My Lord Murderer Read Free Page A

the whole business. I tell you, Drew, I don’t think I can hold out much longer.”
    Wys turned to Drew, a pleading look in his eye. “Can’t you even let your sister in on the details?”
    “A good question,” agreed Selby. “Drew’s an obstinate fool in this matter.”
    Drew looked at his brother-in-law contemptuously. “If I told Hetty, the story would be all over town in less than two hours.”
    “Think shame on yourself, Drew Jamison,” said the mild Wys. “That’s an insulting thing to say about your own sister. Next thing you know, you’ll have Selby here calling you out!”
    “Not likely, Wys, old boy,” Selby put in ruefully. “Drew’s absolutely right there. Hetty loves a good gossip, no matter who’s involved, but if her precious brother is the hero of the story, there’d be no holding her back.” And Selby sighed and reached for a plate.
    An angry female snort from the doorway stayed his hand. He looked up to see his wife glaring at him in barely-restrained fury. “I’ve always heard,” she said icily, “that men are worse gossips than women, and now at last I have the proof. Talking about me in that way! For shame! Wystan is the only one of you with a grain of sense.”
    Wystan and Drew got to their feet, but Selby merely put his head in his hands and groaned. “I might have known she’d come,” he muttered. “I should have stayed in bed. I knew I should have stayed in bed.”
    Drew smiled at his sister, who stood barely five feet tall from the bottom of her high-heeled boots to the top of the high-crowned bonnet covering her curly auburn hair—every inch quivering with fury.
    “Mallow must be in need of retraining,” Drew said to no one in particular. “Everyone has simply materialized at my breakfast-room door like a series of unwanted poltergeists. I must speak to the fellow—and severely, too.”
    “Don’t think to put me off with that hum,” Hetty told her brother with asperity. “I told Mallow I would see myself up, as you well know.”
    “Nevertheless, he should not have permitted it. I cannot have my guests eavesdropping at my back, you know.”
    “Eavesdropping! Of all the insulting—! One would think I was skulking behind the furniture instead of standing here in the doorway in plain sight!”
    “But there is so little of you, my dear,” Drew said, smiling at her disarmingly, “that we quite overlooked your presence. But come in, Hetty, come in and have some breakfast with us. No earthly use your standing there sulking, you know. I’m aware that you’re determined to have your say, so we all may as well be comfortable while you say it.” He went to her, took her hand, and led her to the chair Wystan held for her. “I think there’s enough coffee left to offer you a cup. Pass me a cup and saucer from the sideboard, Wys, like a good fellow.”
    Hetty allowed herself to take a seat at the table, but she accepted not a morsel of food and permitted herself no softening of the angry expression of her face. “All this attention and gallantry will do nothing to deter me from my purpose,” she announced firmly. “I intend to get to the bottom of this, and I will not budge until I do.”
    “Wasting your time, my pet,” her husband muttered, settling himself comfortably at the table and loading his plate with a sufficient quantity of foodstuffs to sustain him through the lengthy ordeal he knew would follow. “Your brother is as stubborn as you are. Neither Wystan nor I has been able to move him an inch.”
    “He may be able to withstand the two of you, but he has me to deal with now,” Hetty replied firmly, and she fixed a challenging eye on her brother.
    “You have me all a-tremble,” Drew said with a grin, and he returned his attention to his long-neglected egg.
    “I don’t see why you can’t tell me what happened, especially since you are the hero of the affair,” Hetty began.
    “Hero?” Drew asked in distaste.
    “I heard Selby say so,” she