Chapter Twenty-Nine
Winifred pulled open the curtain in her room on the top floor of the Clarence Hotel and gasped.
In the bright light of morning, George Square was beautiful, with four paths in the grassy plaza leading to a statue of a mounted general.
Ladies wearing wide-brimmed hats lavishly piled with flowers and feathers promenaded along the sidewalk and the street was busy, with carriage rattling along the cobblestones.
It was such a change from the castle that she stared, openmouthed, for several seconds before remembering she was supposed to be meeting Felicity for breakfast. Keenan had awakened Winifred an hour earlier, but it had taken ages to sort out what Winifred would wear—a chartreuse twill walking suit—and then Keenan had done up her hair and selected a hat and proper shoes.
It had been weeks since she’d last dressed appropriately for her station, during the dinner with the vicar and his wife.
She felt like a soldier wearing a suit of armor, preparing to venture into battle.
Or, in her case, a crowded hotel lobby. It was exciting and intimidating, but most of all—lonely.
Especially knowing Marcus was back at the castle.
She already regretted leaving so abruptly.
That he knew about her ancestors didn’t matter.
He had only spoken to her cruelly because he’d wanted her to give up trying to help him, and she’d foolishly let him.
“Are you ready, my lady?” Keenan asked.
Winifred turned away from the window and joined her lady’s maid. “Yes.”
Together, they descended to the crowded first floor and made their way to the restaurant.
Felicity was there, sitting at a table in the garden wearing a lovely, yellow cotton day dress with a heart-shaped neckline and a wide, straw hat. She lifted her teacup to her lips in an unhurried manner, nothing like a woman in desperate need of rescue.
Her cousin was well. Winifred had feared she’d find her cousin a babbling mess, but clearly whatever had caused Felicity to write with such urgency was not so important that it couldn’t wait until after breakfast. Winifred’s legs wobbled before she caught herself and strode forward.
Felicity spotted them through the French doors, straightened, and lifted a hand in welcome. Winifred left Keenan with other servants of guests and joined her cousin at a table in the garden.
“Thank you for coming,” Felicity said with a smile. “I do apologize for drawing you away so soon after your wedding.”
“What is it, then?” Winifred asked. She lowered her voice. “Do you need my help?”
“Not at the moment.”
Winifred’s leg bounced beneath the table. She stilled it. “Will you come back to the castle with me?”
Felicity leaned back. “Absolutely not!”
The strength of her cousin’s refusal angered Winifred more than if Felicity had outright insulted her husband. “What is it, then? Why did you need me to come?”
Felicity chewed her lower lip. “The earl did not accompany you?”
Winifred sighed. “No. What is wrong, Fel? Are you well?”
Felicity squirmed in her seat. “Yes. Living with Uncle Ethan is challenging, but he last left me alone these past few weeks. I… I wished to see you. That is all. I thought it would be easier for you to travel here than all the way back to London.”
Winifred remembered Marcus’s warning about a trap. She hadn’t thought Felicity capable of such deception. “Uncle Ethan did not warn you against seeing me?”
Felicity laughed. “Of course he did, Winnie. He ordered me to remain in my room while he dealt with some business this morning.” She scoffed. “He ordered his valet to watch my door, but the man was more than willing to turn his head for a few bank notes.”
Her cousin’s glib admission banished what remained of Winifred’s fears.
Felicity was impulsive and occasionally audacious, but she was still Winifred’s best friend.
If their family had arranged a trap, Felicity was not involved.
All Winifred had to do now was convince Felicity to return home with her.
“Why did the earl not join you on the journey?” Felicity asked.
Winifred’s knee had started bouncing again.
She pressed her heel firmly to the ground.
She’d carefully avoided mentioning Marcus’s condition in her letters to her cousin, but it seemed now was the chance to reveal all.
Given Felicity’s interest in the occult, she might have some insight into the “mate atrophy” Marcus had mentioned.
“My lord rarely ventures away from the castle,” Winifred said, choosing her words with care. This was a topic that could ignite rumors.
Felicity’s eyebrow rose. “I see. Well, I cannot say I miss his absence, if it means I have you to myself. It feels as if we are girls again.”
