Page 61 of A Damsel for the Wounded Earl
“And you’re sure this is her room?”
Julius glanced uncertainly up and down the hallway. “Yes, I’m sure.”
“Good,” Lucy breathed.
What they were about to do was, naturally, extremely inappropriate. They were about to violate all laws of privacy and hospitality and do something that would be frowned upon by all of Society.
Well, Lucy was, at least.
Miranda Sinclair’s room was the Purple Room, which Lucy remembered as one of the nicest guest bedrooms. She knew the layout off by heart, including the neat little writing desk set in the corner, and a bureau for storing things.
“I need you to wait outside while I look through her room, Julius.”
Julius, Arthur’s valet, shifted nervously from foot to foot.
“I can’t, your ladyship. There’s no reason for me to be in the ladies’ wing of the house. If I’m caught here, there’ll be trouble.”
She sighed. “Fine, fine, that’s a fair point. Go on, then. See how Arthur is doing.”
“He was lying down last time I saw him, your ladyship. He didn’t look well.”
Julius’ face was pinched and angry. To enlist his help, Lucy had been obliged to tell him everything – that Miranda was plotting to elicit a proposal from Arthur, who did not want to marry her. Julius might have a reputation for indolence below stairs, but he was also well-liked and fiercely protective of his employer. He didn’t want to greet Miranda Sinclair as Lady Lanwood any more than anybody else did.
And so, Lucy felt entirely entitled to take matters into her own hands and snoop around the woman’s room.
“Well, if you see Miranda heading up to her room, try and waylay her, won’t you?”
Julius grimaced. “I’ll do my best, your ladyship. Good luck.”
She gave him a brief nod, then eased open the door to Miranda’s room, as quietly as she could and stepped inside.
What am I even looking to find?
Lucy threw herself into her task, carefully going through Miranda’s drawers and trunks. The key was not to stop and give herself a chance to think over what she was doing.
I can’t let her have him,Lucy thought, over and over again.He’s given up, I can see it. He’s tired of fighting. Fortunately, Arthur has me, and I haveneverhad enough of fighting.
She moved over to the writing desk. It was unlocked. Heart hammering, Lucy slid out a little pile of notepaper. On top was a neatly folded letter, addressed to the rest of the Sinclair family.
Drawing in a deep breath, Lucy unfolded it and began to read.
Dear Mama, Carrie, and Matilda,the letter began,I am here, and it is very nice. I am well looked after, although treated like an invalid, which is a little infuriating. However, the plan we discussed before I left is well in place.
Lucy read on, outrage and shock building up inside her. Her fists clenched on the letter, crumpling it up into a little ball. Then she remembered that it was evidence, and carefully smoothed it out again.
“What do you think you are doing?”
Flinching, Lucy spun around.
Miranda had crept up behind her on soft feet, and stood in the doorway, the very picture of fury and outrage. Her gaze dropped down to the letter, and her expression sharpened.
“Were you going through my things?” she demanded, her voice pitching higher. “Were you reading my personal letters? Oh, just wait till I tell Mrs. Langley about this! Arthur will…”
“You mean Lord Lanwood, the man you intended to trap into marriage?” Lucy shot back. She waved the letter. “I have it all here. You shouldn’t have laid out your plan quite so clearly.”
Anger flared in Miranda’s face, and she made a grab for the letter. Lucy dodged away, holding it out of reach.
“Give that letter to me!” Miranda hissed. “You had no right to read it.”
