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Chapter Three

Daniel felt the fight drain from Elsa’s body. Beneath him, she lay on the grass, her strength seeping away as confusion darkened her gaze.

“I don’t understand.” She didn’t wriggle in the arousing way that made his cock hard and wish they’d consummated their union. She was as still as a cadaver on a mortuary slab. “How could I have killed Mr Carver? I didn’t even know he was dead.”

He should have kept his foolish mouth shut but hated hiding the truth from her. The answers she craved could send her to the gallows. He would be charged as an accessory, the penalty prison or transportation. Guilt would be a constant companion, a reminder he’d failed to save his wife.

“Elsa, it’s cold, and the park is unsafe at night. Let me take you home. I’ll explain everything. I give you my word.”

Defiance flashed in her eyes. “Home to Henley? No. No matter what you reveal, I’ll not return to how things were.”

“When you hear what I have to say, Henley might sound more appealing.” He would need to hire a new guard to replace Finnegan. That would take time. “I guarantee you’ll feel safer there.”

“I’m not hiding anymore.” The pain of betrayal lived in every tense word. “Why would you think I’m capable of committing such an atrocity? It proves the trust we once shared has gone.”

Nothing between them would ever be the same.

Their relationship was broken beyond repair.

A villain had seen to that.

A devil had robbed him of the only woman he wanted.

“Because I found you asleep in Carver’s bed.” He rolled off her, standing abruptly, the memory of that night like a blade to his heart. The obscene image plagued his waking hours and haunted his dreams.

She turned so pale he thought she’d stopped breathing. “That’s not true. Why would you invent these wicked lies?”

“Carver made sure you wouldn’t remember.” He stiffened at the distant rumble of men’s voices, praying it wasn’t footpads. “Doubtless you have many questions, but I’ll say no more here.”

She batted his hand away when he tried to help her stand. Disbelief stole her voice, and they walked briskly back to the Cumberland Gate in silence.

They found Jarvis perched on his box, dismissing a woman desperate to earn a few shillings.“Move on. Find yourself another mark.”

Daniel intervened, filling the woman’s grimy palm with coins. “There’s enough for a decent meal and a room for the night.”

The woman clutched her bounty to her chest like the shadows had thieving fingers. “God bless you, sir. That’s mighty generous.”

Elsa wrapped the blanket from the coach seat around the woman’s scrawny shoulders, covering her threadbare shawl. “This will keep the cold out. If you find yourself in Aldgate, they serve soup daily from the kitchens of The Burnished Jade.”

The woman blessed them again before disappearing into the murky park, although they’d need more than divine intervention to survive the coming days.

“Would you care to give Jarvis your proper address?” Daniel said, somewhat impressed she’d been clever enough to deceive him.

She gave Jarvis an apologetic smile. “Crown Street, Shoreditch, close to Finsbury Square. I’ll tap on the roof when I need you to stop.”

Jarvis doffed his hat and gathered up the reins.

During the three-mile journey, they sat opposite each other on the leather seats, avoiding eye contact, the tension palpable in the confined space.

Elsa kept her nose pressed to the window. Silent tears slid down her cheeks, the sight tearing him in two again.

Twenty minutes passed before she knocked twice on the carriage roof and called, “It’s here, on the right. The house with the blue door.”

They stopped outside a row of terraced houses squashed together like soldiers in tight formation. Dim lights flickered in a few shop windows opposite. The chandler was still open for those desperate for lamp oil or candles or wishing to warm their hands on his lit brazier.

“I give you a generous allowance,” he said as Elsa tried to brush mud off her dress and straighten her hair. “You could afford to reside in Mayfair.” Nevertheless, he was thankful she’d chosen an area far from prying eyes. “Why live here? ”

“I wanted to follow you and build a picture of your life before you discovered I was in town.” She looked directly at him, despair a gathering storm in her gaze. “You live like a bachelor. No wonder your friends were so shocked to learn you’re married.”

“I don’t live this way by choice.” If not for that one tragic event, he would spend every night in bed with her.

“No, I forced you to behave like a scoundrel,” she mocked. “You think I bedded Mr Carver and then murdered him in cold blood. What beggars belief is why you agreed to marry me.”

“We’ll talk inside. In bringing Clara here, you’ve placed her life in jeopardy. It’s only right she hears the truth, so she might take every precaution.”

Elsa gulped. “I would never hurt Clara. I didn’t know?—”

“None of this is your fault,” he pressed.

“Yet you think I killed a man.”

