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“Men like you are the reason the Marriage Mart is like running the gauntlet for so many unattached ladies.” In some agitation, Caroline stood.

“We don’t want men who have played the rake or rogue, but that doesn’t matter right now.

” She blew out a breath. “Were you outside when Mr. Blythe fell off the roof of the icehouse.”

“No. I was otherwise engaged. ”

“With a woman?” This from Caroline.

“Yes, but it’s not what you think. I love her; she loves me, even before she knew that I would be a duke…

if I choose to make that decision. I would—will—do anything for her.

” His swallow was audible. “I only came because of her, for she’d been invited; we’d planned to announce our engagement…

” He cleared his throat. “Miss Samantha Perkins. You can ask her. She’ll tell you…

but I don’t know how good of a match it will make now that I’m facing such responsibilities with the title… ”

“Or since Mr. Blythe was pretending to be you without your authorization? Making a mess of your name?”

When Felix saw the flash of annoyance in her eyes, he took back the lead. “While Blythe was out doing dares, were you in the immediate area?”

“No.” Lockhart shook his head. “I met Miss Perkins in the hedge maze then we removed to the woods on that side of the property.”

“I assume you invited Blythe here?”

“I did.” He nodded. “But things rapidly got out of hand.”

“Why is that?”

“I argued with Whitmore about coming forward as Kingston’s heir.

He thinks it’s a good idea; I’m not certain.

But shortly before I parted with Blythe for our various pursuits, he argued with another man, one I don’t know.

” He shrugged. “Something about a woman, but I didn’t catch her name, and since I didn’t want to call attention to myself and that I’d been in the paper, I left. ”

Felix pinched the bridge of his nose. “Does Blythe have any enemies?”

“I would have no idea. Perhaps women he made promises to?”

Caroline huffed. “Under your name or his?”

Lockhart shrugged. “Both?” He heaved out a breath. “Look, I was making strides not to be that man any longer. I want a different life because I’d found the woman for me, but Blythe didn’t like that either.”

Felix snorted. “What do you mean?”

“We argued shortly before parting. I told him I wanted to stop switching places; he didn’t. Said he’d ruin my reputation and make certain the duke’s title would be drug through the gossip mill.”

Before Caroline could slap the man, Felix edged toward her and drew her away from the duke’s heir. “There is the possibility the killer had him confused for you. Does anyone here at the house party know that you are next in line to inherit a duchy?”

“Obviously, a few. I would have no idea about the whole guest list.”

He glanced at the makeshift bandage. “How did you injure yourself? ”

“Oh.” A flush rose up his neck above his collar. “Accidentally cut myself when trying to slice bread and cheese for a snack.”

“Very well. Thank you.” Felix exchanged a glance with Caroline, who shrugged. As he flicked his gaze back to Lockhart, he said, “You are not allowed to leave this property until we can either solve this case or clear you and your motives. Do you understand?”

The man narrowed his eyes. “And if I don’t want to be here? If I want to go home?”

“Then I will lock you in a room in this manor. At present, I don’t know if it was your life in danger or Blythe’s. It’s what I’m hoping to find out while working this case.”

Finally, the other man nodded. “I’ll stay, but I would appreciate it if you didn’t reveal that I’m a duke’s heir. I’m not ready for all of that.”

Felix nodded. “I can’t guarantee anything, but I’ll be as discreet as I can.”

“And please don’t frighten Miss Perkins?”

This was beyond any case he’d been on, and when had young people gotten so out of hand? “Again, I can’t make any promises. Besides, if the gossip is to be believed, most of the guests know who you are. My advice to you? Keep to yourself and contemplate your future.”

Since Caroline went out of the room ahead of him, they didn’t speak until they reached the staircase.

“That interview provoked more questions than answers,” she said and there was a trace of disappointment in her expression.

He tamped on the urge to chuckle lest she think he made jest of her. “The likelihood of us finding the killer after conducting two interviews is naught but a dream. Also, you’ll find that people lie the first time we talk.”

“I had no idea how involved Bow Street was in solving crimes.” When she offered him a smile, a wave of awareness went over him. “Thank you for showing me at least that.”

How unexpected. “I’m glad to clear up any misconstrued ideas. Shall we examine the body?”

“Yes. I’m curious about this part as well.”

The enthusiasm gave him a renewed sense of being as well. For far too long, perhaps he’d considered this pedestrian. Seeing someone who hadn’t done this at all find such fulfilment in it set fire to his ennui and gave him back a sense of purpose.

On the way to the icehouse, they didn’t meet many guests. Perhaps they were napping or involved in the various activities the viscountess had scheduled.

“Prepare yourself. Seeing a dead body is something one is not accustomed to, and there is no way to soften the reaction.” With a nod at the footman who guarded the icehouse, he pushed open the door. “Ah, thank you for putting the body on a makeshift table. It makes it infinitely easier to examine.”

The footman gave a curt nod. “We didn’t want to lay the body directly on the ice blocks, so Elias found some wooden planks we used as a table of sorts on top of a ladder.”

“You both did well.” He went into the icehouse steps ahead of Caroline.

“If you have brought your gloves with you, now is a good time to don them.” Once he’d done that himself, Felix went directly to the back wall where copious large blocks of ice waited, packed with straw to slow the melting process.

“Take notes, Miss Ives, as we examine the corpse of Mr. Blythe.”

As he moved to peer into the face of the dead man—or what was left of it since the ball exited somewhere near the left cheek—Caroline rushed from the icehouse. Seconds later, the sounds of retching reached his ears.

When she returned, wiping her mouth with a handkerchief, she cast him an apologetic glance. “I’m sorry. It took me by surprise; I didn’t see the wreck of his face… before.”

