Page 24 of One Wicked Secret
The viscount turned to Elsa. “Did you believe Carver was in love with you? Or did you suspect some other motive for his illicit offer?”
Elsa shrugged. She was hardly a good judge when it came to a man’s affections. “Mr Carver was always a gentleman and seemed to think he could save me from a tragic marriage.”
“She speaks of Lord Denby,” Daniel said.
Lord Rutland laughed. “You deserted your bride on your wedding night. I think that qualifies as tragic.”
Daniel bowed his head.
“As my husband said,” Elsa interjected, feeling a need to defend him because none of this was his fault, either, “my safety was uppermost in his mind.” Daniel could have refused to give Magnus his two shillings. Where would that have left her? “All that matters now is finding the journal and ending this nightmare.”
“I suspect the real nightmare is about to begin,” the lord said in an ominous tone. “The villain has already murdered one man to hide his secret.”
Daniel sat forward. “You raise a valid point. Helping us could mean risking your life. I respect your right to refuse. You’re to announce your betrothal to Miss Woodall in a month.”
The viscount grimaced. “Perhaps fate brought you here tonight.”
“Fate?”
“Death is the only thing that can save me from marrying Miss Woodall.”
Chapter Five
Thorncroft
Chippenham, Wiltshire
Thorncroft rose from the darkness, its silhouette stark against the night sky, its stone facade and shuttered windows a grim reminder of its former master. No light shone from within; no warmth seeped from its eerie depths.
Green fields and majestic yews created an air of mysterious beauty during daylight hours.At night, the wind howled through the trees and roared through the corridors like Daniel’s father’s gruff complaints. Gerald Dalton wielded his anger as a blacksmith did his hammer—always ready to strike and shape the world to his will.
Daniel breathed through the heaviness in his chest.
He looked at Clara seated opposite—close enough to the window to maintain the gap between her and Rutland’s solidthigh—and recalled her confession on the day their father died.
Please, Daniel! I would rather live anywhere than Thorncroft.
I pray I never set eyes on the place again.
As the vehicle climbed the sweeping gravel drive, he willed Clara to look at him. They had spoken briefly at The Nag’s Head Inn, where she had assured him she was strong enough to face her demons—if it meant helping Elsa.
Clara met his gaze and gave a weak smile. “Mrs McGregor will be furious with you. You should have sent word of our arrival. She will have nothing in the larder to cater to his lordship’s refined tastes.”
Rutland cleared his throat. “Don’t let my elegant demeanour fool you, Miss Dalton. I’m happy with cheese and a hunk of bread. If all else fails, I can catch a rabbit.”
“We can eat supper at a coaching inn if necessary,” Daniel said, though the thugs hired to search for the journal might be staying locally. “Mrs McGregor can send the staff into Chippenham for supplies tomorrow.”
“We’ve learnt to live modestly while staying in London.” Elsa glanced at the space between them, giving a satisfied sigh. She said nothing about dozing off during the journey, only to wake with her head on his shoulder and her fingers grazing his thigh. “We’re happy to make do.”
As the carriage rolled to a stop, Elsa clutched her hands tightly in her lap and peered at the grand oak door as if it were the gateway to hell.
Thorncroft was her home now. Yet she had not crossed the threshold or slept a night in the stately bed. She was the mistress of the house yet acted like a visitor. It came as nosurprise. Once they’d solved their problems, he doubted she would remain here. Geneva was a more appealing option.
When they alighted, Daniel drew Elsa aside. He had another confession to make—one that would only unsettle her further. “The staff believe we’ve been living together in London.” Elsa wasn’t the only person he had deceived. “They believe you defied your father’s wishes because you were in love with me.”
How ironic.
The opposite was true.
