Free Lord Ruthven's Bride by Tarah Scott Page A

expression grim.
    “I feel certain the contents of the tin box will convict Lord Harley of the four murders,” Lord Ruthven said.
    “Not to mention his abduction of Annabelle and Lena,” she said. “Where is the earl now?”
    “Mr. Benning took him to the magistrate.”
    “We know Henry quite well. If Carson doesn’t arrive soon I will send a message that he is not to release the earl. My husband told me how you found Annabelle snooping in Lord Harley’s study. I assume that is what started this chain of events?”
    Annabelle gasped and jerked her gaze onto Lord Ruthven. He’d betrayed her.
    “Do not blame him for telling us,” her mother said. “Rifling through a man’s property is serious business. Your father and I were going to speak to you about the matter when you returned from Miss Morgan’s party. We could never have imagined you would nearly get yourself killed between then and now.”
    Tears pressed against Annabelle’s eyes and she feared she would embarrass herself by blubbering like a little girl.
    Rapid bootfalls sounded in the hallway. Annabelle tensed and, in the next instant, the door burst open and her father entered, followed by Josephine’s husband. Annabelle gave a small gasp when Calum stepped into the doorway behind them.
    His gaze locked onto her. “Lady Annabelle.” He took a step forward, then seemed to catch himself and stopped. 
    Annabelle caught the look that passed between Josephine and Nicholas, but had no time to try and decipher its meaning.
    “Everyone is well?” her father demanded.
    Footsteps echoed behind them and the two men turned as Graham ushered in Dr. McKinley.
    Annabelle’s father looked sharply at Lady Montagu as she rose. “What happened?”
    “Nothing serious, Carson. Lena has a small gash on her temple.”
    Her father’s eyes darkened. “What is your part in this, Ruthven?”
    “He saved the girls,” Annabelle’s mother said.
    “Just as you saved my wife and daughter last night?” he snapped.
    Lord Ruthven gave a stiff nod. “Aye, my lord.”
    “Perhaps they wouldn’t have needed saving if not for you.”
    “It is more likely we wouldn’t have needed saving if not for Annabelle’s curiosity,” her mother said. Her father glanced uncertainly between Annabelle and Lord Ruthven, and her mother added, “Dr. McKinley, your patient is here.” She gestured toward Lena, who rose and crossed to them. “Graham, please take them to Carson’s private study.”
    Patient and doctor left, and Annabelle wished mightily that she could leave with them. But she had no wound with which to garner sympathy. Calum still stared as if he wanted to scoop her up and whisk her away...just as Lord Ruthven had done when he saved her from Lord Harley. A strange tremor radiated through her. The viscount had put himself in harm’s way to save her. She’d been terrified, had fought him, but when she heard his voice, she’d wanted him to wrap his arms around her as he had the night before in the garden and never let go. Annabelle started from her thoughts. Lord Ruthven was again recounting what had happened, while Calum still stared.
    Lord Ruthven finished and Annabelle’s father wrote and sent a message to the magistrate that commanded him to hold Lord Harley until he had heard Lord Ruthven’s story.
    “It seems I owe you a great deal,” her father said to Lord Ruthven.
    The viscount gave a deferential cant of his head. “You are welcome, my lord.”
    Calum stepped forward. “I, too, must offer my deepest thanks. I can never repay you for saving Lady Annabelle.” He extended a hand.
    Surprise flickered in Lord Ruthven’s eyes. He accepted Calum’s hand, if a bit stiffly, and shook. Annabelle realized Lord Ruthven wasn’t accustomed to being in the company of a marquess—two marquesses, counting her father.
    “Tomorrow I will speak with Henry. Ruthven, you will be there for the meeting, I assume?” her father asked Lord Ruthven.
    “Aye, but first I will