Daniel didn’t reply. The sooner he confessed, the sooner he could move his family to a safe location. Ever vigilant, Jarvis knew to watch for Lord Denby’s men, though, with any luck, the peer remained unaware of his marriage to Elsa.

Still, Daniel scanned the dim street the moment he alighted.

A couple lingered in the shadows. One man loitered in a shop doorway, his collars raised to keep out the cold. Two dogs played chase in the road, darting in front of a carriage en route from Finsbury Square.

“Stay alert,” he instructed Jarvis.

“Aye, sir.”

Clara peered through the window before opening the door and greeting him with a beaming smile. “Daniel!”

He stepped inside, and she threw her arms around him. He held her tightly, breathing her in like a balm to a broken spirit.

Her happiness faltered when she welcomed them into the hall and saw the mud on Elsa’s dress. “What happened to your gown?”

Elsa removed her grass-stained gloves. “I ran through Hyde Park, but Daniel caught me, and I fell.”

“Oh.” Clara shifted nervously, unsure how to respond. “Never mind. The countess knows a laundress who will restore the gown to its former glory.”

“I doubt the countess will welcome us back at The Jade now she knows I lied about being unmarried.”

Clara cast Daniel a sidelong glance and gently touched his arm. “She will understand why you kept your marriage a secret. Besides, yours isn’t a marriage in the true sense; you’re practically estranged.”

“Elsa is my wife,” Daniel replied sternly, “as the parish record at St Andrew’s clearly states. I’ll hear no talk of an annulment or a legal separation.”

“Magnus is in Geneva,” Elsa informed Clara, leading them into a quaint drawing room where the furnishings were old and threadbare. “Once Daniel has explained the reason behind his shocking claims, I plan to leave for Switzerland, too. You’re welcome to join me.”

“What shocking claims?” Clara stepped into the candlelight. While one eye gleamed bright blue, the other was clouded, veiled in a milky haze. The scar slicing through her brow had softened with time, a silent reminder of the whip’s cruel bite.

Daniel inwardly winced. No matter how often Clara insisted he was blameless, guilt ate away at his soul. “No one is going to Geneva. Clara, do you have sherry or something stronger to drink?”

“We have port. It was a gift from the countess.”

“Excellent.”

Clara raised a stilling hand when he offered to pour the drinks. “Sit and warm yourself by the fire.” She opened the cupboard of an oak dresser, removed three small claret glasses and poured a generous amount of port into each.

Elsa was right. Clara didn’t slouch or walk as if the floor were made of quicksand. Her ebony hair wasn’t draped over one eye but neatly scooped back in a bun.

He looked at Elsa as she prodded the coals, a wave of gratitude filling his chest. She was good for Clara. Genuine kindness healed wounds. It restored hope and soothed a battered spirit.

Elsa felt nothing for him now.

Still, his heart swelled for the love she had shown Clara.

He waited for the ladies to sit on the sofa. As they gripped their delicate glasses, he downed the fortified wine in one long gulp and placed the empty glass on the mantel.

“Before I begin,” he said, settling into the wingback chair, “please know that everything I’ve done was necessary and often contrary to my personal wishes.”

They nodded, though they couldn’t possibly understand.

Clara gave him an encouraging smile. “You would never hurt either of us intentionally. I’m sure it’s all a terrible misunderstanding.”

“You’re right on the first point,” he replied, pausing as a wave of fear coursed through him. Once he confessed, there would be no turning back. “But there is no misunderstanding. I deliberately lied to Elsa. I concealed the facts and left her at The Grange, with no immediate plans to return. ”

Clara gasped.

Elsa’s eyes held the same cold glimmer he had noticed earlier. “Daniel thinks I gave Mr Carver my virtue. By all accounts, my brother’s man of business is dead, and I might have killed him.”

Clara’s chin dropped in disbelief. “That can’t be true.”

“Of course it’s not true. If Daniel had spoken to me initially, he might have saved us all six months of misery.”

He stood, snatched his glass and refilled it before returning to his seat. It took him a moment to gather the courage to speak. “I was at home at Thorncroft when I received Magnus’ note saying Elsa was missing.”

Elsa sat forward. “Missing? I have never left Edenberry.”

“Please,” he begged, briefly closing his eyes. “Allow me to relay the facts before you ask questions or we’ll be here until dawn.”

She sat back, her hand tightening around the glass. “Please continue.”

“It was the day you went walking in the woods on your brother’s estate, collecting pine cones and holly to make festive decorations.”

Elsa recalled the memory. “Yes, I tripped on a protruding root and hit my head. I woke up in bed the next day, nursing a terrible megrim and a lump the size of a duck’s egg.”

