Chapter 29
“Ineed to see Thorne immediately,” Keaton exploded as soon as they returned to Westvale, “give him the ring and see what this club member can tell us about your brother.”
“I will come with you—” Georgia tried.
“If our quest takes us to Palin's, then I'm afraid that won't be possible,” he explained, “they have a policy against allowing women over the threshold.”
“What? How ridiculous!” she exclaimed.
He shrugged. “I did not say that I agreed with it. As a matter of fact, it is one of the reasons I declined to attend Palin's after the accident.”
“I cannot remain here doing needlepoint while you are discovering what happened to Elias!” she rasped, fiercely.
“Thank goodness you've returned. I was about to send out a search party!” Edric boomed.
Keaton pinpointed the voice to the door leading to the drawing room. He smiled over gritted teeth.
Uncle Edric seems to turn up at the oddest moments lately.
“Uncle, another unexpected visit,” he greeted.
“Yes, well, I happened to be in the area and it's a good job I was, frankly. I believe you've had a theft.”
Keaton frowned. “A theft? Of what?”
“I couldn't say, but I found your bureau broken in two. What did you keep in there?”
Keaton waved the question aside. “Has there been any signs of intruders in the house or a forced entry?” he demanded.
“Well, not that I'm aware of. There is nobody in the house allowed to enter your study except me, is there?”
Georgia opened her mouth, and Keaton heard the sharp intake of breath. He spoke quickly.
“Unless you have invited house guests, Uncle? I am told you feel like you've been running Westvale for me.”
He kept his voice light and jocular, but there was serious intent behind his comment, and he did not want Georgia mentioning Amelia. Not if Edric hadn't already realized that Amelia was here.
What am I doing? Distrusting my Uncle?
It felt as though he were hacking away at a foundation of his life. Something that held Westvale up, a keystone. But there were so many things that did not add up. The ring being hidden. The fact that his accident was only now seeming like it might not have been an accident after all...
Why did my uncle never mention another person being involved? Unless it was not an accident. It was something else entirely, and I have been lied to for years…
“I am a support only. A buttress for the edifice that is Westvale,” Edric said, humbly.
“My old friend, the Earl of Chester, related that you had presented yourself as considerably more than that,” Keaton muttered.
“Perhaps in your younger days or when you were recovering from your accident. In those days, I did a lot for Westvale, you must admit,” his uncle laughed awkwardly.
Keaton nodded. “You did indeed. And I am grateful. Immensely so. Well, Edric, on the topic of Westvale’s benefit, you will be pleased to know that my marriage to Georgia is to be extended beyond the planned thirty days.”
He felt Georgia's hand against his and let his fingers twine through hers. Her skin was soft, and her fingers slender and delicate.
“I am indeed. Most pleased,” Edric replied, somewhat uncertainly. “…Is that wise though, Your Grace?”
“Why would it not be, Lord Swinthorpe?” Georgia asked boldly.
“Because you have known each other for less than a month.
This was never meant to be a genuine marriage.
I wonder what has changed to so radically alter my nephew's mind. You can confirm, Your Grace, that our original plan was to annul the marriage and send your former wife back to Silverton. Until recently, that was the plan at least,” he explained bluntly.
Keaton felt his anger rise. Had he made such a monstrous plan? He knew that it had formed part of discussions. Before he had trusted Georgia. Before he had come to care for her. He felt Georgia's hand leave his own with a twitch, sensed her distance from him.
Such words must have hurt to hear. That is why Edric said it, damn him! He wants to drive her away.
“Apologize!” he snarled.
“There is no need, Keaton,” Georgia said in a voice that dripped with brave pain, “I knew what our arrangement was when I married you. It comes as no great shock.”
“It should not,” Edric nodded insistently, “it is what was agreed.”
“Be silent, Swinthorpe!” Keaton roared at once. “In fact, begone!”
“No, I will go, and... I will go to my rooms,” Georgia said, voice trembling, “I am tired after our swim.”
Keaton reached for her, but she removed herself from the periphery of his touch. He heard her footsteps hurrying away towards the stairs.
“Damn you, Edric! You have thrown caltrops beneath the hooves of my marriage at exactly the time it was beginning to gallop!”
“Perhaps it was at just that time that a firmer hand was needed on the reins,” Edric retorted, “since that woman came into this house, you have changed.”
