Free The Unwanted Heiress by Amy Corwin Page A

you will know me well enough to realize what a good idea this is.”
    Lady Victoria laughed. “Surely that is insufficient time to lose anything, even if you are woefully forgetful.”
    “You would be surprised how easy it is for me to lose everything.”
    “Lady Vee,” Mr. Archer called from mid-way up the stairs. “Are you coming?”
    “Yes, John, in a minute. And say goodnight to Miss Haywood, you impolite beast.”
    Mr. Archer chuckled and sketched a bow. “Goodnight, Miss Haywood, sleep well.” His eyes twinkled as he rubbed the side of his nose with one finger. “And despite what my good wife says, I don’t think you are an impolite beast at all. You strike me as a very well behaved young lady.”
    Lady Victoria laughed as Mr. Archer waved and drifted up the stairs. “The necklace will always be available when you wish to wear it. Pleas e don’t be shy about asking. It is yours at any time.”
    Impulsively, Charlotte kissed her hostess’ cheek and squeezed her hand. “Thank you and good night, Lady Victoria.”
    When her guardians disappeared down the hallway, she gazed after them and said very quietly, “I am sorry, so awfully sorry, but I really am an impolite beast.”

Chapter Seven
    Sudden Deaths, &c.—Information should be sent to the coroner in all cases of sudden or accidental death, or death by violence, or in cases where persons are found dead, or die under suspicious circumstances. — Constable’s Pocket Guide
    Rather than cause panic, Lady Beatrice and her indulgent parents decided not to inform all their guests about Lady Anne’s tragedy. They condescended to send for a Bow Street runner, however, when Nathaniel insisted.
    An investigation was better than letting Lady Anne’s father, Lord Telford, hear a lot of false rumors and mete out his own justice. Telford had the right to challenge whoever had murdered his daughter to a duel, and Nathaniel was uncomfortably aware that if Lord Telford spoke to Sir Henry, Nathaniel might find himself looking down the barrel of a pistol.
    He couldn’t forget the angry glances in the garden after they found the body. Apparently, Bolton had busied himself encouraging the notion that Nathaniel had been involved in Lady Anne’s death. If he had not been a duke, he had no doubt that he would have been beaten soundly and remanded to the hangman after a brief trial by his peers.
    While they waited for the coroner, Nathaniel escorted Lady Anne’s confused parents into a private room and explained what had happened. Upon learning of their daughter’s death, Lady Telford moaned and half-fainted into her husband’s arms.
    “Brandy!” Nathaniel ordered, sending a footman to fetch a bottle with several glasses. “ I am terribly sorry about Lady Anne. If there is anything I can do, please let me know—I am at your service at any time.”
    Hugging his wife, Telford raised his head briefly to nod at Nathaniel. When their carriage arrived, Nathaniel helped the men carefully place Lady Anne’s body, wrapped in her cloak, inside. Her mother stood sobbing in her husband’s arms while the earl watched, his face as white as his neckcloth.
    “I cannot—” Lady Telford broke off with a sob. “I cannot go in the carriage with her. I cannot bear it.”
    Lord Telford pressed his wife’s face into his shoulder while she cried. “Hush, we will wait for the return of the carriage. Hush.”
    They sat down and huddled together on a bench in one of the private rooms, staring dully at the floor, their gray faces creased with exhaustion and shock.
    “Use mine,” Nathaniel said, gesturing to a footman. “There is no need for you to wait here. My driver can bring the carriage back for me later.”
    Mumbling his thanks, Lord Telford put an arm around his wife. When the carriage arrived, the couple stumbled outside and climbed into the vehicle.
    Once the grieving parents left, Nathaniel and several other men, including Bolton, went back out to the garden where the body