Page 17

W hy did I not do this in the daytime?

Seth cursed for the third time as he ascended through the murky darkness.

It should have been familiar. He and his friends had ventured up here several times in his youth, Gordon always hanging back in fear of the spirits lurking in the darkness.

Seth had never shared his fear, enjoying the adventure.

But he was no longer a young boy, wide-eyed and excited about the possibility of ghosts and ghouls. Now, he knew there were things up there that could frighten him far more than any specter.

What if I am right, and one of my friends hurt Gordon?

The idea was alien, repugnant, and made his whole body shudder with a new type of horror.

Throughout the long trial, the accusations, the provost’s fury, the disappointment and derision of his family and relations, the one thing that had always held strong was their friendship.

Yes, Seth had let things slide recently, but their group had stuck together through it all. They had supported each other through thick and thin, and that would always be true.

He was determined to pull his head out of the shadows and finally discover what had happened. He hoped all his worries would be unfounded.

I am sure I am overthinking this. Gordon was likely deep in his cups and slipped and fell, just as they said.

His candle flickered, but he refused to believe it was his hand that was shaking.

The long staircase up to the attic was rarely used, and as he glanced behind him, he saw his footprints in the dust.

Tugging sharply at his waistcoat, he turned back, placing a hand on the aged door and pushing it open, letting it swing back.

“Release whatever ghosts you hold,” he whispered into the night, staring into the impossible blackness beyond and wishing he could be in his bed.

He could have waited and come up here tomorrow, but he had been unable to sleep.

Since Alicia’s arrival, it was as if every emotion had surged within him. Pandora’s box was open, and there was no way of shutting it now.

Seth had never been a patient man. He was always desperate to get to the bottom of any mystery, to root out a lie as quickly as he could.

It was why Alicia was so alluring to him. He did not understand her, so he wanted to delve inside her, reach into the secrets of her soul and keep them for himself.

He blinked, shaking off the strange compulsion, and stared into the darkness ahead.

Nothing moved. All was quiet.

He stepped forward, swallowing back the irrational fear that bubbled up inside him as the weak light from his candle tried to penetrate the cavernous ceiling.

I have not been up here since my father’s funeral.

He moved stealthily through the bric-a-brac, keeping his eye on the floor for rats.

At the back of the room was an old dressing table of his mother’s, the mirror speckled with age and tarnished so badly that he could barely see his reflection in it. Nevertheless, seeing the candlelight moving toward it in the gloom was comforting.

Beside the desk was another door that led to a smaller room, and in front of it was the trunk he had been looking for.

He sighed in relief, glad that his mind had not been playing tricks on him. He had kept his correspondence.

During the night, he had had visions of throwing it all out after Gordon’s death, too plagued by grief to think that he might wish to read those treasured letters again.

Wishing to be out of the attic as soon as possible, he walked swiftly to the chest, praying it had been left unlocked, and gave a small cry of triumph as his fingers pushed at the lid and it gave.

Inside were bundles of paper, stacked on top of one another and tied with dusty ribbons.

He placed the candle on the desk beside him and got to work.

Alicia could not sleep.

The kitten was curled up happily at the bottom of her bed, and with the curtains drawn and the fire dying to embers, the room was dark and pleasantly warm.

She should have been slumbering peacefully, but something kept her awake. An incessant but irregular sound came from somewhere, almost as though someone was walking above her head.

It was difficult to imagine that any rooms were still used in the attic, but having lain there for several minutes, listening intently, it certainly sounded like a noise a person might make.

I suppose I should summon a servant, in case it’s a thief.

Alicia’s fingers curled into the sheets above her as she pushed them back, rising from the bed and grabbing her robe.

Her sister had gifted her some slippers as a wedding present, pale yellow with dark brown bows on the top. She slipped them on, cocooning her toes in fine silk, and cracked a small smile. It was almost as if Jane were with her.

The house was pitch black when she opened the door, and she could barely see a foot in front of her.

She went back into her room, collecting a candlestick from her bedside table and lighting it with the embers. Then, she decided that it would be a more pleasant journey if she were not entirely alone.

Going over to the bed, she picked up the kitten, who gave a mournful meow as she woke up. Alicia clutched her to her chest as she headed out into the night.

Once she was outside her room again, she looked up. She could hear a gentle thudding above her, that same irregularity that did not sound quiet enough to be a thief or light enough to be a rodent.

If there are rats where I am going, I will scream.

Clutching the candle more tightly in her hand, she walked toward the small window at the end of the corridor, where she recalled seeing another doorway.

She had assumed it was a servants’ entrance at the time, but as she came upon it, it looked more like an entryway to another part of the house.

Opening the door, a yawning blackness greeted her, but she had always liked the dark.

She struck out along the little passage, listening to the sound as it drew closer.

Could I use this, I wonder? Will the Duke think I have lost my senses, wandering around the house at night? I should have worn something odd, in case I come upon him.

The floorboards were surprisingly quiet underfoot, and she passed only one other door until she came to the end of the passageway.

The kitten was very still in her arms, looking around curiously but not trying to escape.

Finally, she came upon a narrow staircase that rose to what must have been the attic. Considering the many wings in the house, Alicia could imagine there were several such rooms.

