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Authors: Christie Kelley
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name down in his notebook.
“The Duke of Northrop,” Simon replied. “He lives nearby but spent much of his time in London. We both went to Eton for a few years but would be here in the summer and over the Christmas holidays. He speaks more like he was born and bred in London.”
“Ahh, so we might have the right idea by searching London.” Tanner glanced over at Mia again. “Is there anything you have forgotten?”
“I did cut him with a knife that day. He was bleeding, so he might have stopped to get assistance from a surgeon. There is one in town but I wouldn’t recommend him to anyone.” She leaned closer to Tanner and whispered, “He’s a drunken sod.”
Tanner’s lips twitched. “I see. I will definitely investigate.”
Mia looked down at her hands. Simon noticed they trembled slightly.
“Is there anything else?” Mr. Tanner asked in a gentle tone.
“He did have another scar,” she whispered, as her cheeks grew red.
Tanner leveled him a glare. “Would you mind sharing where on his body the scar was?”
She closed her eyes and nodded. “His left rib cage. It looked like a sword wound. I asked him about it but he wouldn’t tell me how he received it.”
Left rib cage? A sword wound? Memories flooded his mind. It couldn’t be him. His hair was blond, not a dark brown. Besides, that was ten years ago and it was a misunderstanding, not something that should lead to vengeance this long after the affair. He couldn’t mention what had happened in front of Mia. She would know he lied about the number of fights he had been involved in over the years.
She would think he was no better than Davies.
And she might be right.
“Miss Featherstone, would you excuse us. I still have a few things I need to speak to Mr. Tanner about,” Simon said.
“Of course,” Mia replied with a quick nod to both men and then departed.
“What is wrong?” Mr. Tanner asked as soon as the door shut.
“There was a man I dueled with when I was twenty. Except for the hair, he matches Miss Featherstone’s description. I sliced him quite badly in the left rib cage. For a while, there was talk that he wouldn’t live.”
“Who, my lord?”
“Andrew Lambert, the second son of Viscount Ridgley.”
“I will look into that personally. I still believe Miss Featherstone was used by this Davies fellow to hurt you. But we don’t know if he is holding something over her head, so be careful, my lord. She might be the one to cause you injury, not Davies.”
Simon fisted his hands and breathed in deeply before replying. “Miss Featherstone is not involved in this. Davies may have used her to get to me, but that is the only way she is involved.”
Mr. Tanner nodded. “Of course, my lord. Just have a care.” He cleared his throat before continuing, “Just one more thing, my lord. Are there any other duels or... fights that might have caused you enemies?”
“We are done,” Simon said roughly. “Let me know if you discover anything.”
As soon as Tanner left, Simon walked to the lowest level of the house where he could relieve this stress without hurting anyone. After stripping off his jacket and shirt, he put on his padded gloves and walked to the canvas bag hanging from the upstairs floor beam. As he punched the sand-filled bag, he wished Middleton was at home. The viscount loved a good pugilist fight and Simon desperately wanted one. Instead, he continued to punch the bag and think about Tanner’s words.
Mia was not involved in this affair. He was certain. He had found her out in the least occupied area of the estate. He had only gone there because he’d needed a long walk that day. She could never have known he was heading in that direction; the only person he’d told was Harris.
The servants always talk. Mia’s words haunted him. Could Harris have told someone where he was going that day? He gave the bag one more hard punch.
Mia could not possibly be involved.
Chapter 8
M ia walked the perimeter of her
“The Duke of Northrop,” Simon replied. “He lives nearby but spent much of his time in London. We both went to Eton for a few years but would be here in the summer and over the Christmas holidays. He speaks more like he was born and bred in London.”
“Ahh, so we might have the right idea by searching London.” Tanner glanced over at Mia again. “Is there anything you have forgotten?”
“I did cut him with a knife that day. He was bleeding, so he might have stopped to get assistance from a surgeon. There is one in town but I wouldn’t recommend him to anyone.” She leaned closer to Tanner and whispered, “He’s a drunken sod.”
Tanner’s lips twitched. “I see. I will definitely investigate.”
Mia looked down at her hands. Simon noticed they trembled slightly.
“Is there anything else?” Mr. Tanner asked in a gentle tone.
“He did have another scar,” she whispered, as her cheeks grew red.
Tanner leveled him a glare. “Would you mind sharing where on his body the scar was?”
She closed her eyes and nodded. “His left rib cage. It looked like a sword wound. I asked him about it but he wouldn’t tell me how he received it.”
Left rib cage? A sword wound? Memories flooded his mind. It couldn’t be him. His hair was blond, not a dark brown. Besides, that was ten years ago and it was a misunderstanding, not something that should lead to vengeance this long after the affair. He couldn’t mention what had happened in front of Mia. She would know he lied about the number of fights he had been involved in over the years.
She would think he was no better than Davies.
And she might be right.
“Miss Featherstone, would you excuse us. I still have a few things I need to speak to Mr. Tanner about,” Simon said.
“Of course,” Mia replied with a quick nod to both men and then departed.
“What is wrong?” Mr. Tanner asked as soon as the door shut.
“There was a man I dueled with when I was twenty. Except for the hair, he matches Miss Featherstone’s description. I sliced him quite badly in the left rib cage. For a while, there was talk that he wouldn’t live.”
“Who, my lord?”
“Andrew Lambert, the second son of Viscount Ridgley.”
“I will look into that personally. I still believe Miss Featherstone was used by this Davies fellow to hurt you. But we don’t know if he is holding something over her head, so be careful, my lord. She might be the one to cause you injury, not Davies.”
Simon fisted his hands and breathed in deeply before replying. “Miss Featherstone is not involved in this. Davies may have used her to get to me, but that is the only way she is involved.”
Mr. Tanner nodded. “Of course, my lord. Just have a care.” He cleared his throat before continuing, “Just one more thing, my lord. Are there any other duels or... fights that might have caused you enemies?”
“We are done,” Simon said roughly. “Let me know if you discover anything.”
As soon as Tanner left, Simon walked to the lowest level of the house where he could relieve this stress without hurting anyone. After stripping off his jacket and shirt, he put on his padded gloves and walked to the canvas bag hanging from the upstairs floor beam. As he punched the sand-filled bag, he wished Middleton was at home. The viscount loved a good pugilist fight and Simon desperately wanted one. Instead, he continued to punch the bag and think about Tanner’s words.
Mia was not involved in this affair. He was certain. He had found her out in the least occupied area of the estate. He had only gone there because he’d needed a long walk that day. She could never have known he was heading in that direction; the only person he’d told was Harris.
The servants always talk. Mia’s words haunted him. Could Harris have told someone where he was going that day? He gave the bag one more hard punch.
Mia could not possibly be involved.
Chapter 8
M ia walked the perimeter of her
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