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Determining that the drawing room would likely overlook the street, Aidan rushed to the far door without the slightest concern for the measured tread of the butler ascending the stairs behind him. Gripping the handle, he threw the door open.

Across the room, Lily and her husband sat on a settee, his tiny sister pale and trembling, with the new baron’s arm protectively encircling her waist.

“Lily!”

She looked up sharply as Aidan strode into the chamber. He knew he must present a wild figure. His coat askew, his boots muddied, and his face flushed from his sprint through the streets of Mayfair.

“Aidan? How did you get here so quickly?”

Even from the doorway, he saw it. The redness around her slender neck. The blackguard had laid hands upon her. Aidan felt something crack inside his chest, an anguish so acute he could scarcely breathe.

It is my fault!

“Ran here … as soon as we heard the news … Left our parents … to take the carriage … Terrifying … to hear you had been attacked. I …” His words came ragged between gasps as he crossed the room and dropped to one knee before her. Taking her hands in his, he gave a shuddering exhale. “This is my fault! If I had taken care of you that night, instead of abandoning you to carouse with my friends …”

Lily frowned and pulled gently on his lapels before leaning forward to enfold him in a soft embrace. “It is not, Aidan. I am well. Gracious, you must have run like the very wind.”

“I should never have left you alone.”

“But you did. And now I am married.” Her smile was small but genuine. “Life goes on.”

Aidan groaned. His chest constricted, the weight of culpability pressing heavy upon his ribs. “Until it does not.”

“I am safe,” she insisted. “See, you are speaking with me at this very moment. The entire matter is settled.”

He pulled back slightly to better study her face. From this distance, near enough to see each freckle across her cheeks, he saw the cruel bruising on her throat. It turned his stomach. That anyone could harm a girl so full of life and goodness was beyond comprehension. If the footman still lived, Aidan would not trust himself not to commit violence then and there.

“Is it over? Was the footman the one who committed the murder?”

Brendan Ridley, now Baron of Filminster, cleared his throat. “No, I am afraid not. He claims he was paid to conceal the identity of the killer. At least we know now that it was nobody in the household.”

Aidan sprang to his feet. “How do we know it is true?”

Filminster rose too, stepping into the center of the room. “I suppose we shall search his things to find evidence of the payoff.”

Aidan’s jaw clenched. “If it is true, then there is still a killer out there. Someone who might harm my sister!”

“We will keep our guards to patrol the house⁠—”

“What?”

Filminster looked to Lily, who had sat upright in alarm.

“They need not follow you about,” he amended quickly. “Simply take care of our home until we know we are safe. In addition to that, we will have a new housekeeper and maids at the end of the week, so Ridley House will be properly staffed, along with a new lady’s maid. It will be far more difficult for any attempt at intrusion once there is a full staff on duty.”

Lily turned to Aidan. Her gaze was clear and steady, and though she remained pale, there was steel behind her quiet poise.

Aidan did not fully relax, but he gave a grudging nod. “See that you do, Filminster. My sister is irreplaceable.”