“And you think it wise to return to London?” Terence cast a covert glance in Claudia’s direction. “After the incident at the inn, did we not agree you would remain abroad indefinitely?”
Lockhart straightened and tugged at the cuffs of his coat. Claudia felt the loss of his warm hands instantly. Still, the anger she sensed raging inside her husband burned hot enough to thaw the freezing fog.
“You can speak openly in front of my wife. We have no secrets.”
That was not entirely true. He had failed to mention she was his second choice.
Terence arched a brow in surprise. “Then she knows you risk your neck coming here.”
Lockhart shrugged. “Other than you, who knows of the crime? Has anyone ever found the body?” Lockhart’s heavy sigh sent a puff of white mist into the air. “Has anyone ever come forward to incriminate me?”
“Not that I am aware,” Terence replied, still looking less than pleased about his brother’s return.
“Then I do not see the problem.”
“God damn it, Hudson,” Terence suddenly snapped through gritted teeth. He dragged the mask off his head and jabbed it at Lockhart. “Seeing you might prompt someone’s memory. Do you not care if you’re hauled to the gallows? You endanger us all by being here. We all face ruination if the truth comes to light, including your wife and your unborn child.”
Said in a more earnest tone, one might have believed Terence Lockhart cared for his brother. But the words showed concern for his own interests first and foremost.
“Claudia supports my decision to discover the truth about what happened that night,” Mr Lockhart said. “Regardless of the outcome.”
“The truth?” Selina blurted. “We all know what happened, Hudson. Although we were the ones who remained at home, we have all suffered.”
“Suffered?” Lockhart’s disdainful snort suggested he despised this woman.
Selina drew back her shoulders. “Your mother has not smiled since the night you left. Your father is on his deathbed. Because of you, he’s lost the will to live. Justin visits him daily hoping to persuade him to change his will, and there is not a night that goes by when I don’t wake in a cold sweat, when I don’t blame myself for what happened.” Selina inhaled deeply after finishing her lecture, and then her shoulders sagged.
Claudia turned to Mr Lockhart and whispered, “Justin?”
“Justin Perigrew. My cousin and my father’s godson.” Lockhart turned to his brother. “No doubt Justin is keen to inherit my share of the family fortune. Father wrote a few months after I arrived in India, informing me he’d struck me from his will.”
“What did you expect?” Terence waved the ridiculous mask again. “He thinks you ran away from your responsibilities. He thinks you deserted your family to run amok with your friends.”
“And now he thinks you’re dead,” Selina added.
In all honesty, it was hard to absorb the amount of information being batted back and forth. So Mr Lockhart had been disinherited. Was that the villain’s plan all along? Was money the motive? If so, they should attempt to discover what other amendments his father had made to his will.
It would also help if Mr Lockhart explained precisely what had happened on that fateful night. Claudia was somewhat surprised at herself for not enquiring before. Then again, she was being paid for her services. Should it matter what caused him to flee to India all those years ago?
“I intend to call on them tomorrow, though doubt I’ll receive a warm welcome.” There was a sadness in Mr Lockhart’s voice that for all his bravado he could not disguise. For no reason other than to soothe him, Claudia reached for his hand and gripped his fingers.
“You should leave them be,” Selina said, throwing deadly daggers their way. “Your parents have been through enough, we all have. You should take your wife far away from here and never return.”
Since her initial outburst, Selina Lockhart’s nerves appeared unhinged. Guilt and an element of remorse flashed in her dark eyes. Anger lingered there, too. Everyone had suffered greatly it seemed.
“The longer you stay here, the more you put your life at risk,” Terence added. His tone lacked compassion, and he shuffled on the spot as if Mr Lockhart was an irritation, an annoying scratch he couldn’t quite reach.
“Perhaps you developed a hearing impediment during my absence,” Mr Lockhart said coldly. “I am not the young man you chased away with morbid tales of the hangman’s noose.” Mr Lockhart laced his fingers with Claudia’s. He brought her hand to his lips and placed a chaste kiss on her knuckles. “My wife wishes to remain in London, and so London is where we shall stay.”
“Then she is as foolish as you are,” Terence spat.
A growl resonated in the back of Mr Lockhart’s throat. “Say what you like about me, but do not dare speak ill of my wife.”
Claudia’s heart fluttered. Heat filled her chest. While she embraced her role as a spinster and mistress of the manor, there was something comforting about knowing a man would fight to protect her. Even when he was merely acting the part.
“How times change.” Selina scowled. “You used to be a man who cared only for himself.”
Lockhart stared down his nose. “That is a lie.”