Page 7 of An Earl’s Sacrifice (The Clandestine Sapphire Society #3)

L ucius spotted her carriage parked before the office mine and kicked his horse into motion.

He slid from the saddle and the crowd parted a pathway to his wife.

What the hell was she thinking? Before he reached her, a man a half foot shorter than his own height of six-two barred his way.

Despite the lack of height, he carried himself with an imposing demeanor.

Lean and wiry in build, his frame suggested he was more accustomed to administrative work rather than physical labor.

“Might I be of service, sir?” The man’s narrow face with its high, pronounced cheekbones and pointed chin went with the cold, steely-gray eyes. Their piercing quality aggravated Lucius.

“Why is my wife sitting on the ground with mud on her face?”

A harsh laugh erupted from his thin-lipped mouth.

“My good man, how amusing you are.” There was a spectral quality to his sallow skin that sharpened his features.

“That is Lady Perlsea, excuse me, Lady Pender as I’ve been corrected.

Her husband abandoned her over three years ago and hasn’t been seen since. ”

“Is that so?” Lucius said.

Another man with thick facial hair, and who appeared as tall as Lucius, breached the barrier of people and hurried to her. Pulled her to her feet and pressed her head into his well-developed shoulder. The muscles in Lucius’s abdomen coiled into a tight knot of ice-hot rage.

“And who might that be?” he gritted out.

The specter looked over his shoulder. “That would be the steward of Perlsea Keep.” A smirk, devoid of genuine emotion gave Lucius the impression he took pleasure in others’ discomfort.

The man eyed him with his beady hawklike gaze and shrugged.

“Or so they say.” After a second, he let out a resigned sigh.

“Duty calls.” He turned and made his way to the heart of the spectacle.

For a moment, Lucius was at a loss. He strolled back to his horse and mounted. The ride to Perlsea Keep took him through the village where nary a soul hovered.

He’d come to demand an annulment and his wife had just handed him the ammunition he required.

Hadn’t she?

*

“Come. You’ll catch your death.” Mr. Ashcroft guided Meredith from the wailing Mrs. Trenwith. “I think we may be in for a rough patch.”

“You saw him too?”

He gave a sharp nod.

“Be that as it may, I-I can’t leave. Not yet.” She broke away, but he held her arm, keeping her from the woman.

Mr. Trenwith picked up their young son amid his wife’s anguished cries. The pain in his face was indescribably heartbreaking. Their other two children, Sarah and Jacob, stood off to the side. Silent tears mingled with the rain coursing down young Sarah’s cheeks.

“Bring the carriage, Mr. Ashcroft. I refuse to allow the family to walk.”

His hesitation was minute, but then he said, “Of course, my lady.”

Meredith strode to Sarah and Jacob, her mind sluggish but for one thought: this was the second death within three years. Bray Cardy had perished before she’d been able to speak with Mrs. Thims about the document Mr. Thornfield had forced him to sign.

The mine conditions required better and more frequent supervision, she thought with a surge of fury.

Sick with the tragic events of this day, Meredith took Sarah’s hand silently promising to ease the family’s path using whatever power she possessed in her role as benefactor of Perlsea.

And, with her elusive husband’s return, she had every intention of following through on that very promise.