Keaton took in a deep breath, fighting to control his anger in deference to the help Edric had given him over the years.
“When I was found in the carriage wreck. What was I holding?” he asked, stepping closer to Edric.
“Holding? Nothing at all. What are you talking about? Wait, do you mean the ring?”
Keaton nodded starkly, though inside he was reeling.
He cannot know of that. I told no one except Thorne and Georgia. If he knows, it can only be because he has seen the ring, which has always been locked in my bureau. Until the bureau was broken into.
“Yes, the ring. Nothing else? No clue as to what happened?” Keaton continued, striding away, keeping his voice level.
He reached a bellpull and tugged it, summoning a servant.
“No clue. Just that damned ring. God knows where it came from,” Edric said, sounding relieved.
Did he believe he was out of the woods? That Keaton's suspicions had been allayed?
“You rang, Your Grace?” Rutherford announced himself across the hall moments later.
“Ready the trap to take me into town, Rutherford. We will go to the offices of Mr. Aloysius Thorne and then to Palin's.”
“Palin's? Excellent. Haven't been there in years!” Edric roared enthusiastically.
“No, Uncle. This business is between Thorne and myself. And, of course, the man who put the ring in my hand. Elias Roseton.”
His senses were alert, hearing straining for any sound of shock or surprise. There was a pause, a hesitation so slight that Keaton would not have noticed it had he not been listening for precisely that.
“There was no one else there. Elias... Roseton? The same family as your wife comes from?”
“The same. It is not important. I go to confirm Elias' fate for my wife and to shed some light on my own mystery, too, I hope. For so long, I had thought them separate incidents. Now, it seems they may have been intertwined all along. Go home, Edric. I will send for you when I wish to see you next.”
“I can remain here, and—”
“And nothing!” Keaton snapped, “Go to Swinthorpe and stay there until I send for you.”
He had no intention of allowing his uncle to be alone in the house with Georgia or Amelia, even with the servants present.
“As you wish,” Edric murmured. The sound came of clothes rustling, as though bowing stiffly.
His footsteps stalked away, and Keaton heard the door open and then slam shut.
“His Lordship is not to be admitted without my express permission,” Keaton explained, trusting that Rutherford still waited patiently by.
“Of course, Your Grace,” Rutherford replied. “Also, there is another matter that requires attention—”
“That can wait,” he huffed. “Have a carriage prepared double quick!”
Georgia could not find Amelia in her rooms. She searched, going from room to room, calling out to her.
Lord Swinthorpe’s words had been a hammerblow.
She tried to tell herself that she should expect nothing less.
The marriage had been one born of convenience.
It did not mean that Keaton still felt that way, just because he had once.
She wanted to go back to Keaton, to make it up to him, but her priority now was Amelia. Finally, on the top floor of the house, in a dusty room with furniture under sheets, she found Amelia, hiding behind a covered sideboard. The younger woman dashed to Georgia.
“Thank goodness! I was so scared. I didn't even know if I could go to the servants. My father was just here, and so was Lord Emsworth. They demanded that I be handed over to them. Rutherford refused to admit them to the house, though. They said they would be back with the Bow Street Runners, that they believed I was being held here against my will!”
Georgia hugged the younger woman tightly.
“Neither I nor Keaton will allow that to happen, Amelia,” Georgia avowed.
“But I am under the age of one-and-twenty. I do not think that either of you could stop my father from taking me home with him, could you?”
“Of course. When the authorities see that it is against your will. They cannot compel you if you do not want to go, Amelia. Trust me.”
Amelia smiled tearfully but with a shadow of confidence. She nodded.
“I do. I trust you, but I do not know the Duke, so I cannot say the same for him. It seems that he is somewhat… changeable in his moods. I will trust him if I know that you do.”
Georgia did not want to hesitate in her answer.
Thoughts whirled through her head. The intimacies she had shared with Keaton.
The revelations they had discovered together.
The trust he showed in her, to be his eyes.
But one word at Ranelagh had destroyed Georgia's foundations.
And a revelation of something Keaton had said in the past had shattered them again.
Amelia needed Georgia to reassure her, to tell her that of course Keaton was a man to be trusted. But Georgia could not say that.
How quickly my own trust evaporates. Do I trust him? Am I just wanting to trust him because it is preferable to the life I will have without him? Does he trust me? It seems that for the longest time that we have known each other, he has been suspicious of me and my motives.