Chapter 27 #2
“He was not, although I cannot claim to have realized it at the time.”
One of Apsley’s auburn brows lifted. “And now?”
“Now…I love her completely. I cannot deny it.”
Apsley fought a grin. “Well, I could not have asked for a better response. I suspected you did, given your reaction to her departure from the room this morning, but it never hurts to be certain.”
“I never meant to hurt her, and I will strive to never do so again. I want her to be happy. If I can ensure that, then regardless of whatever else I fail to achieve, I will have accomplished something with my life.”
Apsley pursed his lips and tossed his head from side to side. “I imagine that my sister will expect you to accomplish more than that, but regardless, someone else’s happiness is never fully your responsibility. Treat her well. Cherish her. Love her. That is all I ask.”
I extended my hand to him. “You have my word.”
Apsley accepted the gesture, his wide grin still in place.
We finished our drinks in lighter conversation, but even a strong drink could not deter my mind from wandering to Annette.
She needed to rest, just as the doctor said, but I would likely go mad waiting for her to recover.
There was so much I needed to tell her. So much I wanted to say.
A chuckle drew me from my thoughts.
“I’ve lost you,” said Apsley. “But, pray, spare me the confirmation that you are thinking about my sister. A man can only handle so many trials in the course of a day.” He patted my shoulder. “The next week shall be long, I imagine. Best find yourself something to do until she recovers.”
A task not easily done.
For three days, I lived in the drawing room, attempting to occupy my mind with more than Annette.
It was, mostly, in vain, for my thoughts never drifted from her for long.
Her fever had broken by the second morning, and Lady Paxton ensured me multiple times a day that her daughter was well, albeit exhausted.
It would not be long before I could see her.
Until then, I had taken to correspondence, writing to nearly everyone of my acquaintance in hopes of receiving assistance in tracking Hollinsby.
I was uncertain whether anything would come of it.
Lord Paxton often lent his ear to my troubles and had even provided me with a list of his personal contacts who might be of help.
Once sent, however, all I could do was await a response.
More waiting.
I would go mad.
“You need to find something to occupy yourself,” said Jack from his place on the sofa. He watched me pace the room, as if I was providing him with enough amusement he needn’t leave the house to find it elsewhere.
“I have exhausted all of my contacts and your father’s,” I snapped back. “Indeed, there is unlikely a piece of paper left in this house for me to write on with how many letters I’ve sent.”
Jack shrugged. “You could ride into town for more supplies. Or find a different hobby.”
I could, but that would take me away from Kenwick.
“Be kind, Jack.” Bridget shifted on the sofa, settling her embroidery cushion against her lap. Even from here, I could tell it had a ship with a pirate flag. The young woman was obsessed with pirates. “Lieutenant Paget is pining for our sister. Let him be.”
“I was not being unkind,” Jack rebutted. “But you are correct about the pining. Our lieutenant has become a lovesick fool. What a shame.”
Bridget glared at him before turning her attention back to me. “Ignore him. I think it is all quite romantic.”
“Romantic or not, he still should find something to do,” said Jack. “Going into town is a viable option.”
I shook my head. “I wish to be here when…when your sister is ready.”
“Lud.” Jack rolled his eyes. “She may not be well enough to receive you for days more.”
I shot him a glare. He was correct, but I had no wish to consider having to wait days longer to see Annette. My feet stopped moving, and I ran a hand through my hair. “Perhaps a ride would help.”
It wouldn’t. Only one thing would rid me of this anxious energy, and the option was not available to me. Neither Lady Paxton nor Apsley would take kindly to my barging into Annette’s room and demanding a private audience with her.
Lord Paxton would probably approve, but that was beside the point.
Jack frowned as though someone had taken away his favorite puppy. “Well, then, I suppose I must be off. If you intend to leave, I shan’t have anything to amuse me.”
“Forgive me for ruining your fun,” I responded flatly.
Jack grinned, and I followed him from the room.
To my surprise, he left the house, but he did not accompany me to the stables.
I lost sight of him as he wandered the path through the pleasure gardens toward The Towers.
That was a mystery Annette and I had never solved, and I considered following Jack for a moment.
