“I have no intention of telling her that, and you’d best not either,” Daniel said grimly. “And don’t even think about offering to pay off the father’s gambling debts. I shall attend those myself whether I marry her or not.”

More than a little fascinated, then, Richard thought with amusement, and asked, “Why should I not offer to pay them off? It would remove the pressure the women are under.”

“Suzette is not enthralled with the idea of marrying after all she’s learned about Christiana’s experiences this last year. She may very well bury herself in the countryside and eschew marriage altogether should she learn it isn’t a necessity, and I can hardly get to know her better if she is at Madison Manor and I am at Woodrow.”

“Ah,” Richard murmured, understanding more than his friend was telling. Whether he knew it or not, Daniel had already decided to marry the girl. At least that was his opinion, “Fine, I shall refrain from offering to pay . . . for now.”

Daniel relaxed at once. “Thank you.”

Richard waved his gratitude away and changed the subject. “The good news is that since I’ve decided to uphold the marriage to Christiana, we can simply dispose of you know who. I was considering our options on the way here—”

“That might not be the best idea,” Daniel interrupted quietly. When Richard raised an eyebrow in question, he added, “I think perhaps it would be best not to dispose of him at all yet. At least not until we sort out this business of who killed him.”

Richard sat back with a frown. “Why? It is not as if he can be a witness in his own murder.”

“No, but we cannot prove murder without a body,” Daniel pointed out and then added, “Whoever poisoned him will soon think they failed, if they don’t already. They will try again.”

“Then I shall have to be careful,” Richard said grimly. “But I see no need to keep you know who around until we catch his killer. We can charge whoever it is with attempted murder when they try to kill me.”

Daniel frowned. “It just seems to me to be smarter to keep you know who around until we have it all sorted out.”

“Very well,” Richard said finally. “Have you hidden him somewhere safe?”

“Er . . . well, actually no,” he admitted, looking uncomfortable. “I placed him in the pavilion in the back garden for the night.”

“In the . . . ?”

“It was the only place I could think of. I needed somewhere cold but covered, and that was all I could come up with at the time. But he shall have to be moved before too much longer.”

“Yes, he definitely needs to be moved,” Richard agreed grimly.

“I had an idea about that too.”

“Do tell,” Richard requested dryly.

Daniel ignored his sarcasm. “I thought it might be best to put him back in the master bedroom.”