of blood.”

“What did he fall upon?” Colin inquired.

“A knife,” Arthur’s tone was devoid of emotion. “Repeatedly. The Duke’s mother hired henchmen to find the woman responsible after his footman told him it was Arabella. We know nothing could be further from the truth, do we not?”

“Yes, but proving that is another thing altogether.” Logan spun his empty tumbler on the top of his desk, considering what could exonerate his wife. There was Arabella’s scar, though that alone would not be enough to convince everyone.

There was another challenge in regards to Arabella’s confession to Victoria that Sybil pretended to be her. Even with Victoria’s noble roots and title, for her to make such an assertion publicly, it would appear as if one friend were supporting another. It wasn’t enough proof to free Arabella from her sister’s machinations.

“What am I missing?” Logan pondered aloud. “There must be a way to expose Sybil. But how?”

He tapped his fingers on his desk again, allowing the rapid drumbeat to permeate his thoughts. Concentrating on the percussion, hoping to free his mind.

He ticked off the facts in a quick staccato, his fingers tapping in unison with his rapid thoughts. “Sybil is a performer. She loves a grand spectacle, a show that will allow her to be spotlighted.”

Bolting upright, Logan stood with such force that his desk shook, causing a marble paperweight carved in the shape of a canine to teeter. He proceeded to the windows.

“If she wants a grand spectacle, why don’t we stage one?” Logan threaded his hands behind his neck. “Yes, we could lure her to Winterthorne—”

“And what?” Colin approached Logan before studying his friend.

The sun was shining, the blue sky and white fluffy clouds danced in the bright sky beyond the gleaming panes of glass. The view from Logan’s office was splendid. The view from his ballroom was even more divine. “We invite Sybil’s victims and stage her confession for all to hear.”

Colin crossed his arms over his chest, causing the fine fabric of his jacket to stretch almost beyond its limits. “Isn’t she much too shrewd for that? How would we gather the guests without revealing our plan let alone draw the confession from Sybil in front of witnesses?”

Granted, it would be a difficult task to pull off. However, it was essential that Sybil’s fall from grace, her confession, be witnessed. At least by her victims and members of the constabulary if they would agree to attend. If the police were not present, the victims could still tell the tale to the London authorities, freeing her sister from Sybil’s sinful actions.

One question remained: how would Logan pull off such a public spectacle?

Logan continued to stare out the window, though it was a different view that filled his mind … that from Winterthorne’s ballroom. It was exquisite, showcasing the large lake that buffered the back of the estate.

The lake … it would fit into his plan perfectly as would the estate’s hidden tunnels and …

“I have a bloody brilliant plan!” Logan met his friend’s concerned gaze as a wry grin swept across his own features.

“Pray don’t keep me in suspense,” Colin drawled.

“I shall make it an impressive event, the likes of which Northamptonshire has never before witnessed.”

Yes, that is what Logan would do. He would use Winterthorne as the perfect stage. It would allow him to plan the perfect performance.

No, performances.

Two performances to be precise.

Considering the many intricacies that must be woven into such a bold plan, Logan realized his was the best solution. Complicated, it must be executed to the letter as there would be many intricate, moving parts. Like an elaborate clock, each person involved must perform his or her duties at the right time and work in harmony with everyone else.

“Are you men prepared for a challenge?” Logan inquired with a steely edge to his voice as he looked at Colin first, then Arthur. “This isn’t for the faint of heart.”

“I’m game, mate,” Colin was quick to enter the fray as all eyes turned to Arthur.

The man leaned against the worn leather back of his chair, his fingers forming a pyramid. “I am more than ready to reveal Sybil Sutton’s true nature. What can I do to assist?”

“An easier question to answer may be what can’t you do,” Logan crossed the room to his desk where he reached for a paper and ink.

“This is our plan, gents,” he announced as he began jotting down two lists, his choppy handwriting scrawling across the pages.

The day of reckoning was about to dawn for Sybil.

Logan would ensure nothing would go wrong and he would keep Arabella safe.

He had made that vow once, to Bella’s father.

He intended to keep it.

God help anyone who got in his way.

L
ogan found Arabella and Eve walking in the small maze of shrubbery directly behind Winterthorne. Little did most know that the venerable estate was forged with pairs.

Yes, the architects throughout the notorious home’s history designed companion pieces for the estate and surrounding grounds. Winterthorne possessed two gardens, two lakes, two libraries – one in the first of two master suites, and two impressive structures though the one at the gate was smaller in stature compared to the imposing main house. That was the theme with most of the pairs – one was typically larger than the other.

Having researched the history of Winterthorne, Logan had been unable to discern the meaning of the pairs. It remained one of the many mysteries that comprised Winterthorne.

The cozy garden in which Logan found Bella and Eve was complete with mazes of hearty, manicured greenery that did not lose its leaves in the autumn. It also consisted of two winding walking paths. One led to the stone statue of St. Francis of Assisi who, legend had it, befriended a wolf. The other walking path led to another structure, this of the Lupa Capitolina in female form, representing the wolf that saved Romulus and Remus. Instead of fur, this statue depicted the she-wolf in a flowing toga-like gown.