Winifred smiled. Indeed, spending time with Felicity reminded her of how they’d gotten along like siblings when they’d been younger, before her parents had spirited her out of the country.
“Do you remember that night?” Winifred whispered.
“When our uncle…” She touched her bodice above where the scar rested.
She would never forget trembling with fear as Vincent held her firmly from behind while her uncle had approached, wielding the branding iron.
The scream that had ripped out of her throat when it had touched her flesh had seemed more animal than human.
“I cannot imagine what it is like continuing to live in that house after what he did to us.” She met Felicity’s gaze.
“Come home with me, Fel. You could be free of him.”
“I cannot,” Felicity said. “Please don’t ask to explain, Winnie.” Then she brushed a feather that had drooped over the edge of her straw hat back into place and continued in a much lighter tone. “Living with Uncle Ethan is not without its challenges. But tell me more about the earl.”
Something was wrong. It was typical of her cousin to abruptly change the topic, but not like this.
It had to have been their uncle. Maybe Felicity feared he had more spies watching them.
If so, it was best for Winifred to proceed as she always did with her cousin and let the matter drop.
She would get answers from Felicity later, in a more private setting.
“He has exceeded my expectations in every regard,” Winifred said.
“I am glad to hear that.” Felicity picked up a spoon. “I admit I had my concerns. The earl’s ancestors and ours have a… complicated history.”
The way her cousin carefully chose her words made Winifred wonder if Felicity already knew about Marcus’s nature.
It shouldn’t have been a surprise. Thanks to her mother, Winifred’s education in her family’s history had ended the night of the branding, but Felicity had not been so blessed.
If Marcus was right and the stories she’d been told as a girl were true, then had Felicity known Marcus was a vampire since before the wedding?
That would explain her whispered warnings and dire predictions.
Was her cousin a hunter?
She shivered. Felicity had been her first and only friend for most of their lives.
It pained Winifred to think Felicity might have kept such a significant secret.
At the same time, she simply could not believe Felicity meant her harm.
They had been through too much together.
Spies or no, Winifred had to get Felicity to talk.
“What do you know of the Devilles?” Winifred asked.
Felicity tapped her spoon on the table. “Not much. The title is relatively new.” She sniffed. “But as our uncle said, our family has a feud with theirs.”
That was quite enough speaking in circles for Winifred. She picked up a piece of shortbread, nibbled the edge, then said, “I wouldn’t call one family hunting the other like animals a mere ‘feud.’”
Felicity’s hands jerked, causing her to slosh tea onto the table. She grabbed a napkin and dabbed at the spill. “What did the earl tell you?”
Winifred picked up her saucer so Felicity could wipe beneath it. “Everything I needed to know. As his wife, I tend to my husband’s needs. All of them.”
Felicity wrapped her ice-cold fingers around Winifred’s wrist. “Does he know about our family history?”
Winifred twisted out of her cousin’s grip. “That is none of your concern.”
She’d intended to convince her cousin to return to the castle with her, but now that she knew Felicity had known the truth all along but had elected not to tell her, she wasn’t sure that was a good idea.
What other secrets was her cousin keeping?
“You cannot allow him to bite you, Winnie,” Felicity said. “He is a creature of pure evil. I had thought you would be safe as his wife, but—”
“Fel!” Winifred regretted bringing up the topic in such a public venue. “Marcus is a gentleman.”
They had not been married long, but the letters they had shared had laid the groundwork for their relationship. He had his flaws, but he wasn’t cruel and certainly not evil.
Felicity narrowed her eyes. “They are monsters, Winifred, and not to be trusted.” She straightened. “But we should not discuss this here. Let’s go to the museum. There’s something I must show you.”
Winifred shifted in her seat. “I agree.” It was suddenly much too crowded. She’d started the day intending to discover what was so important that Felicity had called her away and then convince her cousin to return with her, but now all she wanted to do was change Felicity’s mind.
It wasn’t too late. She’d indulge Felicity’s request for a museum visit and then try again.
The next hour passed in awkward silence as they found a cab and crept through the morning traffic.
The cramped confines made Winifred sweat beneath her walking dress, and the quiet was almost oppressive, but she did not dare raise the topic of Marcus again while their driver could overhear.
Instead, she chewed the inside of her cheek until they arrived at their destination and exited the cab.