Page 69 of One Wicked Secret
“Thieves are easily fooled. Paste looks so authentic these days,” the countess said in a cautious tone. “Look what happened to poor Miss Woolf.”
Plagued by a sudden curiosity, Rothley looked up. “Whathas happened to Miss Woolf?” He looked past the countess. “Ah, the wanderers return. I was about to send out a search party.”
They acknowledged their guests.
“We visited Mrs Melville, the housekeeper at Edenberry.” He waited for Elsa to sit on the sofa, then occupied the empty space beside her. “She’s agreed to return to Chippenham tomorrow.”
The countess fixed her bright blue gaze on them. “I hope you don’t mind us calling. I was shocked to hear of your nuptials, and then, with the rather unconventional way you left the ball, I wanted to be certain all was well.”
“You promised to reassure my wife,” the earl added bluntly.
“We’ve been busy,” Daniel replied drily.
Elsa clasped her hands in her lap and addressed the countess. “Can you ever forgive me for lying to you, Joanna? You’ve been so kind to me and Clara. You’ve made the last month here bearable. I honestly don’t know how we’d have coped without you.”
The countess smiled, her eyes glowing with the same warmth Daniel had once seen in her brother Justin. He wondered if Rothley had noticed the likeness. Was that another reason he clung so tightly to the ghosts of the past?
“Those who enter The Burnished Jade come because fate has drawn them there.” The countess glanced at her husband with evident admiration. “I hope you still consider yourself members. Some ladies desperately need a friend. I know Miss Woolf would appreciate your company.”
“What happened to Miss Woolf?” Rothley repeated. “Did she fall into an open pit while scouring the graveyard at night?”
Like Rothley, Miss Woolf had a fascination for the macabre.
“No,” the countess said sharply. “She was attacked at home, and her jewellery box was stolen. Fortunately, any valuable pieces from her modest inheritance are hidden elsewhere.”
Rothley shot to his feet, though he seemed more shocked by his own reaction than anything else. “Have they caught the devil?” He reached for the bottle of claret as if that were his true purpose for standing.
“Sadly, no. But I hate the thought of her returning to that dreadful lodging house at night. I’ve offered her a room at The Jade, but she politely declined.”
Rothley filled his wine glass. “Pride is an admirable quality in a woman. Particularly when she’s down on her luck.”
“Perhaps Mr Daventry can help,” Elsa said. “He’s remarkably intuitive and offered us no end of useful suggestions.”
The earl’s ears pricked. “Daventry paid you a visit? Does it relate to why you lied about being married?”
Although Daniel trusted the Earl of Berridge, and Rothley considered him a good friend, the fewer people who knew about their troubles, the better. “It’s a complicated situation.”
“Perhaps I can help,” the earl said, his reputation enough to strike fear into the bravest men. “Half the lords in London are in my debt. I hear your wife broke the contract with Denby and married you instead. More than a few men would like to see Denby ruined.”
A tense silence settled over the room.
Rothley was the first to speak. “Based on the complexity of this case, you need good men as allies, Dalton.”
“I understand your father made a series of bad investments, Mrs Dalton.” The earl studied Elsa over steepled fingers. “They were the talk of thetonfor a time.”
“I suppose I should feel ashamed, but I don’t.” Elsa smiled as her gaze turned reflective. “Despite his many faults, my father was a kind, affectionate man. What is money without love, my lord?”
Rothley bowed his head. The marquess had loved a woman who vanished after being bribed to leave by his father. Bitterness for both parties still coursed through his veins, a poison that had stained his soul.
“Yet your father signed a contract with Lord Denby, forcing you to marry for money, not love,” the earl said without apology. “Does that not seem like a glaring contradiction?”
“Of course. But desperate men do desperate things.”
Daniel did not intervene. Elsa could speak for herself, and these questions proved insightful.
“He made a mistake,” Elsa quickly added, “and Lord Denby took advantage. Have you not made mistakes, my lord?”
“Yes, many. Never the same mistake three times. Does that not strike you as odd, Mrs Dalton?”
