Page 89 of Deceiving an Earl
“Oliver?”
He spun around to find her standing in the doorway, her expression guarded, her body language hesitant.
“What are you doing here?” she asked softly.
“I…” He swallowed, touched by the sight of her, his heart hammering, his hands clammy like he was a lad of Philip’s age, speaking to a woman for the first time.
How could he let her go? How could he walk away if she asked him to?
She stepped fully into the room and closed the door firmly behind her. “We agreed,” she said softly. “We agreed that you would not come back.”
“I never agreed to anything. You told me not to come back.”
“So then why are you here?”
“There is information I just discovered that involves you.”
Her eyes widened, and her cheeks paled. She blinked rapidly a few times as her mouth opened then closed.
She visibly swallowed and seemed to gather her wits. “H-how did you know?”
His brows drew together. “I discovered it myself.”
Her hand flew to her mouth, and her eyes widened even more. “How?”
Alarmed, Oliver took a step toward her, ready to catch her should she fall, but she held a hand out to stop him. “I’m all right,” she said. “I’m just…” She blinked again. “I have no words.”
No words? “So you’ve known all this time? And you let it happen?”
“Known?” She laughed. “Of course I knew. Nearly right away. How could I have not?”
“And this does not seem wrong to you?”
She lifted her chin. “I did what I had to do. For Philip and myself.”
Oliver wanted to shake his head, afraid his ears were clogged. This was not the Ellen he knew. Why was she so desperate to stay with Needham, even knowing he was complicit to murder?
“What hold does this man have over you, Ellen? At least tell me that.”
She frowned. “Hold? Who has a hold over me?”
“Needham.”
Her frown deepened. “I don’t understand.”
“My God, you just admitted that you were aware all along that he was ordering the murders of innocent people.”
“What?” she whispered. “What are you saying?”
Oliver was more confused than ever. “You admitted that you knew Needham was complicit in the murders of several people.”
Using the couch as a crutch, she made her way around it on unsteady legs and plopped down on it.
“Tell me,” she said. “Tell me what you know.”
“You said you knew—”
She waved her hand in the air. “I thought you were talking about something else.”
