Page 10 of One Wicked Secret
“Yes.” The man’s fumbled proposal had caught her off-guard. “He said Lord Denby was cold and callous and suggested he could save me from a life of abject misery.” Perhaps that’s why Magnus disobeyed their father’s written command and asked her to marry Daniel Dalton.
I thought I had to marry Lord Denby.
I need you to marry a man I can trust.
Did Magnus know about the sorry state of affairs?
Did he know his faith in their neighbour was misplaced?
“Did you have feelings for Carver?”
Oh, how could he be so blind?
“Of course not. He is kind and handsome and would make a fine husband.” She hoped the remark pricked his temper. “But Magnus told me to marry you. I never got a chance to refuse Mr Carver because he left for London on business for a month.”
Had Mr Carver resigned because she had married Daniel? It was unlikely. Mr Carver knew she held no affection for him.
“And now you wish you’d packed a valise and taken thestage to Gretna Green. The idea must satisfy a romantic fantasy.”
“You sound jealous.”
“Concerned, perhaps.”
The desperate look in his eyes said he was suspicious of Mr Carver. Did that account for his sudden change towards her? The playful rogue had been superseded by a cold-hearted beast.
“Nothing happened between Mr Carver and me.”
Did Daniel think they’d kissed or made love? It would explain why he hadn’t consummated their union and abandoned her for six months. Good Lord! Did he fear she might be carrying Mr Carver’s child? Was he waiting until nine months had passed, just to be certain?
“I swear to you,” she pressed, a little panicked, “I have shared nothing more than pleasantries with him.” She waited for Daniel to nod and acknowledge her oath, but it was obvious he wasn’t sure whether to believe her. “How could you think I would do such a thing?”
“I know you wouldn’t entertain Carver intentionally.”
The comment hit hard.
He did think they had been intimate.
“Believe me,” she cried, her heart bouncing in time with the carriage wheels, each jolt sending a fresh wave of panic shooting through her. “I would not have married you under false pretences. Magnus insisted we marry because he trusts you, not because he wanted to conceal a transgression.”
Tears of frustration burst through her defences like water finding cracks in a dam.
Daniel leant forward, taking the handkerchief from the coat draped around her shoulders and offering it to her. “Whatever happened between you and Carver was not yourfault.” Their fingers brushed briefly, but he didn’t hold her hand or give it a reassuring squeeze.
“Nothing happened! Mr Carver is?—”
“Dead, Elsa. Carver is dead.”
She blinked rapidly, moisture clinging to her lashes. “Dead?” The word hung between them, heavy with the weight of finality. “How? When? You said he’d resigned.” She paused, the truth obvious now. “You lied. You’ve been lying for months. What is this all about? And don’t insult me by saying ‘nothing’.”
Had Magnus killed Mr Carver?
Is that why he fled to Geneva?
She plastered her hand to her mouth, nausea roiling in her stomach, the truth as clear as day. Magnus was never coming home. Daniel would never be a doting husband. She would spend the rest of her life alone and unloved.
Daniel sat, lips as tight as a miser’s purse strings.
“Well? What do you have to say?”
