Chapter 26
Twenty-Six
“Why are you here?” Adele’s voice held an edge that Warner could not place.
It was not anger or at least, not only anger. He studied her face, looking for signs of her emotions as she surveyed the shaking woman in front of them.
The coldness and anger in Adele’s voice had caught him off guard, but he could understand it.
After all, this may well have been the woman who betrayed her.
Even though she claimed that she would not have done it, and even though Warner believed her, he doubted that Adele’s anger and hurt would just vanish.
He held himself away from his wife. His head felt thick and fuzzy, and the scent of roses filled his nostrils, making his thoughts come thick and slow.
He needed his wits about him, and that was impossible when Adele was nearby.
I should never have let myself get so distracted — what if it had not been a maid but some hired killer? There is still a murderer on the loose.
“I wanted to apologise for how we treated you. It was not right, and you did not deserve it.” Mrs. Patmore’s voice shook.
“No, I did not.” Adele stiffened and Warner clenched his fists to keep from moving towards her.
“I also wanted to give you this.” Mrs. Patmore drew out a small leather journal with the familiar seal of the Marquess of Kidlington on its cover.
Warner’s mouth was suddenly dry. “What is this?”
“His Lordship’s journal. He kept it in his bedside table, and when he passed, I took it.” Spots of colour appeared on Mrs. Patmore’s cheeks.
“Why?” Warner took a step towards her, the blood in his body turned to ice. How long has she had this?
“I wanted Martha to have it, so she would have some piece of him. But she told me she did not want it, that seeing his words was too painful. So, I kept it f-for the baby. It didn’t seem right that the child would never know its father.
” Mrs. Patmore swallowed. “But then that story in the papers came out, and I knew it was lies! And then a man came round the house asking all sorts of questions about the Duchess and His Lordship.”
“And you did not give him this book because…” Adele’s voice sounded far away.
“He made my skin crawl.” Mrs. Patmore shivered. “I didn’t like the idea of a man like him reading private details of His Lordship’s life. But if someone wanted it, then maybe there was something important in it.”
“Have you read it?” Warner asked.
“Of course not!” Mrs. Patmore stiffened with affronted dignity.
Adele leaned towards her. “Why are you bringing this to us now?”
“In part to make amends for how I treated the Duchess. And partly because I know His Lordship trusted you; he always spoke most highly of you — I think he would want you to have this.” Mrs. Patmore looked at Warner as she said this and slid the journal towards him.
“And I know you will do the right thing.”
The bottom of Warner’s stomach fell away, and he nodded to her, unable to find words. He always spoke most highly of you. What would his cousin think of him now?
“Thank you, Mrs. Patmore. You have given us rather a lot to think about.” Adele stood at the same time as her former housekeeper.
Mrs. Patmore hung her head. “I am sorry that I did not give it to you sooner. I thought I was doing the right thing, but now, I’m not so sure.”
“You can only work with the information you have. And for my part, I do not hold it against you.” Adele’s voice was soft and kind. “And I am sorry for suspecting that you were behind this latest scandal.”
“I understand why you thought so, Your Grace. After the way we treated you, it’s only natural.” Mrs. Patmore gave her a small, sad smile.
Warner was barely aware of the two women leaving the room. He picked up the journal running his hands along it. His chest felt like an invisible hand was clasped around it, slowly squeezing tighter and tighter.
He always thought well of you. Warner’s hand shook. He walked up the stairs; he needed to be away from the smell of roses. He opened the door to his study and put the book on the table. He felt like he might be sick as he poured himself a scotch.
Warner stared at the journal on the table in front of him and sipped on his glass of scotch. He ran a finger across the cover, tracing the embossed crest of the Marquess of Kidlington.
Rothwell. He rubbed a hand over his chest. “What secrets do you hold?”
He took another drink of scotch, revelling in the burn of the liquid down his throat. It mingled with the ale, and he suspected he would regret the decision in the morning.
