Richard took her arm as the servants all began to leave. “Did you and your sisters wish to freshen up before the meal?”

“I thought we were going to head straight back to London?” she said with surprise.

“The men convinced me to alter the plans slightly,” he said quietly, urging her to follow the servants outside. “I’m sure you and your sisters would like to wash and change after the long journey today, and a meal would be nice too.”

“I suppose,” Christiana murmured as they started toward the house. It would be pleasant to have a quick wash and change of clothes, then a meal before setting out again. “But Richard, I have been thinking. You can’t pay this blackmailer.”

“I don’t want to,” he admitted, “And we will do what we can to catch the blackmailer rather than pay, but I also won’t risk it getting out that George tried to kill me and married you in my name. The scandal would destroy you and ruin any chance of your sisters marrying well.”

Christiana stared. His concern was for her and her sisters. He hadn’t suddenly changed . . . yet. Clearing her throat, she said, “That is very thoughtful, but I suspect if you pay him once, the blackmailer will continue to demand money. And it just isn’t right that you should have to pay when all of this is George’s fault to begin with, especially since you didn’t kill him.”

“And you and your sisters shouldn’t have to pay by suffering the scandal either,” he pointed out quietly, glancing around to be sure no one was close enough to overhear their conversation. “George was my brother. If anyone is going to pay, it should be me.”

Christiana frowned. She didn’t want a scandal any more than he did. Her sisters would suffer horribly from it, but . . . She wasn’t foolish enough to think if they paid once, it would be done. The blackmailer would no doubt ask for more later, and then again, and this would hang over all their heads until they were all dead and buried. Frowning, she asked, “Can we not take the body to the authorities, claim George didn’t die in the fire after all as we had all assumed, but that he was the one away in America this last year? That he left a letter to that effect when he departed, but it apparently burned up in the fire. We can say he returned because he was feeling unwell and that we found him dead in his bed this morning. The authorities can examine him, will find he died of natural causes and all will be well.” She smiled widely, sure she’d found the answer. “That way there would be no scandal, and no way the blackmailer could blackmail us.”

“Ah, well. . .” Richard grimaced, and then sighed and admitted, “Actually, Daniel and I suspect George was murdered.”

“What?” she asked with shock and stopped walking.