“There is no shame here, Miss Ives. Everyone has the same reaction when they see their first body, especially if it is violently murdered. Your constitution builds up over time.” He pointed to the mess of his head wound.

“Clearly, the ball entered at the base of his skull and left through his cheek. Please note that.”

“Right.” The pencil lead scratched across the paper. “Do you, ah, think he was dead before he hit the ground?”

“I should say so. However,” he moved a gloved finger to the neck. “The bruising here happened when the neck broke, which possibly occurred simultaneously with the death. However, there is no way to definitively tell.”

All color drained from her face. “That must have been terrifying,” she managed to whisper.

“In all fairness, the moment the ball entered his head, he was probably unaware of everything.” Felix shrugged. “I, uh, have a habit of reading medical books and physician journals in my spare time. When I was with Bow Street, it helped to be at least a bit familiar with the human form.”

“Impressive.” She moved her gaze to his. “I might have underestimated you.”

“Ha.” Unable to help a chuckle, he began the task of tugging the shirttails from the waist of Mr. Blythe’s breeches. Wanting to distract her from the grim business of death, he asked, “Tell me what you see on the body. What can you tell me about this man based merely upon the clues?”

Slowly, Caroline came closer until she stood beside him. She picked up one of Blythe’s hands. “His knuckles are busted. He was in a fist fight shortly before his death.”

“Good. I wonder with whom? Lockhart? Please continue.” When he’d been with Bow Street, he hadn’t the opportunity to pass on his knowledge to a younger generation. Perhaps he now had the chance with her.

She drew her fingertips along the bottom hem of Blythe’s light blue waistcoat. “There is a stain here.”

“Blood?”

“No, it’s a different viscosity.” Moving forward, she peered close to the garment and gave it a sniff.

“What’s this? It smells like… raspberry.

” Her finely feathered black eyebrows crashed together as she looked at him.

“We had a raspberry trifle at luncheon.” As she pulled back, she noted two other places on his breeches that held the same stains. “Either he was a terribly messy eater…”

“…or he didn’t enjoy the dessert at the table and had taken it, instead, perhaps lying down?

” After all, didn’t Lockhart say both he and Blythe worked the ladies?

On instinct, Felix pushed up the man’s shirt to have a glance at his chest. “There.” He pointed to a spot on the man’s abdomen near the waist of the breeches. “Another bit of dropped trifle jam.”

“I shudder to think of what he—and a friend—did with that trifle. Somehow, I don’t think they were simply eating it.”

The words pulled another chuckle from him.

“Oh, I’ll wager they were eating something .

” And then he winked at her. A blush stained her cheeks.

“Good show with the clues, Miss Ives. Now we need to go through the female guest list and try to figure out who was with Mr. Blythe but not at the luncheon.”

“I’ll inquire with my mother. She would have noticed who wasn’t there.”

“Very well.” Felix nodded. “We should complete the remainder of the examination then close the door to slow decay. I still need to write a letter to his family.”

The rest of their time with the body didn’t reveal anything else of import or scandal.

He cleared his throat. “Why were you walking the acreage last night?”

“Oh, I simply couldn’t spend any more time with my family.

They were insufferable, talking about the house party.

” Caroline gave her head a shake. In such close proximity, the freckles on the upper slopes of her cheeks and bridge of her nose were more prominent.

They were quite compelling. “My sister acts as if she’s the only one who exists.

It’s a Come Out year, not as if she’s marrying the king. ”

Another chuckle left his throat. What the devil is wrong with me? Why do I find this woman so interesting? “Can I assume you’re not one for society functions?”

“I am not.” She scribbled a note in the book. “In fact, I don’t find much use in society at all.”

“Why is that? You’re an attractive woman. Why were your Seasons not successful? ”

“Oh, that’s an easy enough answer.” When she shrugged, the gesture only moved one shoulder. “Probably because I’m not successful.”

He frowned. “How so? You are quite intelligent.”

“The things that interest me are useless to society, according to my mother. She also says it’s those very things that will keep a man from asking for me.

” With a sigh, Caroline closed the notebook and handed it to him, along with the pencil nub.

“Last night, I wanted to chart the stars, perhaps discover a comet or a nebula.”

“That would have been thrilling.” As he pocketed the items, he frowned again, for unaccountably, he’d been enjoying himself.

“Indeed, it would have, but then I realized I’d dropped my telescope, and I feared returning for it in the event you were still… bathing.”

Once more, need shivered through his shaft. “Yes, well, the charm of the night vanished after our exchange.” As best he could, he tidied Blythe’s clothing then removed his gloves and stuffed them into his waistcoat pocket. “What else do you like that your mother frowns upon?”

“Oh…” While crossing the straw-strewn floor, Caroline removed her gloves. She left them on a block of ice near the door. “I enjoy writing fictional books, playing chess, playing card games, reading Go thic novels, and…”

“And?” he asked as he glanced over his shoulder at her while the footman closed the door behind them.

She lowered her voice. “And swimming at midnight sans clothes.”

Damn if he didn’t miss a step and spent the next few seconds trying valiantly to reclaim his balance. “Ah. How interesting.” He couldn’t evict an image of her coming out of the dark water beneath a moon even if he tried. “Those are all worthwhile pursuits.”

Except the swimming one, and that was far too erotic. Why the devil had she said it?

Amusement sparkled in her eyes. “I’ve never done it, but I rather think I’d enjoy it,” she went on to say. “Someday, I’ll summon the courage. Perhaps during the house party if I can find enough motivation.”

“Right.” He shook his head in an effort to clear his thoughts. No more distractions, Kourier. And no women. You don’t need them. “We should continue our interviews.” But the naughty part of his brain was already trying to see how he could be a part of that scandalous motivation…