He had stayed by her bedside all night, unsure what she would remember when she woke. “You fell in the woods, but we didn’t find you there. We found you at Carver’s cottage, a short distance away. You were asleep, but we soon realised Carver had drugged you.”

Her mouth parted as the life drained from her cheeks. After gulping several times, she muttered, “Drugged?”

Clara stared, her brows raised in silent question .

“I suspect you were unconscious when Carver found you. He took you home, undressed you and put you to bed.” A wave of anger forced him to pause. Carver deserved to die for what he’d done. “We think he gave you laudanum. Maybe as an excuse to ease your pain. There was a bottle on the nightstand. Do you remember seeing him? Do you recall waking in his bed and him administering the tincture?”

She remained still, as if Carver’s betrayal had turned her to stone. When she spoke, her despair was palpable. “Had I remembered anything, you would have been the first person I told. How could you keep this from me? I’m not a child, Daniel.”

“Are you sure you want to hear this in front of Clara?”

“Clara is the sister I never had. I keep no secrets from her.”

Daniel nodded and braced himself. It was hard to form the words without seeing the harrowing image. “Carver was beside you in bed. You were both naked. You were sleeping, sedated, not unconscious. Your pupils confirmed as much, and your breathing remained steady.”

Elsa froze. Tears welled.

The next few seconds stretched endlessly.

“And that’s why you married me?” The pain in her voice was raw. A wound laid bare and bleeding. “To save me from ruin?”

Lie, you fool!

But he couldn’t lie to her anymore.

“In part, yes.”

She sagged like she had been punched in the stomach. “I thought … I thought … forget what I thought. ‘Naive Nelly’ should be my new moniker.”

He sat forward. “Elsa, you were destined to marry Lord Denby, as per the contract. It never occurred to me that we might marry.”

A snide snort escaped her. “Do you think I wanted to marry Lord Denby? I had no choice. His father loaned my father money years ago, and that’s how the agreement came about. My hand was worth more than a measly two shillings.”

Daniel looked at Clara. “You told Elsa I won her hand in a wager. Why do you think that? You’ve lived at The Grange for two years.” Ever since their father died, weeks after accidentally striking her with a riding crop in a fit of temper.

Clara shifted nervously. She kept her own secrets. “I—I received an anonymous note.”

Daniel almost dropped his glass as he sprang to his feet. “Curse the saints! You should have informed me. What exactly did it say?”

“That you won your bride for two shillings in a wager.” Clara firmed her tone. “I was angry with you for leaving Elsa at The Grange. She was so confused that I showed her the letter.”

“Do you still have it?”

“I screwed it up and threw it in the fire,” Elsa confessed, “while cursing you to Hades.”

He began pacing, his mind darting from one possibility to another. Could Magnus have sent the note? No, he knew the truth. Did Lord Denby know that Daniel owned The Grange in Henley? Possibly.

“Have you received any other letters?” he said, panicked. “Has anything unusual happened either before or after you came to London? Think. It’s important.”

Clara’s hand fluttered to her throat. “I received a letter stating you keep a mistress in town. That went in the fire, too. ”

Why send the note to Clara, not Elsa?

Was the villain testing Clara’s loyalty to drive a wedge between the women? Feeling betrayed and alone, was Elsa supposed to leave The Grange? Or did the villain not know Elsa lived there?

He turned to Elsa. “I don’t have a mistress.”

“Someone thinks you do.”

“I didn’t win you in a wager for two shillings.”

“The suggestion sounds too precise to be a lie.”

“Two shillings represent the bond of friendship. An alliance I made with Magnus when we were younger men.” When they despised the world and needed someone to trust. “The shillings are tokens: one for honour, the other for loyalty. When I gave Magnus two shillings, I gave him my life. I swore to protect you until I drew my last breath.”

Their eyes locked.

He saw the wall she had built shake but not crumble.

She did not trust his word completely. Perhaps she never would.

“You should have told me months ago.”

“The vow to protect you had to come before my personal desires.” She had no idea how hard it had been to leave her. “Be assured, none of this was my choice or design.”

Elsa nodded. “I wish I had known that.”

“Do you think I enjoy playing the scoundrel?”

“I haven’t known what to think.”

He tossed back his port, placing the glass on the mantel. The wine’s potency failed to soothe the pain of regret.

“You asked about unusual incidents,” Clara said while Elsa stared at the crimson liquid in her glass. “Finnegan caught a vagrant trying to enter the property. The man had a dirty face and wore ragged clothes, but Finnegan was sure he caught a whiff of expensive cologne.”

