Chapter 27 #3
Hadrian’s blood froze as he took the paper from her. He willed his hands to be still as he opened it and read the contents.
Lord Ravenhurst and Miss Wren,
You have ruined my plans most egregiously, and there must be a consequence. As you know, I’m a very patient man. I will have my revenge.
Spring-heeled Jack
Hadrian looked up from the note and was surprised to see that Tilda did not look terribly concerned. The lines between her brows had smoothed away.
“I expected as much from Lawrence,” she said.
“But this is a blatant threat.” Hadrian frowned. “I don’t like this at all.”
“Nor do I, but we knew it was likely he’d seek vengeance again.”
“Yes, however we don’t know if it will be soon or in twenty-five years.”
“I suspect he’ll be too old in twenty-five years,” Tilda noted with a sardonic smile.
Hadrian refolded the parchment. “This is not amusing. Have you shared this with Teague?”
Tilda shook her head. “Not yet. I wanted to tell you first. We can show it to him together. It is to both of us. I’m surprised he didn’t send the same note to you.”
“Perhaps he did, and I just haven’t received it yet. It may have arrived since I left.” Hadrian was suddenly very angry. And more than a little afraid. He couldn’t bear if anything happened to Tilda.”
“It’s too bad it didn’t arrive a little earlier, for then I could have shared it with Wycombe.
He called to tell me that Lawrence has not returned to the Albion, and his lodgings have been abandoned.
He also said the Redmaynes have retreated to the country to fully recuperate.
Wycombe intimated that Teague had suggested they leave London for a time. ”
“Just as he said to us,” Hadrian said. “And now that you’ve received that note, I think it’s necessary. You and your grandmother can be my guests at Ravenswood.”
“Don’t you need to stay here for Parliament?” Tilda asked.
“I can take the train back and forth. Hampshire isn’t terribly far.”
“Is that an invitation, or are you making a demand?”
“I would never demand you do anything,” he replied, though in this case he wanted to. “You have a standing invitation to any of my homes.”
She stared at him. “Are there more than two?”
He realized this had never come up before. “Er, yes. There’s a hunting lodge in Scotland as well as a lovely cottage in the Lake District.”
“I’d no idea. Who takes care of them?”
“The lodge has a groundskeeper and a housekeeper. They’re married actually. The cottage has a small contingent of servants.”
She arched a brow in a thoroughly wry expression. “Is this a cottage like Lord Courtenay’s?”
Hadrian chuckled then grimaced. “Somewhat larger, I’m afraid.”
“I see,” she murmured. “One wonders what else I don’t know about you.”
Probably a great many things, just as there were countless things he didn’t yet know about her. But he was eager to. He’d never wanted to discover anything more than every single thing about Matilda Wren.
“I received a letter from Captain Vale in answer to my query about the effects of experiencing too many memories in a short period. As with nearly everything with this skill, it varies from person to person.”
Tilda regarded him with concern—and tender care. “Did you tell him you lost consciousness, and you suspect it’s due to the intensity of the emotions you’re sensing?”
“Yes, and he was alarmed to hear it.” He saw Tilda’s eyes darken and the lines in her forehead deepened.
He rushed to add, “But he wasn’t overly concerned.
Apparently, his son suffered in the same way the first few years after he obtained the ability.
” It was generally triggered by some kind of trauma to the head.
“Years?” Tilda’s eyes widened. “I’m sorry to hear that.”
“No sorrier than I,” Hadrian said wryly. He did not look forward to years of such debilitating pain and having to closely monitor the use of his ability, particularly when they were in the midst of an investigation.
“Since we are speaking of letters, I also received a missive yesterday from Mrs. Chadwick,” Tilda said.
Hadrian’s brows rose sharply. “Did you?”
Tilda nodded. “She thanked me for discovering who kidnapped and killed their daughter. She also apologized for her husband’s treatment of me, particularly the article he asked to be published about my mishandling of the case.”
“You didn’t mishandle a thing,” Hadrian grumbled. “That was kind of her to take the time to write to you, especially given the suffering they must be experiencing.”
“Yes, she mentioned her shock and grief that their daughter had conspired to fake her own kidnapping and steal their money in order to elope with her elocution tutor.” Tilda shook her head. “It sounds like the plot of a penny dreadful, except it’s true and very sad.”
“I can’t imagine how they must be feeling.”
“Actually, she concluded the letter with a bit of good news,” Tilda said. “Apparently, the Duke of Alnwick has consented to allow Vincent to court Lady Priscilla—after a suitable mourning period for his sister. Mrs. Chadwick hoped something good may come from everything that’s happened.”
“I will hope so,” Hadrian said solemnly. “For all their sakes.”
They fell silent, which didn’t happen very often for they were typically involved in a case that required discussion and theorizing. “Have you chosen your next case?” he asked. “I’m eager to assist, but I suppose you wouldn’t have a case if you decided to sojourn at Ravenswood.”
Tilda frowned, and Hadrian’s stomach churned. She stood and went to close the door, which only fed his anxiety. Returning, she sat on the settee but situated herself as far away from him as she could get, positioning herself so her back was against the arm. She twisted her upper body to face him.
“Hadrian, we can’t have any more cases together. Not the way it’s been.”
Harian felt as though the earth were collapsing beneath him. “Why not?”
“The press coverage, and the gossip…it’s been too much.
It hurts me as a detective to be an unmarried woman working with an unmarried man.
An earl, no less.” She took a breath, and Hadrian didn’t at all care for the sympathy in her eyes.
“I fear our arrangement damages you even more. You need to marry and you have duties, which you’ve ignored whilst working with me, your ‘lady detective.’”
“What are you saying?” His voiced sounded hollow.
He felt hollow. “I can’t not work beside you.
You’ve completely changed my life. Can’t you see I’m a private detective now too?
” Never mind how desperately I love you and can’t bear to be apart from you.
He wanted to say the words, but fear and despair clogged his throat.
“I can, actually, and I’m so happy to hear you say that, for the one thing I really don’t want to give up is our work together. However, there is only one way we can continue as we have.”
Hadrian began to breathe a little more easily. “I’m glad to hear you say you don’t want to stop working together. I can honestly tell you that being apart from you for even a pair of days is agony.”
“Then perhaps you’ll approve of my solution.” She scooted toward him and clasped his hands. Her eyes met his, and her lips curled into the most beguiling smile he’d ever seen her wear.
“Hadrian, Lord Ravenhurst, will you consent to be my husband?”