I could question his purpose in having the key, using my excuse to view Willowbrook from the east tower’s prime position.
But I had no need to spy on Willowbrook any longer. Hollinsby was long gone.
I paused just outside the stables, my brows furrowing.
Hollinsby was gone, but he had left in haste.
Did that mean he had time to clear everything out of the house that might be used as evidence against him?
Perhaps not. In fact, the hastier a person’s actions, the more chance there was of them making a mistake.
My pulse increased as I debated the wisdom of what I was about to do, but I could not pass on this opportunity. Visiting Willowbrook may lead to nothing, but there was a chance I could walk away with information.
Information strong enough to bring a case against the man.
I glanced toward Kenwick and sighed. Jack had said I needed a distraction. Perhaps this would do.
Once Lightning was saddled, I rode for Willowbrook.
My heart hammered with anticipation, steadily increasing as I approached the manor.
There was an eerie atmosphere about the place, and the closer I came, the more unsettled I felt.
Nothing stirred outside the building, and I debated whether to knock on the door or simply waltz inside.
The latter was tempting.
I knocked, deciding to forgo the impulse. This was not my property, and if I were caught entering without permission, there would be repercussions. I did not need to hand Hollinsby my head on a silver platter.
But no answer came to my knocking. Langley had said he believed the servants had all gone as well.
I roamed the grounds outside the estate for half an hour, seeking to confirm Langley’s observation.
The stables were empty of both horses and humans, which left me confident that the place was entirely abandoned.
Only with that belief did I finally enter the house.
No one had even bothered to lock the front door, yet more evidence of the haste with which Hollinsby left.
I stood in the small vestibule, glancing around at the interior decor with scrutiny.
Nothing about the paintings and sculptures was abnormal.
Nothing about the wallpaper or ornamental vases hinted that a criminal had lived here.
The house was just like Hollinsby—genteel and all things proper on the outside, while internal secrets hid the monster. Hid the crimes.
It was Hollinsby’s study that I wished most to explore, but I began my search belowstairs.
While the empty stables were a good indicator that the place was abandoned, I wanted further confirmation before digging through the man’s personal space.
So, I quietly crept down the stairs and peeked into the rooms, my heart beating so loudly I feared that, if anyone were here, they would be apprised of my presence long before I saw them.
With each room I found vacant, my confidence grew. The silence was almost deafening. I had never been in a house this quiet. Not even the ruins at Kenwick could compete with the lack of sound.
A floorboard squeaked beneath my boots as if in direct protest to my thoughts. From within a room at the end of a long corridor, the loud crash of a tin echoed straight into my heart. My chest constricted, and I waited without breath for someone to appear. I was not as alone as I suspected.
When no further noises emanated from within, I slowly continued down the corridor. Why had I not thought to grab my pistol before leaving Kenwick? The item lay in my bedchamber, which did me little good now.
I leaned my back against the wall and carefully peeked inside the room.
It was a larder, one that still had the scatterings of food strewn across its counters.
The remnants of half-chopped vegetables remained, yet more evidence of the quick departure by both master and servants.
A single tin pot rested on the ground, too far from where its counterparts sat on the shelf to believe it had merely fallen off on its own.
I took a step inside, my eyes searching the space, my muscles tight. A rattle near the back wall drew my attention, and between two barrels I could just make out the fabric of a worn coat and a head of shaggy hair. The tightness in my body eased at once, and I sighed with relief.
“Lucas, you may come out,” I said.
Several beats of silence passed before Lucas lifted enough to peer over the barrels. His eyes landed on me, and a mix of emotion twisted his features. He stood up fully, and his gaze hardened as he took me in. “What do ye want?”
I was momentarily taken aback by the hostility in his tone…until I remembered. I had made this boy promises—promises I had forgotten in my hasty pursuit of Hollinsby. Was he aware of my departure? If so, I could not blame him for the coldness in his voice.
“What are you doing here, Lucas?” I asked softly.
“What’s it to ye?” He stepped out from behind the barrels, his arms crossed. “This isn’t yer house, so why should ye care why I’m here?”