at Christmas a year ago. Nor did he mention he had sent sheet music to Lorene as a gift last spring, even though he sent it anonymously.
He certainly would not be able to explain his motivation to do those things, because he did not understand why himself.
‘You don’t know why Tinmore thought there was an affair?’ the Squire asked.
‘I do not know why he thought what he did. I do not know why he would not listen to reason when I told him his fears were unfounded,’ Dell continued in a firm voice. ‘I grabbed his cane to keep him from striking me, but that is all. When he let go of the cane, his feet were firmly on the stone outside the door. Something else made him stagger backwards. Something made him press his hands on to his head.’
‘Yes. Well.’ Squire Hedges tapped his fingers on the desk.
Dell turned to the coroner. ‘You will call in Lord Tinmore’s physician, will you not? Tinmore looked as if he was seized with some sort of fit. Something caused him to stagger and fall. Perhaps his physician will know what it might have been.’
Walsh glanced at the Squire, who dipped his pen in the inkwell and wrote a note. ‘Yes, indeed. Speak to Tinmore’s physician.’
Walsh turned back to Dell. ‘Thank you, Lord Penford,’ he said. ‘You may go now.’
That was it?
Dell nodded to each of them and turned to go.
‘But do not leave town until after the inquest,’ Walsh added.
As if he would return to London before all this was settled.
Dell nodded. ‘You have my word.’
‘If you would be so good as to send in Lady Tinmore,’ Walsh said.
Dell left the room only to encounter Dixon attending the door.
‘Where is Lady Tinmore?’ he asked the butler.
Dixon avoided looking at him. ‘Returned to her guests.’
Dell made his way back to the morning room and the Summerfield sisters and their husbands all looked at him expectantly when he entered.
‘Nothing is resolved,’ He turned to Lorene. ‘They wish to speak to you.’
She nodded and stood.
He escorted her back to the magistrate and the coroner, although there was really no reason for him to do so.
‘What did they ask you?’ she asked as soon as they were out of the morning room.
‘They asked me to tell them what happened,’ he responded. ‘Then they asked about Lord Tinmore’s accusation.’ He did not need to explain what accusation he meant.
Her eyes widened. ‘But that was all nonsense!’
‘Then you have nothing to worry about.’ He put his hand on her arm. ‘Tell the truth and all will be well.’
‘Sometimes men do not listen to reason,’ she said.
She was speaking of Tinmore, of course. Certainly he had not listened to reason.
‘You can only control what you say and how you say it,’ he responded. ‘You cannot control what they will think.’
‘That is why I am afraid,’ she murmured.
They fell silent when nearing the room, its door still guarded by Dixon. When the butler saw them, he opened the door to announce her, just as he ought.
Dell gave her a reassuring look and watched her disappear behind the door.
Dell turned and encountered Dixon’s scathing glare.
Dell met the butler’s gaze. ‘I regret what happened, Dixon, but, I assure you, I did not push Lord Tinmore.’ He turned to leave.
Dell was willing to accept his part in the sequence of events that led to Tinmore’s death. He should have returned to his carriage instead of confronting Tinmore. But his intentions were honourable. He wanted to defend Lorene and prevent her husband from believing ill of her. But he had not killed Tinmore. Killing was what one did in battle. The images of those soldiers he killed could never be erased from his mind.
Dixon spoke. ‘You killed him, sure enough. You and Lady Tinmore.’
Dell whirled on him. ‘Enough of this talk. Lady Tinmore has done nothing.’
‘That is not what his lordship said,’ Dixon persisted.
‘Tinmore was wrong. His wife’s attachment is to her sisters, not to me. I am merely a friend of her sister’s husband.’
What was the use? This butler was as thick-headed as Tinmore had been. Not listening to reason. Nothing good would come of trying to convince a man who was determined to think otherwise.
Dell turned to leave again.
‘I could be quiet about it,’ Dixon called after him.
Dell looked over his shoulder, not certain he’d heard correctly.
Dixon smirked. ‘You have money, Lord Penford. You wouldn’t miss a few quid. You’d see how easily I could change my mind. Tell them I was mistaken and no harm done.’
Enough sympathy for this man. Dell had thought him motivated by grief, which Dell could well understand, not greed. ‘You want me to pay you to keep quiet?’
‘If you like.’ Dixon sounded all innocence suddenly. ‘I could say I misspoke—out of shock at losing my lord. I could say I didn’t see you push him.’
‘You did not see it. It did not happen.’ Dell’s voice deepened. ‘Perhaps you would like me to tell those gentlemen behind the door that you attempted to extort money from me?’
Dixon 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.’