Page 26 of One Wicked Secret
Clara jerked. “The blue room? Overlooking my reading arbour?”
“Overlooking the beautiful views of the grounds,” Rutland corrected. “Mrs McGregor knows I miss living in the country.”
While they discussed the advantages of a south-facing window, Daniel’s only concern was who had informed Mrs McGregor of their impending arrival.
“You were expecting us?”
“Aye,” Mrs McGregor said, frowning. “’Twas fortunate the marquess arrived early. We hadnae enough food to feed three strapping gentlemen. Thankfully, his lordship brought provisions. Mrs Bilson has been preparing a feast for the last three hours.”
Rothley loathed being kept in the dark. He hated lies and dishonest tales. So what in Lucifer’s name had he told Mrs McGregor?
“Where is Rothley?”
“In the dining room. Wilson is in bed with a fever and the marquess insisted on organising the footmen. He said ye’d be grateful for a hearty meal after such a tiring journey.”
Mrs McGregor tugged the bell pull and summoned a footman to take their outdoor apparel. They visited the downstairs cloakroom, using the fresh pitcher of water and towels to wash road dust off their hands and faces.
They entered the dining room to find Rothley inspectingthe cutlery and nodding in approval at the freshly polished silver. “It should gleam like stars in the night sky.”
The footman nodded, hanging on every word.
Rothley met Daniel’s gaze, the air of disappointment still evident in his dark wolf-like eyes. “I thought it best to arrive early. Heaven forbid there’s nothing on the menu but wood pigeon.”
“Your chef serves pigeon,” Daniel countered.
“Yes, with truffles and foie gras. I had Molière prepare a hamper of ingredients to assist your cook.”
Like a maître d’hôtel, Rothley reeled off a list of exquisite dishes Daniel’s cook was busy preparing. What he wanted to say was,why didn’t you tell me you were married?
Indeed, Rothley persuaded Rutland to pour the ladies an aperitif from an expensive bottle of Chambéry vermouth, then said, “Dalton, may I speak to you alone in the garden?”
“Of course.”
They walked in silence, striding through the main drawing room and out onto the terrace. The sharp chill in the air heightened the tension, but Daniel was the first to reveal his frustration.
“The servants think Elsa has been living with me in London. Tell me you’ve not ruined a clever plan by harassing my staff for information.”
Rothley kept his voice low. “I’m not an imbecile. The fact you felt you couldn’t trust me with the truth says this is a dangerous situation.”
“Before last night, no one knew the truth,” he whispered. “I trust you like a brother, but you would have insisted on finding a swift solution. One wrong step and my wife will face the gallows.”
“The gallows?” Rothley’s stern expression faltered. “Please tell me this is your idea of a sick joke?”
“I only wish it were.”
Rothley scrubbed a hand over his face before resting it firmly on Daniel’s shoulder. “You shouldn’t have borne this burden alone. After everything that happened with Justin, honesty between us is crucial.”
Justin—the Countess of Berridge’s brother and their close friend from Cambridge—had been found murdered in the woods ten years ago. Rothley refused to accept the body as their friend and had been searching for him ever since. The gossips only fuelled the scandal, whispering that Rothley himself had killed Justin and that his relentless search was merely a ploy to deflect suspicion.
“I’ve spent months searching for evidence,” Daniel said. There were times he had hardly slept, times he had laughed when he wanted to cry, times he’d been silent when he wanted to rage at the injustice. “Perhaps Elsa confronting me is a blessing. Things couldn’t continue as they were. I’ve been unfair to her.”
“Unfair but not unfaithful.”
“No. I’ve hurt her, but I could never hurt her that way.”
Rothley glanced at the open French doors as if looking for eavesdroppers. “Walk with me in the garden. Explain why you’ve been saddled with a wife and why you still feel the need to protect her. You know I will help you in any way I can.”
Daniel exhaled, his breath a white mist in the frigid air. He watched it vanish into the ether, wishing his troubles would evaporate as easily.
