Page 57 of Her Heart's Rightful Earl
“I received word that you have a message for me, regarding my poor deceased husband?”
Joseph’s eyes looked around behind Arabella, to where Alexander stood, with his head bent low, for he, too, remembered Joseph, which meant Joseph may also be able to identify him.
“Who is this …?” Joseph pointed a shaking finger towards Alexander.
“My servant,” Arabella replied promptly and positioned herself to obstruct his view.
“What I must reveal is highly sensitive, Lady Spencer …”
“My servant is loyal, and I am happy for him to hear whatever you have to say, Joseph. Please proceed.”
There followed a racking cough that appeared to leach all Joseph’s energy for a moment. He closed his eyes to compose himself and launched, with considerable effort, into his explanation.
“Mr Spencer was carrying out an investigation in the weeks before he died. He was determined to clear the name of hiscousin, Alexander Hartwell, over the murder of the late Earl of Wellwood. I fear he may have got too close to the truth …”
“The truth?” Arabella prompted.
“My master suspected danger in his final weeks, and the night before he died, he confided an overwhelming sense of his own peril.”
Arabella dropped her head in grief. “How could I have not seen it? Poor Edmund was in turmoil, and I was oblivious!”
“No … Lady Spencer.” Joseph reached tentatively out to her and drew back, understanding it may not be appropriate. Arabella took his hand in hers, empathizing over their shared tragedy. “You were devoted to Mr Spencer and grieved him faithfully,” he assured her.
Arabella raised her eyes sadly to Joseph’s and nodded her thanks. “Please—do continue …”
“Mr Spencer entrusted me with a leather journal wrapped in oiled cloth and made me swear a solemn oath to hide it until the truth could safely emerge without costing more lives.”
“A journal?” Arabella’s hand flew to her chest. She knew that Captain Morrison had uncovered a logbook, which revealed facts and ruminations about Edmund’s investigatory works, butshe considered a journal might expose more personal details regarding the people involved and surrounding Edmund’s personal conclusions.
And surely, she countered, Edmund’s suspicions must have been true, or he would not have ended up dead.
“Yes. And it is time for me to pass it on.”
Joseph reached inside his yellowed shirt, which was rank with perspiration and clinging to his distressed body, and pulled out a key.
“I apologize for the burden that accompanies it …” Joseph told her as he pressed the key into Arabella’s hand.
“In Mr Spencer’s study on the Wellwood estate, beneath the casement window is a loose floorboard. Dislodge the board, and you will find a steel box, which can be unlocked using this key. Inside the box, you will find your deceased husband’s journal.”
Arabella scarcely knew what to say, but hurriedly thanked Joseph for his pains, bid him a fond farewell, and rushed from the infirmary with Alexander quietly behind her, hurrying to emerge and hide again before the dawn light.
***
Arabella and Alexander had become so accustomed to stealthily sneaking about in the shadows of darkness that entering the Wellwood residence while the household still slept was, fortunately, uneventful.
Edmund’s study had been abandoned since his death, out of respect and grief. As Arabella quietly turned the ever-present key in the lock to enter, she realized that it was likely one of the household staffhadentered recently to procure the logbook covertly passed on to Captain Morrison to aid him in his investigation.
But as she stepped across the threshold, with Alexander close behind her, it was clear to see the room had scarcely been touched since Edmund’s passing. Dust lay upon undisturbed books on his desk, and the space smelled musty.
Arabella paused just inside the doorway as the rush of a memory hit her. Seeing Edmund sitting at his desk, industriously focused on paperwork in front of him.
She had entered to ask if he would like to take a walk into town, but he had seemed distracted and nervous, so she had pretended instead that she had another rather inconsequential question for him.
She never liked him to feel obliged; her presence alone was something she felt indebted to him for, and she did not want himto feel as though heshouldparticipate in a walk if he had more important business to attend to.
Her thought process seemed so petty as she recalled it now. Especially when she realized that the paperwork he so rigorously reviewed was probably related to the murder of his uncle.
“Arabella?” Alexander whispered, prompting her into the room so that he could hastily follow and lock the door behind them. They did so and quickly found the loose floorboard to which Joseph had alluded.