It was clear this one was not used regularly. There were fresh footprints in the dust, and she felt a thrill of excitement.

“Perhaps we will stumble upon a ghost,” she whispered to the kitten.

She made for the staircase but struggled to keep holding up her nightshirt to prevent herself from tripping.

She had a choice to put down the candle or the kitten, and she decided that she would prefer the companionship.

Placing the candlestick at the bottom of the steps, she made her way up.

There was light coming from beneath the door at the top, and Alicia was now certain it must be a servant. No self-respecting thief would light a candle to see by when he was robbing a house.

The door was ajar, and she pushed it open, her eyebrows rising at the sight before her.

The room was covered with storage boxes stacked haphazardly, with trunks, cases, and old bags piled high on each side.

There was a path through them, however, and on the other side of the room, there was a flickering flame and a man bent over what looked like a trunk.

Alicia did not know what it said about her that she immediately recognized the Duke by the breadth of his shoulders.

A tendril of excitement unfurled within her as she watched him place the papers behind him meticulously but angrily, as though he were looking for something.

And why should I care? It is nothing to me. I am nothing to him.

Despite that thought, something pulled her forward. She had expected him to hear her approach, but in case he had not, she opened her mouth to call out to him.

But the Duke seemed to sense her presence before she could alert him.

He spun around with a cry of shock, his hand grabbing the candle beside him and holding it out like a weapon. In his haste, the candle teetered in its holder and toppled into the trunk.

“Blast it all!” the Duke shouted, lunging forward and snatching the candle out of the box. But the damage was already done.

Fire flared inside the trunk, and Alicia cried out, rushing forward.

She placed the kitten on a box and pulled a heavy set of covers from the top of another.

Dust cascaded everywhere, and she coughed, holding the covers out to the Duke, who snatched them up and threw them into the box. He then stomped out the small flame that had sparked in the corner.

After only a few seconds, the fire was extinguished. But the candle still burned beside him, illuminating the sweat on his face and the fury in his eyes as he looked up at Alicia.

He was in his waistcoat and shirt sleeves, his long hair twisting neatly to his shoulders, the curls oddly endearing in the halo of light behind him.

But his expression was one of pure rage.

“What the hell are you doing?” he barked, making her flinch. “Wandering the house at night and giving me no warning. Why did you come up here?”

Alicia’s indignance flared. “Why did you ?”

“This is my goddamn house; I can do as I please.”

She ground her teeth, putting her hands on her hips as she glared at him. “It is my house too.”

“What are you doing here?”

“I came to find out what the noise was. I heard you up here and thought it might be a thief.”

“So you decided to come and tackle him alone ? Have some sense, woman.”

She opened her mouth to give him a sharp retort, but he threw his hands up, looking down at the trunk. There were now black streaks just visible in the flickering light of the solitary candle.

“Do you have any idea what you could have done?” the Duke muttered furiously. “My whole work, my whole search, up in flames. You could have burned us all in our beds!”

“I am not the one who dropped the candle,” she snapped.

Seth’s anger was rising by the second, his thundering heartbeat a roar in his ears from the utter terror that had overtaken him at her appearance.

For a fraction of a second, he had thought it was the ghost of his father coming to haunt him, and he could feel the cold sweat at the base of his spine.

He felt doubly foolish for almost burning the attic to the ground, and he hated that he was taking his anger out on Alicia.

Inhaling deeply, he tried to calm himself and give her the apology she deserved.

I woke her up and then blamed her for coming up here to ensure we were all safe. It was hardly her fault.

But then, as he was about to apologize, a high-pitched and irritating mewl sounded from beside her.

Rolling his eyes, Seth picked up the candle and moved it closer as Alicia turned and bent over a box. He could just see a flash of white where the kitten had managed to get herself stuck again.

He stepped forward, towering over her, the candlelight flickering in her wide eyes as they both panted in the dusty space. He was inches away from her, her scent surrounding him in an intoxicating cloud.

“Take that damned animal away,” he heard himself say. “I do not recall giving you permission to bring pets into my house!”

Could I sound any more like my blasted father?

The candle he held was shaking again, but for another reason entirely. Now, he was just afraid of his bride’s reaction to his rudeness.

He expected hysterics, or even tears, but what happened instead was far worse.

Alicia’s eyes darkened, a coldness coming into them that he had not seen since their wedding day.

Her lips thinned, her fingers claw-like and feral at her sides, as though she wished to launch herself at him for the way he had spoken to her.

Without a sound, she bent over the box, scooped up the kitten, and cradled it in her arms before giving him a vicious look and marching out of the room.

Seth watched her go helplessly, the intense desire to follow her, to make amends, surging through him, a voice in his head screaming at him to run after her, pull her against him, and force her to forgive him right there and then.

He stayed where he was, running a hand through his hair and looking down at the ruined trunk.

In truth, the flames had barely done any damage to the papers, and his outburst now seemed even more unwarranted.

At least I have found what I was looking for.

Gordon’s familiar hand was etched across a small bundle of letters inside, tied with a black ribbon.

Finally, Seth would have some answers to the questions racing in his mind. But now, he felt guilt of a different kind.

Alicia would not easily forgive him.

Closing his eyes, he blew out a breath of frustration and swore colorfully as it extinguished the flame, plunging him into a darkness of his own making.