Page 16 of The Lovers
The old woman jutted her chin out toward the girl, who seemed not to hear or notice anything other than the branches moving in the wind outside the window. Elise stole a peek at the girl, confused. She was told that Edward Asher had no children by his first marriage, but her mother-in-law was clearly implying that the girl was her husband’s daughter.
“Oh, yes. She’s Edward’s daughter. Two stillborn sons and then a dimwit. Should have been her that died. I’d have had her locked up, you know, but Edward insisted that we treat her with kindness,” the dowager said with disgust. Elise gasped, but the girl seemed to pay her grandmother no heed. She either didn’t hear or didn’t understand. Or perhaps she was used to such abuse and chose to ignore it.
“I must admit that I never expected the bastard to be of any use. I told Edward to wash his hands of the both of them, but he wouldn’t listen to me. Inherited his father’s misguided sense of honor. His father was a foolish man,” she added bitterly. “Felt he had to care for his bastards and instructed Edward to do the same. It’s unheard of, but Edward felt some sense of duty. I’m glad to see that the money didn’t go to waste. His sister, of course, is a different matter altogether. I was glad to see the back of her, I’ll gladly tell you that. Still, I suppose we ought to be thankful. The Good Lord always has a plan.”
Elise doubted the Good Lord had hatched this particular scheme, but she bit her tongue and remained silent. Rallying against her situation or the people who created it would do little good, especially until she’d had a chance to study the lay of the land. Her head sprang up as the dowager addressed her again.
“Are you listening to me, you silly goose, or are you as dimwitted as Barbara?”
“Yes, your ladyship, I’m listening.”
“Here, take these.” The old woman handed Elise a brass ring hung with numerous keys. “You will take over the running of the household, as is right and proper. It’ll keep you busy and away from useless pursuits. You will, however, consult me on any changes you wish to make. Is that understood?”
“Yes, madam.”
“Good. Now go.”
Thus dismissed, Elise left the room. She had no idea what the keys were for, but she would find out everything she needed to know from the servants. They usually knew more about the running of the household than the mistress herself. At least she’d have something to do with her days. Elise wondered if there might be a library. Her father hadn’t approved of reading for pleasure, preferring to read scripture every night, but Elise had a fondness for poetry and plays. Perhaps her husband wouldn’t notice if she borrowed a volume or two. She’d decided not to ask his permission. Her mother always said that it was easier to apologize for something after the fact rather than openly defy a husband’s decree, and Elise was beginning to see the wisdom of that advice.
Elise walked along the ground floor corridor, opening one door after another until she found what she’d been looking for. The library wasn’t a large one—downright meager, one might say—but there were some well-thumbed books, and several plays displayed on the polished shelves. She was just reaching for a calf-bound folio when James stepped out from behind a shelf, a scowl on his face.
Elise opened her mouth to say something, but the wave of heat that washed over her left her speechless and stained her cheeks beet red. Her gaze slid away from his face in embarrassment, recalling only too well the liberties James had taken with her person last night. She felt a stab of resentment, glad that James seemed equally uncomfortable. He gave her a quick bow, muttered something that sounded likegood morrow, and left the library. Elise sank into a leather chair and leaned her head back. She felt humiliated and used, but most of all, she felt lonely and scared. There was no one she could turn to for comfort, no one who could be told of her predicament. Forlorn tears slid down her cheeks as she recalled Gavin’s offer. If only she could turn back the clock, she’d go away with him without a moment’s hesitation.She believed she was doing her duty to her family, but her family had failed her. She’d been sold into what could only be described as sexual slavery. She had no voice, no options, and she wasn’t likely to get any sympathy from her new kin. She had to find a way to make peace with her situation and pluck some measure of contentment from this farce of a marriage.
ELEVEN
OCTOBER 2013
London, England
“Dr. Allenby.” The voice came from far away, like a whisper on the wind, as someone gently shook Quinn by the shoulder. “Are you all right?”
Quinn reluctantly returned to the present, blinking in surprise as the brilliant hues of autumn foliage replaced the stark bleakness of the winter morning. A man was squatting in front of her, his eyes searching her face for signs of illness.Madness, more like, Quinn thought as she allowed her gaze to finally focus on him. He looked vaguely familiar, but she couldn’t quite place him, especially at this moment, when she was still straddling two different worlds and felt disoriented and confused.
“Dr. Allenby?” the man prompted.
“Yes, thank you. I’m quite all right. Just daydreaming,” Quinn replied, suddenly self-conscious. How long had he been trying to get her attention? She never allowed herself to experience a flashback in public, only handling objects that belonged to the deceased in a controlled environment and on her own, but her spot under the tree felt deceptively private, and she’d felt an overwhelming urge to get a glimpse of the girl found in the chest. Something about her slight form tugged at Quinn’s heart, and she felt a desperate need to at least put a name to the anonymous remains. Quinn hastily stuffed the brooch back into the plastic bag and shoved it into her bag before turning her attention to the stranger, who was still hovering over her.
“Have we met?” she asked, rather more haughtily than she intended. She’d just realized that he called her by her name, but she couldn’t recall being introduced to him.
“Not officially, no, but I’ve read several of your articles and have seen you on television,” he replied. His smile seemed friendly, but his gaze was still watchful, as if he wasn’t convinced that she was telling the truth and would suddenly have some sort of a fit. “Rhys Morgan,” he finally offered as he held out his hand. “From the BBC. I’ve actually just had a meeting with Gabriel Russell. I spotted you as I was walking past and thought I’d say hello. Are you sure you’re all right?” he asked again.
“Yes, Mr. Morgan. I’m all right, as I’ve just explained,” Quinn retorted angrily. She instantly regretted her cutting tone when she saw his expression go from genuine concern to surprise at being spoken to so rudely. She hadn’t meant to sound hostile, but she felt foolish in the extreme and just wanted to put her momentary lapse in judgment behind her.
“I’m sorry if I disturbed you, Dr. Allenby. I’ll call your office and make an appointment for a meeting in a more formal setting.” The man got to his feet and began to walk away.
“Mr. Morgan. Wait,” Quinn called out as she scrambled to her feet. “I didn’t mean to be rude. You just caught me by surprise, that’s all. Shall we start again?” she asked, giving him her most disarming smile.
Rhys Morgan turned back and studied her for a moment, his expression thoughtful. It took him a moment too long to respond but having made up his mind, he walked back to her and held out his hand. “Rhys Morgan,” he said again as a small smile played about his lips.
“Quinn Allenby,” Quinn responded.
“Can I interest you in a cup of coffee?” he asked carefully. “Or do you already have plans?”
“No, actually I was going to stop by my office to pick up a few papers, but that can wait. A cup of coffee would be lovely.”
“Come on, then, there’s a little Italian bakery not far from here. They make excellent cappuccino, and their cheesecake is a particular weakness of mine.”
“Lead the way,” Quinn said as she picked up her bag and slung it over her shoulder. Some residue of Elise’s anguish still swirled in Quinn’s mind, but she would have to return to Elise later, when she was on her own and could begin to make sense of what she’d seen. At this moment, Quinn was more interested in the meeting between Gabe and Rhys Morgan, especially since whatever they’d discussed seemed to involve her.
