My Lord Murderer Read Free Page B

persisted.
    “I thought you said you didn’t eavesdrop,” Selby put in defensively.
    “To eavesdrop is to overhear on purpose. I overheard quite by accident,” his wife retorted. “Now, Drew, I want to know how you can be a hero and a murderer at the same time.”
    “A murderer!” Wystan said with a shudder. “You cannot believe that, surely.”
    “Of course I don’t believe it. But all of London does, and I won’t have it!” Hetty said passionately.
    “Hang all of London!” Drew said impatiently. “As long as you all are convinced of my innocence, I don’t care a fig for the rest of London. Can’t we drop this fruitless subject? I’m finding this whole discussion a frightful bore.”
    “No, we can not ! I’m not going to permit people to malign my own brother. If you are innocent, why can’t we spread the true story and scotch these dreadful rumors?”
    “Because,” Selby explained patiently, “Drew feels that certain innocent parties will be hurt by the full disclosure.”
    Hetty looked shrewdly at the three men. “If it’s Gwen Rowle for whom you’re concerned, you needn’t be.”
    Drew’s eyebrows went up perceptibly, and his look sharpened. “Oh?” he asked carefully. “Why not?”
    “Well,” said Hetty, leaning forward confidentially, “she and I were well on the way to being intimates before her husband was killed. The fact that my brother killed him has dampened our friendship somewhat, but not completely. She places no blame on me , you know.”
    “I should hope not !” her husband said, scandalized at the idea.
    “But I gather from little things she let slip that she and Lord Rowle were not getting on well. She gave me the strongest feeling that she was not happy—that she felt she’d made a horrible mistake in marrying him.”
    Wystan shook his head. “But her grief at his death! Why, it was the talk of London! And when I called on her to express my condolences, she was quite inconsolable. I found it almost … well, one hesitates to condemn a bereft widow, but I would say it was excessive .”
    “That’s the very word I would have expected you to use,” Selby said, with a knowing wink at Drew. But Drew’s eyes were fixed on Hetty with a look of guarded speculation.
    “You say she was not happy with him?” he asked intently. “Are you sure?”
    “Yes, I am, despite her ‘excessive’ grief.”
    “Do you mean you think her grief was feigned ? That she was only play-acting?” Wystan asked incredulously.
    “No, of course not. I think it was a kind of … oh, dear, how can I explain what I feel? … a kind of…” and she floundered for a word.
    “Expiation?” Drew offered, watching his sister’s face with interest.
    Hetty looked up at him gratefully. “Yes! Yes, that’s the very word! As if she were trying to make up, by her grief, for the … unwifely feelings she had for him while he was alive.”
    There was a pause in the conversation while they all tried to imagine the strange marriage which had come to such a tragic end. Finally, Wystan broke the silence. “Do you think that this information relieves Drew of the necessity of protecting Gwen Rowle from the full knowledge of the details of her husband’s death?”
    “Yes I do. If Rowle’s end—as I suspect—was as cowardly and ignominious as his life, it will come as no great shock to her.”
    Selby looked at his wife with admiration. “I think you’re right, Hetty, for once. If a man is a loose screw and a rotter, his wife is bound to realize it before very long. What good are we doing, Drew, to protect Lady Rowle from something she already knows?”
    Drew didn’t answer. He was lost in a brown study, his lips curled in a small, secret smile, his eyes fixed on the middle distance. Wys watched him in annoyance. “Come now, Drew, you can’t still refuse us permission to clear your name! Hetty has given us an excellent reason why secrecy in this matter is unnecessary.”
    Drew turned to him,