Petteril's Ladybird by Mary Lancaster

Petteril's Ladybird by Mary Lancaster

Author:Mary Lancaster [Lancaster, Mary]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: historical mystery, Regency mystery, Regency detective, Historical detective, Detective duo
Publisher: Mary Lancaster
Published: 2023-10-31T06:00:00+00:00


Toby Bootle, who, as the heir to his father’s earldom, bore the courtesy title Baron Dilworth, had been finding that even in death his brother succeeded in spoiling his own life. Now that the fool was dead, Dilworth had to deal with the misery of the family and the annoyance of Barret’s mistress. To say nothing of the frustration of having to eschew parties and any other amusements, at least until the end of the month, when the best of the Season would be fizzling out.

An early ride was one of the few things he could still do without upsetting his parents, and for once luck was with him. Louise Austen was riding in the park, too. Admittedly she was with her brother, whom his father had more or less accused of murdering Barret after Dilworth had identified the pistol.

They both looked slightly stunned when he reined in his horse and doffed his hat. “Good morning, Miss Austen. Mr. Austen. A beautiful day, is it not?”

Austen moved instinctively closer to his sister and did not reply. Miss Austen however, said politely. “Indeed it is. I hope you will accept our condolences on the loss of your brother.”

“Thank you, you are very kind.” He could not leave it there. Not after sounding so excessively cheerful, and with Austen so white-lipped and stiff. “Actually, I’m glad I ran into you both. We need to clear the air, Austen.”

“I did not shoot your brother or harm him in any way,” Austen said flatly.

“I know that,” Dilworth said at once. “I had to tell them the pistol was yours—you know yourself it is most distinctive—but truly it was not meant as an accusation. My father, prostrate with grief, would not be reasoned with. I told him it was more likely Mrs. Eastleigh herself or one of her low acquaintances. You have not been charged, have you, Austen?”

“Not yet,” Austen said thinly.

“It should not happen now at all,” Miss Austen added. “Mrs. Eastleigh admitted that Percy gave her the pistol years ago, along with the ammunition, all of which is still in place. It now looks as if that pistol was not the weapon that actually killed your brother and there is no reason to suspect Percy.”

“Only whoever tried to implicate me,” Austen said.

“Good Lord,” Dilworth said, frowning and then letting his brow clear into a smile. He even stretched out his hand to Austen. “I am very glad to hear it. I hope you will forgive any part I played in this...unpleasantness.”

Austen might have hesitated, but he was basically a good-natured man, and soon reached out to clasp Dilworth’s hand while Louise smiled upon them both.

“May I join you for a little?” Dilworth asked.

They could hardly refuse. Even so, Dilworth was well on his way to returning to their good graces by the time another horseman joined them.

“Withy!” Austen greeted this fellow, whom Dilworth recognized as Lord Petteril upon a large, chestnut horse.

Petteril was an intriguing figure, whom he had found an odd acquaintance for Barret when he had called with his condolences.



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