He firmed his jaw. “And Finnegan didn’t think to alert me?”

“We convinced him he was mistaken.”

“Things have gone missing from The Grange,” Elsa added. “The few books I brought from home disappeared. At first, I wondered if Mrs Tate had taken them, but?—”

“Books? I implied we were going on a honeymoon. What need would you have for books?” In an alternative version of reality, they would have hardly left their bed.

“Every need, it seems.”

He deserved that. “What books did you bring?”

She shrugged. “Gothic tales from my mother’s collection.”

“Were there any notes inscribed inside them? A personal message or dedication? Any words or passages underlined?”

“No, only the bookplate my mother pasted in all her volumes.”

Bookplate? Did that hold a vital clue?

“Do you recall the design?”

“An open tome with a quill.” Suspicion flashed in her eyes. “Why all the questions about a few old books? You’ve been lying to me for months. You tell me I was found naked in Mr Carver’s bed, yet still haven’t said why you think I killed him. Now all you care about is my mother’s ex-libris.”

She was right.

It must all sound rather confusing.

“I suggest you take a sip of port before I tell you.” As he watched her drink, he wondered if the books taken from The Grange contained the information the villain needed or if the blackguard was still hunting for Magnus .

Elsa straightened her spine and sought to confirm an important fact. “Wait. You found me naked? You saw me without my clothes and carried me home?”

“Yes.” His pulse quickened. He didn’t tell her he’d kissed her forehead when Magnus wasn’t watching. That he held her so close the heat of her body warmed him. That he had paused, however briefly, to thank God she was alive.

A crimson tide rose to her cheeks. “Then the air of mystique that should exist between us is gone, too. There’s nothing left to salvage.”

She was wrong.

He longed to know every part of her: every dream and desire. He yearned to taste her lips and feel the shiver of her body beneath his.

“The mystique is still there, Elsa,” he whispered.

Her teary eyes brightened with a faint flicker of hope.

He could make her desire him, even if she hated him.

“Carver was dead when we found you,” he said, returning to the secrets he’d kept from her. “You had his blood on your hands, more smeared on your thighs. The murder weapon was on the nightstand.”

A sob caught in Elsa’s throat. “No wonder you feared I had killed him. Why wasn’t I questioned by the magistrate? I remember nothing after walking in the woods.”

Daniel dragged a hand down his face. “If the coroner’s jury had inspected the scene, they would have arrested you or Magnus.”

“Is that why he fled to Geneva?”

“Not entirely.” The truth was a noose around his neck, tightening a little more each day. “We buried the body and hid the murder. I helped Magnus tidy the cottage and went along with the story that Carver was away on business before he resigned.”

Clara gasped. “No, Daniel.”

Elsa’s mouth fell open, her eyes growing wide with alarm. “But I’m innocent of a crime, and now you’re guilty of one. If they find the body and catch the real villain, they’ll still punish you.” She shook her head. “Magnus is a coward. He left you to deal with his problems.”

It certainly looked that way.

“There’s a reason you were used as a pawn,” he said, wishing Magnus had sought his help sooner. They might have lured the killer into a trap. “Magnus was being blackmailed.”

“Blackmailed? Why?”

“The villain wanted your father’s journal. By all accounts, he kept detailed records of his business dealings.” Perhaps some of those dealings were illegal. Whatever was written on the pages must be damning. “A hired thug arrived at the house to collect the book. Magnus gave him a letter saying he had never seen the journal and it wasn’t amongst your father’s belongings.”

Elsa sat still, listening intently.

Clara reached for Elsa’s hand, clasping it tightly.

“The blackmailer threatened to hurt you unless your brother found the book. Magnus tore every volume off the library shelves, searched every room, even the basement and attic, but failed to find the journal.”

“Perhaps their father destroyed it before he died,” Clara said. “Some people don’t want their private thoughts known.”

Elsa’s gaze drifted to a dark corner of the room. There it remained for a few drawn-out seconds. “It’s a blue leather-bound book, smaller than the average-sized novel.”

Daniel’s pulse quickened. “You’ve seen the journal? ”

So, it wasn’t a figment of the villain’s imagination.

“I crept up on my father in the hothouse and saw him studying the pages of a book. When I asked what he was reading, he shoved it into his coat pocket along with a pencil, and persuaded me to smell the roses. I knew not to ask a second time, and I never saw it again.”

