Page 87 of Wedded to the Beastly Duke
After a moment’s consideration, he took them up the back stairs, but not the servants’ stairwell. There, with the servants moving almost invisibly about the house, they were more likely to be discovered.
Emmeline’s heart was pounding in her chest. Was this how Nicholas had felt every time he had snuck into their house? Or was he immune to the feeling, having experienced it so many times?
“Left,” Adam murmured in her ear, and at the top of the stairwell, she turned left, into a long corridor with wide windows that bore no curtains.
Faint moonlight painted patterns on the wooden floors, and they kept to the side, making their steps lighter in order to keep any creaking at bay.
Voices made them pause. Light appeared in front of them, pooling and growing closer. Without thinking, Emmeline opened the closest door and they slipped inside, hearts in their mouths.
Of course,this was the moment that Lady Sarron chose to retire for the night. And by the sounds of it, she was giving instructions to her lady’s maid.
“If my husband returns home within the next hour, please alert me,” she said. “I intend to go to bed to read for a while, so I shall still be awake, and I would like to speak with him.”
“Of course, My Lady.”
The voices faded, and Emmeline released a long breath. When silence fell around them once again, she looked up at Adam. “If he returns within the hour?” she whispered. “Is that likely?”
Adam frowned, the darkness adding shadows to his face. “The last I knew he was in London. He would not make such a journey this late at night.”
“Then perhaps you are mistaken?”
“Or she is,” he said grimly. “But you’re right—we mustn’t tarry.”
They waited for a few more seconds before eventually leaving their hiding place and continuing along to Nicholas’s room. Light flickered underneath the door to his wife’s room, and Emmeline could hear murmurs of conversation once again. She held her breath until they passed and stopped in front of another door. It was open, to Emmeline’s relief, and Adam ushered her inside.
As expected, the room was dark. The curtains were not drawn, letting some moonlight in, but she wished for a candle or a lamp that would alleviate the worst of the gloom. How else would they be able to verify any evidence they discovered?
But the risk, at least presently, was too great. Especially when Lady Sarron was awake in the adjoining room.
Adam pressed a finger to his lips and gestured to the writing desk in the corner. Methodically, they approached and began to work their way through all the correspondence kept there. From what they could tell, holding the letters up against the light, most of them were inconsequential. A letter from the steward about the condition of the fields around the estate, another about possible contamination in the well.
Nicholas, it soon turned out, was meticulous in keeping records, and kept written evidence of most events, including social engagements.
Very few, notably, appeared to involve his wife. Emmeline’s pity for the poor woman grew. No matter how Adam cared for his friend, there was no denying he had not acted in an honorable way toward his wife.
Or perhaps Emmeline was lucky—she had a husband who valued her and wanted to spend time with her. Who attended social events onherbehalf.
That very same husband reached under Nicholas’s bed, under the mattress, and felt around. When he pulled his hand out, he held a packet of letters tied by a piece of string.
“These,” he murmured. “These must be what we were looking for.”
They both crossed to the window and strained their eyes against the dim light, flipping the first letter over and examining the signature on the back.
Adam let out a hoarse exclamation. “That’s my brother’s name.”
ChapterTwenty-Five
They waited until they had returned to their carriage, the lamps lit and casting enough light to read by, before they turned their attention to the letters again. Emmeline took half while Adam took the other half, and they read in silence as they digested the words written on the paper in flowing script.
These were… love betters.
William Hansen, the former Duke of Kant, had been in love with Nicholas. And, if the tone of the letters was anything to go by, the sentiment was returned.
Adam looked dazed, slumping back into his seat as though he had taken a blow to the head. Emmeline read on, hardly able to believe what she was hearing.
The fact that the affair had been so very clandestine was hardly a surprise, for being with another man was illegal. If anyone had found out, they might have risked ruin.
Well, perhaps not that extreme. Plenty of other peers had similar liaisons, she knew, and the truth had been dismissed. Brushed aside in favor of maintaining the status quo.
