Page 103 of Lady Gambit
“He left this.” Simpson drew a sealed letter from his apron pocket and gave it to Dorian. “The poor devil has gone back to Winchester but said all the details are in the note.”
“Winchester?” Dorian examined the paper and scanned the wax seal. “Did he mention the nature of his business?”
“No, he just said you were a beneficiary.”
A beneficiary?
It did not take Aristotle’s logic to solve the puzzle.
He thanked Simpson, clasped Delphine’s hand and led her upstairs to his bedchamber. He locked the door, lit the lamp and closed the curtains.
“It’s chilly in here.” He turned to find her studying him intently.
“I’m sure we’ll be warm soon.” She glanced at the letter he’d placed on the nightstand. “Aren’t you going to open it?”
“Tomorrow.” He reached for her hands and drew them to his lips in turn. He wanted to make love and discuss marriage, not deal with a flurry of old emotions. “I don’t want to think about anything but us and our future.”
Amusement danced in her eyes. “When we make love tonight, it will be a new beginning. A time to focus on ourselves. To make happiness our priority. Let’s deal with any unanswered questions now.”
It wasn’t the letter that bothered him so much as the need to tell her about her grandfather. But she was right.
He reached for the letter and tore open the seal. A quick read revealed a pleasant surprise. “Good Lord.”
She touched his chest. “I trust it’s good news.”
“Do you remember I mentioned my old tutor? Mr Brown taught Classical Studies. We read philosophy and played chess together on the occasions I was left at school.”
“I remember. You credit him with your love of Aristotle. Did he leave you his library?”
Dorian reread the letter, somewhat shocked. “Yes, along with his house in Winchester.”
“His house?”
He knew Mr Brown had no family—there’d been but a handful of people at his funeral—but the gift brought a tear to his eye. “It will mean a trip to Winchester.”
She slipped her arms around him. “When do we leave?”
“As soon as we’re married.”
“You haven’t asked me. I might refuse.”
“Like hell you will.” He captured her chin and poured everything of himself into a toe-curling kiss. “Your mouth betrays you. You can’t wait to have me in your bed every night.”
“Our bed,” she corrected. “I’ll not sleep in separate rooms.”
“I fear we might not sleep at all.” The secret he’d been keeping pushed to the forefront of his mind. “When we visit Winchester, we might venture to Chichester, then tour the south coast. Make a honeymoon of it.”
Love lived in her beaming smile. “How could I refuse an opportunity to have you all to myself? Though why Chichester?”
He threw the letter onto the bed and captured her face in his hands. “Daventry told me something tonight.” He paused, knowing nothing he said would make his job easier. “Your paternal grandfather is alive and living in Chichester. I thought you might like to visit.”
Her throat worked tirelessly as she absorbed the information, though no words left her lips. Tears gathered in her eyes, and she buried her head in his chest and wept like the sound came from her soul.
When she found the strength to look at him, she said, “Does he know I survived? Did he ever try to find me?”
He dried her cheeks with his thumbs. “We can ask Daventry tomorrow. I’m certain he has your grandfather’s address.”
Lost in thought, she nibbled her lip. “What if he doesn’t want to see me? What if he can’t bear to relive the painful memories?”