Two mazes, two statues – male and female. Separated by a small fountain, a miniature lake if you will.

Beyond the patch was a large lake and a horizon blanketed with tall grass leading to tawny hills dotted with tall pines.

Adolphus was at Bella’s side, as had become his ritual. His ears perked at the sound of Logan approaching. The canine’s keen senses were on full alert, as if he could predict that Arabella was in danger and would do anything to protect her.

Much like his master.

“Eve, your husband respectfully requests your presence upstairs.” Logan exchanged knowing glances with her before adding, “We have an additional guest, by the by. He will be dining with us this evening.”

Nodding her understanding, Eve offered a serene smile as she proceeded to the stone fortress that was the main house.

Though a slight breeze wafted through the autumn day, the sun was warm. Logan tucked a stray tendril behind his wife’s ear. “The weather is lovely. Shall we take a turn?”

Bella looped her arm through his, placing her head against his shoulder. “I thought we were supposed to remain close to the main structure?”

“You are, when you are on your own,” Logan wrapped his wife in a tight embrace. “But you are in the presence of not one but two males who shall protect you with their lives if need be. It is safe to venture forth.”

Arabella halted mid-step, pressing her forefinger against the cleft in his chin then tracing his jawline. “I thought you said that your hound likes no one?”

“Yes, well, I thought I had conceded that he made an exception with you,” Logan kissed his wife’s hair, as her curls drifted gently in the soft breeze. “Shall we walk?”

“Our situation must be dire for you to suggest we venture into the woods, so to speak.” Bella’s tone, laced with a combination of sarcasm and humor, matched her jaunty grin.

“Well, my love, you are wrong for we have caught our first break of hopefully many,” Logan led her to a large tree, the scent of pine and sap lingering in the air. He placed his greatcoat on the ground, motioning for Bella to sit as he offered her his hand. Once he joined her on the ground, his back rested against the rugged trunk.

“Pray, what is this good fortune?” she quipped. “And are you certain it is ours? Perhaps this good luck was meant for one of your neighbors.”

Logan caressed her cheek with his thumb, noting that she wore a gown the color of spring in bloom, with a matching jade and gold cape. It accentuated the green and amber in her gaze, which now glinted with mischief.

“No, love … we have no neighbors.” His fingers perused the nape of her neck, dipping under her cloak, grazing her décolletage.

“We—” She splayed her palms on his thighs. “I like the sound of that.”

Leaning into her, he was now so close that her sweet breath fanned his lips. His pulse quickened as he studied her heart-shaped mouth.

God, how he wanted to kiss her.

“If you like that,” he whispered in her ear before nipping the lobe with his teeth. “Our property borders no one for miles, therefore we have no neighbors, Wife.”

“That sounds even better,” Arabella purred as Logan kissed her silken flesh above her cloak. “And that feels divine.”

“There is so much more—”

Adolphus barked, bounding between Logan and Arabella, knocking Logan against the tree trunk as his hound lay next to Bella.

She began to laugh, the sound tinkling through the crisp autumn air, in tandem with the rustling leaves and occasional howl of wind.

“It appears that I have competition for your affection,” Logan drawled, causing her shoulders to shake with mirth.

“There is enough love in my heart for both you and Adolphus,” Bella petted the dog’s head, while she adjusted, positioning herself next to Logan, resting her head against his jacket. “Now what is this good fortune? Both Adolphus and I are awaiting your news with bated breath.”

Logan glanced at the satiated hound. “Our guest knows us, knows your sister, and he wishes to aid us in exposing her lies.”

“What?” Arabella shot straight up, causing Adolphus to growl as he surveyed their surroundings. “Sorry, boy. I didn’t mean to startle you.”

The canine looked to Logan, as if for approval. His master tipped his head to the side and the dog placed his head atop the ground with a yawn.

Some guard dog
, Logan thought.

Adolphus was growing soft.

His master would not make the same mistake. It was Logan’s solemn vow as he explained all about their guest to Bella.

“Mason …” the name hung in the air. In truth it was as if Bella pulled it out of thin air. “His name was Martin not Arthur.”

“He said he changed it. But, how do you—”

“Remember? I recall everything now,” She stared into the distance. The landscape taking on a different characteristic, because Bella was no longer a blank page.

Studying trees accentuated by leaves consisting of several tawny shades with a hint of green here and there, reminded her of the many autumns she now remembered witnessing. Running her fingers through the browning grass, she picked up a fist full of sharp pine needles, their pointed ends pricking her skin as she separated them.

One at a time, she placed them in a pile as she spoke, each patch of needles representing a memory, a moment in time that was no longer foreign to her.

“My mother’s name was Anna. She was blonde with bluish green eyes. The sweetest, most honest and strongest woman I have ever known. My mother would have been formidable with the Dowager Viscountess, of that I have no doubt.” Her lips curled into a slight grin.

What she wouldn’t give to have Mama here, now.

Or her father.

“Papa’s name was Charles. He was funny, charming and smelled of sweet dough. When I was a child, he would place my favorite scone in the pocket of his apron for me to find when I visited him at the shop. You and I would share it, sitting on the back stoop as I taught you to read. Until you began making them for me.”