“For accusing you of wishing me harm. Simms and I have been investigating all week, and we’ve found the culprit. A competitor of mine named Connor MacKenzie. I’d met him in Montreal, but he came to see me in Bristol a few weeks ago wanting to go into partnership. I said no, because I disliked the bullying way he did business, but it seems he didn’t like that answer and decided thatif I wouldn’t join him, then he would eliminate me as a rival.”
“How did you discover it was him?”
“I recalled seeing him across the street just before I was almost run down by that cart. When I gave his description to the staff at Wansford Hall, and to the villagers, I found that a man matching his features had called at the Hall asking for work the day before we arrived. Withers had turned him away, but the landlord at the Dog and Duck also remembered him loitering around the day we were shot at in the woods.”
Tess pressed her lips together, determined not to lower herself to saying something as childish asI told you so.
“Simms and I discovered the address of a warehouse he rents here in the docklands, and we paid him a visit.”
She tightened her hands in her lap. “That could have been extremely dangerous.”
“Oh, it wasn’t just the two of us.” A faint smile ghosted his lips. “I took Edward and eight of my burliest deckhands fromThe Tempest, in case he decided to give us a violent welcome.”
“And did he?”
Justin tilted his head. “We had a small altercation. But in the end, he admitted to being the one behind the attacks. Since his confession was witnessed by Edward Hussey—a noted barrister—it was agreed that Mr. MacKenzie would henceforth conduct his business from the other side of the Atlantic, on pain of being immediately arrested and tried for the attempted murder of a peer should he ever set foot in this country again.”
“Goodness,” Tess said faintly. The phrasesmall altercationwas clearly an understatement, but she was glad to see that Justin didn’t appear to have sustained any additional injuries.
He leaned back in his chair and his gray eyes lingered on hers. “You were right. It was nothing to do with you, and I was an idiot to suspect you for a moment.”
“Yes. You were.”
He reached into his coat and withdrew a sheaf of papers.
“I was also an idiot to draw up our agreement. I release you from it with immediate effect.” He tore the paper neatly in two, and in two again, and placed the scraps on the desk before her.
“You will, of course, continue to receive all the benefits from the duchy that we agreed. I’ll have Turnbull make it official. We are still married, and will remain so, but that is all. You never have to see me again if you don’t want to.”
Tess’s heart felt heavy in her chest. A bizarre combination of relief and disappointment warred within her. Was that it? Wasn’t he going to try to persuade her to reconcile? Were they to be no better than strangers from this moment on?
She cleared her throat. “I have some news, too. The queen’s secretaries found details of the loan my father made to the king. It did exist. There’s an agreement in the king’s own hand that confirms it.”
“How much was it for?”
“A thousand pounds. With interest at a rate of five percent per annum for the past ten years, it’s over two thousand pounds now.”
A muscle twitched in his jaw as he pressed his lips together. “I am happy for you. It’s the least you deserve.” He let out a long exhale. “You’re wealthy in your own right now. You can do whatever you please from this day forth.”
Tess didn’t know what to say. This was the goal of self-sufficiency she’d dreamed of for so long, but now that it was here, she felt oddly hollow.
Despite Justin’s words, she wasn’t truly free. She might not be dependent on the duchy financially, but she was still caught in an emotional entanglement withhim.
To be married to him, but forever estranged, seemed the worst kind of torture. A lifelong punishment, like that of King Midas: having him so close, yet being unable to touch him.
Could she really let things end this way? Yes, he’d been an untrusting fool to suspect her, but he’d admitted his mistake. And he’d said he loved her, which was something she’d never thought to hear from his lips, considering his views on romance.
It’s the antithesis of reason and logic.
It’s imbecilic.
Love ruins everything.
A bittersweet ache tightened her chest as she recalled his words. Maybe hewasin love with her. His recent actions certainly fitted those definitions.
As did hers, for wanting to throw herself into his arms now and forgive him. To ask him to move his things back into the house and live with her as her husband in every sense of the word.
To have and to hold, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health.