“How did I miss this?” Warner picked up the journal.
Adele’s face floated to the forefront of his mind. Her wild laughter as they had run down the street. The way she seemed to pull him off the path he had trodden for so long.
They had nearly kissed. He had wanted to kiss her. He would have kissed her, but the servant had interrupted. A cocktail of anger, relief and shame rolled over him. He could feel the warmth of her against his body, hear her rapid breathing. He trusted you.
“She is a distraction. She is too easy to lose myself in,” Warner mumbled.
Warner’s hand shook as he stared at the journal. “You saved me, and here I am… dancing and drinking and laughing with your widow.”
He knew that they had not been in love, that his cousin’s heart had belonged to another, but there was no denying that Eric’s death was the only way he could have had these stolen moments with Adele.
He could picture Rothwell’s face in his mind. There would be no anger, that was not his cousin. It would just be a sad disappointment. The look that said, “I thought you were better than this.”
Warner had thought it too. He had believed that he had grown, that he had become the kind of man worthy of his title. Yet something as simple as a pair of pretty brown eyes had completely undone him.
“Warner?” Adele’s voice caught his attention, and he turned to find her standing at the door with a tray of biscuits and tea.
He made a gesture for her to come in. She did, closing the door behind her as she sat the tray on the desk.
“Are you all right?” she asked sitting across from him.
“Yes.” No. He cleared his throat and gestured to the small book on the table. “I should not have missed this.”
“Mrs. Patmore hid it; there is no way you could have known. You are not some omniscient being.” Adele reached towards him, but Warner moved out of her reach.
He would not let her comfort him. “I have let myself be distracted. And look what has happened. I have missed vital things, things I would not have missed otherwise.”
He strode away from her, hardening his heart. He thought of all the pain he might have avoided if he had been more like himself. If he had stuck to his rules. They are there for a reason.
“Warner, there is no way —” Adele began, but he cut her off with an anguished roar.
“He was like a brother to me, Adele. He is the reason I am the man that I am.”
The man that I thought I was. Warner’s face twisted, and he downed the rest of his whiskey. “Someone murdered him, and you have distracted me too much for me to see the missing pieces.”
“What pieces do you think you have missed? We do not even know what is in the journal. It might be nothing.”
“You do not believe that.” Warner shook his head.
“I do not know what to believe.” Adele chewed on her lip, wrapping her arms around herself. “But the only way that we will know for sure is to read it.”
“No.” Warner’s voice was harsher than he had meant it to be, and he saw Adele recoil as if he had struck her. With an effort, he forced his voice to soften. “I would like to read it alone.”
“Why?”
You make me less than I need to be. Adele was so free and uncaring, and he had let himself got caught up in her recklessness. He had slipped, and now, he was paying the consequence for it.
He could not say that to her. He could not tell her that. His carelessness had put her at risk just as much as it had let him shirk from his duty to his cousin.
“They are his private thoughts –— I think the least we can do is treat them with respect.” It was a part of the truth, the part he could share with her. “He trusted me.”
Warner turned away from Adele, not trusting his resolve to hold if he looked at her. If he let her brown eyes pull her to him.
“I want to read the journal alone, Adele.” Warner took another sip of his drink, leaning his head against the wall. “I need to read his journal alone. Free of interference and distractions.”
He thought of the feeling of her hand in his. Remembered the wildness of her laughter as they had run through the street like school children up to no good. If he read this journal with her, he would not see what he needed to.
He owed his cousin more thoroughness than that. He had sworn to keep Adele safe, and the best way to do that would be to solve his cousin’s murder. And he could not do that when Adele seemed to steal all rational thought from his mind.
“I have to do this alone.” Warner swallowed, his voice toneless and empty. “It is for the best.”
“I see.” Adele’s voice jerked him back to the present. “I know how much he meant to you, and I can tell that this is important to you. I will leave you be.”
He heard the sound of her footsteps retreating towards the door. He listened to it open. His resolve snapped.