For six months, Magnus had given the blackmailer free rein to search Edenberry. Despite endless nights spent watching the property, Daniel saw no one enter. The former Bow Street Runner he had hired to patrol the estate reported nothing untoward, either.

“Magnus claimed he knew nothing about the journal.” He was adamant. His father never mentioned keeping a diary and he had never seen it among his possessions.

“Men can be secretive,” Elsa replied.

Clara offered her insight. “The blackmailer is willing to kill to own the journal. Perhaps Magnus is lying and knows the moment he surrenders the book, he’s signing his own death warrant.”

“Yes,” Elsa mused. “That’s why he’s gone to Geneva.”

“Magnus fled to Geneva to avoid prosecution,” he informed her, but a seed of suspicion took root in his mind. Had Magnus lied? “He doesn’t have the money to pay damages and knows he’ll be liable.”

“To avoid prosecution? For what?”

“For failing to abide by the contract made between Lord Denby’s father and yours. You were supposed to marry a lord, not a commoner.”

Elsa jumped to his defence. “You’re not a commoner; you’re a member of the landed gentry. Some of your ancestors held noble titles. ”

“Forgive my attempt at wry humour. I meant a lord is always considered a better match.”

“Magnus had faith in you. He told me he needed me to marry you because you’re the only man he trusted.”

A memory slid into his mind: his quick response to Magnus’ late-night summons—a note saying ‘come at once and bring two shillings’. The sickening sense of dread when he learned she was missing, feared dead. The instant wave of euphoria when Magnus begged him to marry her as they carried her back to the house.

“Marrying you was no hardship,” she added. “Yet Magnus used your pact to persuade you to marry me.” Elsa swallowed the rest of her port. “That’s what I find most confusing. Why did he not simply take me to Geneva?”

Daniel had asked himself the same question.

“He needed to place distance between you. The blackmailer couldn’t threaten to hurt you if he didn’t know where you were. Creating instability weakens an opponent.”

It had forced the devil to search for the book himself.

Daniel had expected to return to Chippenham to find Elsa’s home ransacked. That everything remained intact suggested the blackmailer had been methodical in his search.

“That’s why you said I’d made things worse by coming here.” Elsa looked at the window. Was she struggling to look at him, or had she heard a noise? “And why you were annoyed I brought Clara to town.”

“You did what you thought was right with what little information you had.” Daniel crossed the room, parted the curtain and peered outside. Jarvis was still atop his box. “But yes. Your being here complicates matters. There’s every chance Carver’s killer has seen you, though I pray you’ve limited your outings to Aldgate. ”

“We’ve been discreet and tried our best to blend into the background,” Clara admitted. “Mainly to avoid alerting you.”

Daniel observed both women. One was a raven-haired beauty with a hideous scar cutting across one eye. The other a fae princess with the magical ability to steal a man’s soul. Surely every virile man in Christendom had noticed them.

“It’s no longer safe for you to remain here. A hundred people saw you in the countess’ ballroom. Gossip spreads like wildfire. As a precaution, you must pack a valise and leave tonight.”

After hearing his reasoning, surely Elsa couldn’t argue. Only one question remained: Where would he take them?

“You can’t return to Henley,” he mused aloud.

Elsa handed Clara her glass and stood. “I’ve changed my mind about going to Geneva.”

“Geneva was never an option.”

“Nor is lingering in the shadows, waiting for the blackmailer to find the journal and dispose of any witnesses.” Determination flared in her blue eyes, like sunlight on a restless sea.

Daniel kept his temper. The last six months had tested his mental limits. “I haven’t been idle. Magnus gave me a list of your father’s business associates. He was involved in a catalogue of poor schemes and investments. I’ve spent months gathering evidence, looking for a man who bears a grudge.”

Elsa snorted. “I assume the list is long.”

“Too long.”

Amid the brief quietude, Elsa straightened. The smile gently curling her lips held an air of triumph. “Logic says there is only one way to solve our problems. We must locate the journal.”

He scoffed. “What do you think I’ve been doing for the last six months? Besides, the blackmailer may already have it.”

“If he does, why disguise himself as a vagrant and attempt to enter The Grange? It’s likely he was successful a second time and stole my mother’s books.”

He released a weary sigh. Why hadn’t the vagrant killed her? Doubtless he was still hoping to use Elsa as a bargaining tool. The thought chilled his blood. It’s what he’d been trying to avoid.

“This is my problem, too.” Elsa stepped closer. She touched his upper arm like she meant to absolve him of the burden. “I know Edenberry better than anyone. I know every hidden cupboard and secret passageway. I will happily pack a valise because you’re taking me home to Chippenham.”