Deepest Desires of a Wicked Duke(54)
A smile played on his lips. A grim one. “The island isn’t large. All of us men will go together. You will stay here. But watch out for the women.... Hell, I still don’t like leaving you alone.”
“I guess, if you are all together, you will be safe. All of the other men can’t be involved.”
“I damn well hope not.”
Her heart wobbled. Wobbled terribly. “Do be careful.”
“It’s all right, angel. I have a pistol.”
“A pistol?”
“Brought it because I knew you were in danger. And, Portia—be careful kissing the women. One could be our suspect.”
“I’m not . . . I . . .” She sputtered, allowing his to be the last complete and coherent words.
He strode away and rounded up the other men. Saxonby, Rutledge, the Cruel Marquis, the Sporting Corinthian earl—they all filed out through the terrace doors with Sinclair.
“You really are in love with him, aren’t you?”
Jasmine perfume teased her nose and Portia whirled around. She faced the Incognita’s green eyes. “I’m not. I am not that foolish. I won’t forget what you said.”
“You won’t forget it, but I suspect you will ignore it. Let me tell you more about Sin.”
* * *
“We should check where Will was found,” Sin said to the other men accompanying him. Even the footman and the thin, aging butler had come out onto the terrace to assist the search. The ocean wind whipped around them, the air filled with moisture and the tang of salt and dead seaweed.
As Sin looked across the terrace, he wasn’t seeing the smooth flagstones, the grass beyond. He was seeing Portia’s wide-eyed look of sweet surprise, then the sultry look as she kissed Sadie. He was remembering the press of Portia’s rounded breasts against Sadie’s full bosom. Sadie’s hand cupping Portia’s bottom.
He had to stop thinking about it. He had a murder to solve. Murder had touched him before, a long time ago, and he couldn’t let himself think about that either.
Sin started across the terrace with long strides, slowed down, and held back, letting the other men overtake him. He watched. Would any of the men go instinctively to where Willoughby’s body had lain?
One did and it surprised him. The old butler walked to the spot on the still-damp grass and halted. Then he jerked his head around nervously and met Sin’s cool eyes.
“Your Grace, where exactly was the young gentleman found?”
“You’re standing there,” Sin answered. “So you obviously know.”
“I observed the depression in the grass, Your Grace.”
“There wasn’t anything obvious. The rain beat down all the grass.” Straightening, Sin moved to the butler and glared down at the man. “But you knew where to come.”
“I . . . It was pure chance—”
“I don’t think it was. Why did you kill him?”
“K-Kill him?” The man’s eyes bulged. “I did not. You must believe me! I would never murder a peer of the realm! I had no argument with Lord Willoughby! I looked out last night. I saw him there. I saw two people—one must have been Lord Willoughby.”
“Yet you didn’t reveal this before. Did you see Will be murdered?”
“No, Your Grace. No—if I had known the viscount was in danger, I should have sounded the alarm. Gone to his aid at once. I believed the gentlemen were speaking. And I was warned that on occasion there might be . . . certain behaviors between the male guests. Lord Genvere’s instructions quite clearly stated I was to show utmost discretion at all times. I simply closed the drapes and continued with my duty—which was to ensure all windows were closed for the night.”
“You thought Will and this other man were having an assignation.”
The old butler turned red. “It occurred to me that I might be witnessing such a thing, Your Grace. Thus I decided to apply discretion and afford the gentlemen privacy.”
“Who was the other man with him?”
“I can’t say.”
“You bloody well will. That man might have murdered Will.”
“I mean, I cannot say, Your Grace, because I did not clearly see him.”
“Was he taller than Will? Bigger build? What about his hair color?”
“Perhaps similar height to poor Lord Willoughby. He wore a great coat and hat and with the heavy rain, I could make out little.”
An eyewitness who could give them nothing. Damn it.
“Did you see him walk? What kind of gait did he have?”
“They did not walk. I would say I believed him to be inebriated. He staggered once under my observation. I am afraid I can help no further.”