Page 27 of One Wicked Secret
“I desire my wife,” he confessed as they descended the stonesteps. It’s what had made their estrangement so hard to bear. “I’ve wanted her since I watched her ride my Arabian five years ago when she was nineteen. Although I knew she was duty-bound to marry Lord Denby, we maintained a secret friendship.”
“Denby?” Rothley spat. “The man is a weasel.”
Daniel told Rothley everything as they walked in the verdure.
“You buried Carver’s body?” he exclaimed, aghast. “Without summoning a justice of the peace? Had you lost your mind? What in God’s name did?—”
“I couldn’t risk Elsa getting the blame.” Daniel stopped and faced Rothley. “She didn’t kill Carver. She doesn’t have a wicked bone in her body. You should have seen her face when I told her the truth.”
Rothley cursed under his breath. “The jury will hear the evidence and find her guilty. It doesn’t help that she lists axe throwing amongst her accomplishments. We need to find that damn journal, then we’ll have a list of suspects.”
Rothley made it sound simple.
“I plan to visit Edenberry with Elsa tomorrow night under cover of darkness. I’ll have Rutland watch Clara, but I need you to act as a lookout and scout the area.”
Beneath his aristocratic aplomb, Rothley hid a fierce need to protect those he cared about. Like the leader of a wolf pack, he could play the predator when called upon. Everyone knew he had a lethal bite.
“If Denby hired a thug to watch the house, I’ll find the devil.”
“What makes you think it’s Denby?”
Daniel had followed the lord for weeks. The man was a pompous bore. He didn’t drink or gamble or frequent brothels.He took his mother to church on Sundays and held her Pomeranian on his lap in a private pew.
Rothley scoffed. “I’ve never believed his holier-than-thou persona. Perhaps he knew Carver had asked Elsa to elope. A rat like Denby would have bribed the staff for information. An accomplice could have followed her into the woods and staged the scene.”
Magnus had suspected a traitor amongst the servants but found no proof. It was another reason he shut the house and paid them a year’s wages. They had all left a contact address. It wouldn’t be difficult to trace them. Many lived locally.
“Denby has no conscience and uses others to do his dirty work.” It was said he’d betrayed his own cousin. The reformers were seized in the Spitalfields tavern before they could speak. “But we need proof. We need to find that damned diary.”
Without the journal they would never find peace. They would spend their lives on tenterhooks waiting for an attack.
A thought turned his blood cold. What if the villain was waiting for them to make the first move? What if they weren’t outwitting him but falling into his devious trap?
Elsa stood alone on the terrace, hands braced against the cool stone balustrade, staring out over the garden as the manicured lawns vanished into the night.
It was a scene set for romance—the moon cast a silver glow; stars shimmered in an inky sky. The air was sweet with wildflowers and cut grass. All she needed was the warmth of her husband’s hands to chase away the chill, and life would be perfect.
Except life would never be perfect again.
How could she live at Thorncroft when the woods watched her like a silent stalker? When her happy place was blighted by the pain of forgotten memories?
How could she pretend to love her husband when every time he touched her, she saw herself naked in another man’s bed?
WhathadMr Carver done to her?
Sadly, she would never know. The thought would haunt her dreams and taint her waking hours. The urge to scrub herself until her skin?—
“There you are.” Daniel’s velvet voice was like a tender caress against her cold skin. “Our guests are in the drawing room. Clara thought you’d enjoy a glass of sherry by the fire.”
She didn’t need to look at her husband to know he moved closer. The space between them came alive, pulsing with the ache of desire he had mentioned hours earlier.
“It’s been a long day. I might retire soon.” Her nerves were as fragile as a spider’s web: delicate threads ready to snap. “It’s peaceful out here. And I’m finding it hard to breathe.”
“We’ve all overeaten.” His soft chuckle stirred the hairs at her nape. “Rothley brought chocolate truffles to have with our digestifs. The man thinks of everything.”
She wrapped her arms around her abdomen, hugging herself. “Perhaps you should return to the drawing room before Clara claims yours.”
His brief pause did nothing to settle her racing pulse.
