Truly Yours by Bárbara Metzger

these were the army’s invincible interrogators? For that matter, these were her only hope of rescue?
    She turned her attention back to Mr. Stamfield, who politely raised her hand, and said, “Anything you need, I shall see that Rex provides.”
    She did not laugh at the teasing. “You are too kind.”
    “Any friend of my aunt’s is my friend,” he insisted, lowering his body carefully into a chintz-covered chair. Lord Rexford chose to stand near the hearth.
    “Then you believe me innocent?” Amanda asked.
    “I did not say that. Some of my best friends are scoundrels, and my own aunt is not above blackmailing a chap to get her own way. Not that I am saying you aren’t innocent. That’s what we’re here to find out. Then we can decide the proper course to take.”
    Now Lord Rexford stepped closer. Amanda could see the strain in his blue eyes, and the scar showing white against his tanned skin. “I suppose you have heard of our reputation?”
    She would not flinch. “That you get the truth any way that you can?”
    He was the one who winced at the bald statement. “You need not be afraid. Just answer our questions honestly, that is all I ask. As I promised, I will still help you no matter what you tell me, even if you say you have been planning to murder your stepfather for months and do not regret it now.”
    “I have told the truth to everyone,” Amanda said, hating the catch in her voice and the dampness in her eyes. “I never attempted to lie about anything. No one listened to me. Now you tell me to speak honestly. Why should I think that you will believe what I say?”
    Rex brushed his thumb across her cheek, catching the tear that fell. “Because I know it will be the truth.”

Chapter Nine
    I do not understand.”
    “No, I cannot suppose you do.”
    Amanda waited for an explanation that never came. Instead Lord Rexford seemed to grow angry again. “It is irrelevant, and we are wasting time. Sir Nigel Turlowe wants a conviction, damn his black heart to hell. Begging your pardon.”
    Amanda nodded, wishing she could curse, too.
    Lord Rexford had turned from gentle shepherd to the wolf that ate the sheep. He started pacing, while his dog watched from beside Daniel’s chair. “The trial is set for almost a month away, but every day that passes makes the task of an acquittal more difficult.”
    “I . . . I see.” Amanda saw the hangman’s noose, the crowds coming to watch, the thick rope dangling, waiting. She clutched the blanket again.
    “Stop, Rex, can’t you see you are frightening the poor woman?”
    He was frightening himself, too, to have her very life depending on him. “I apologize once more, Miss Carville.”
    “There is no need. I am aware of my dire straits and your uncomfortable position in assisting me.”
    “But you might not be aware that Sir Nigel despises my father and wishes to discredit him further for some reason. Embarrassing Lady Royce would suffice, I suppose, or dragging me into his vendetta.”
    “Then I am a mere pawn in his grudge? I would not be in this fix if two men were not feuding?”
    “Sir Nigel did not put the gun in your hand, did he?”
    “No, I did that.”
    “Very well. Let us begin there. The weapon was in your hand. Sir Frederick was shot. Did you shoot him? This is a simple question, answerable with no roundaboutation, if you please.”
    “No. I wished him dead many times, but I did not kill him. I did not!”
    Rex looked toward his cousin who held his hands up, palms out. “No rash.”
    Rex nodded. “True-blue,” was all he said. Everyone was silent for a minute, thinking.
    Amanda was thinking that her saviors were crazy.
    Finally the viscount said, “In a way it would have been easier if you had shot the lowlife.”
    “How could that be better for me?”
    “Because then we could have pled self-defense, a threat to your life, extenuating circumstances. You might have thought he was a burglar. Anything. We might manage to have you sentenced