Chapter Twenty-Six
Her focus flickered once over the script and her features immediately shifted. Hardened. The arched brow rose higher as her gaze narrowed. “You found this?” Her voice was low. “In the back of a drawer in the writing desk in my bedroom.”
Edmund felt just a tiny prick of shame—easily dismissed considering he’d not have known of the danger she was in if he hadn’t snooped. “I told you I’d be coming to your room when I left you that night. You weren’t there.”
“So, you searched my room.” Her tone grew more strident before she lowered it again. Her stare now was sharp and pointed. “For what? What were you looking for?”
He shrugged and glanced away. “You.”
“In a drawer?”
Bringing his gaze back to hers, he admitted, “I was looking for things that might let me know you better.”
Her expression remained stern and accusing. “Because conversation is just so damned difficult.”
He smiled. “Sometimes.”
She rolled her eyes.
“I shouldn’t have gone through your things. But I did. And I found the threats.” He brushed his knuckles along her throat. “Why didn’t you tell me you’re in some sort of trouble?”
“Because I’m not,” she replied firmly as she tried to walk past him and out of the private arbor.
He stopped her with a hand around her wrist. “Lydia, threats like these should be taken seriously.”
She laughed. And looked up at him. “No. They shouldn’t.”
“Fuck,” he muttered, frustrated over her utter lack of concern. “You cannot be so careless with your safety.”
The amusement left her face as she answered with firm conviction. “I’m not.” Then she tilted her head and smiled again. “Are you worried about me, Lord Darlington?”
Edmund shoved his hands back through his hair and huffed a sigh. “Of course! You’re being threatened by some anonymous miscreant. Why aren’t you worried? You should be terrified.”
The lady sighed and turned back to him. “Though you should trust my word on it, I can see that you are not going to allow this issue to rest.” She crossed her arms over her chest. “Tell me…did you read all of the notes I’d intentionally hidden in my drawer?”
Edmund nodded stiffly.
“And did anything about them strike you as odd?”
“Odd, no.” His brows arched. “Threatening and dangerous, yes.”
“There is no danger when the threats carry no weight.” She lifted the note in her hand. “This person threatens to expose my secret and ruin me and my family before all of society, yes?”
Edmund nodded again and the lady grinned.
“The issue with that,” she noted triumphantly, “is there is no bloody secret. The things I do are known enough to anyone who wishes to pay attention. And last I heard, having a reputation as a bluestocking has already solidified my place on the lower rungs of desirable society.”
“There is no secret?” he asked. “No scandalous activity you’ve successfully hidden?”
“No—” she began, then stopped and rolled her eyes. “Not until very recently.”
His body hardened at her reference to the clandestine activities in which they’d been engaging.
“So, if there’s no secret, what is this person’s purpose in sending the messages?”
“Excellent question. There is none.” She waved the note again. “There’s no demand for payment or anything else, so it’s not blackmail. And despite my total lack of response, they haven’t followed through on what they’d warned. It’s rather ridiculous, actually.”
Edmund held his hand out for the note and she gave it to him. After reading through it again, he acknowledged the truth in her assessment. “How long have you been getting these notes?”
“Several weeks, at least. Almost since the very start of the Season.”
She took the piece of paper from his fingers and crumbled it back into its former ball and stuffed it into a hidden pocket of her dress. Then she raised a brow. “Are you satisfied?”
“No, not at all.” He scowled at her. “It’s still an odd series of messages. And their threatening tone shouldn’t be ignored.”
“I’m not ignoring it. But unless there is some evidence of true danger…” She shrugged. “I’m not going to stop living my life in the way I enjoy. No doubt it’s just some sort of prank or jest in poor taste.”
He wasn’t about to pass it off as a simple jest, but her words did spark a thought; what if the whole intention of the notes was to cause her enough fear that she ceased some of her usual activities?
But why?
He tensed with another thought.
Could the notes be somehow related to Mr. Trevor’s client?
“Now,” the lady said, a stern note in her voice, “We must address this misconduct of yours. You invaded my privacy, Darlington, and that is not acceptable.”
Still not completely appeased by her explanation of the notes, Edmund lowered his chin. “Agreed. I shall never do it again.”
“I should believe you?”
There was an undeniable sternness to her tone, but it was the look in her eyes that struck him most acutely. In the deep storm-blue, he saw flickers of her previous distrust.
Guilt swept through him, heavy and consuming, but he refused to break her gaze. She deserved better from him. With a hard clench of his teeth, he released a weighted exhale.
“No.” His lips curled ruefully. “You probably shouldn’t.”
She tensed so sharply it hurt Edmund to see it. Then she lifted her chin to a challenging angle. “What does that mean?”
Edmund shoved a hand through his hair, muttering beneath his breath as he glanced back over his shoulder.
“I’d like to explain everything. But not here. Can you get away?”
For a moment, there was no change to her expression. Then she slowly nodded. “Bridget knew I was meeting you. She’ll assume I left with you and she’ll come up with a proper excuse.”
His eyebrows arched in question. “What does your cousin know of us?”
“Don’t worry,” she assured in a flat tone. “She will not betray me.”
He understood her innuendo. His chest tightened and his stomach turned uncomfortably. But he’d known for some time that this conversation was inevitable.
“Is there a way out of this maze that will keep us from being seen?” he asked.
A slight pause. “Yes. There is a back exit.”
Despite his current distress, he couldn’t help but smile. The lady was endlessly resourceful.
He stepped back so she could pass by him. “Please, lead the way.”
She did. With her held high and not a single backward glance to ensure he followed.
He couldn’t ignore the change in her body language.
The bit of softness and vulnerability she’d started allowing him to see was gone, replaced by that physical resistance he’d witnessed in her upon their first meeting.
Along with the cool gaze and flat, unwavering tone.
Their passage was silent, and they made it to the rear of the maze without encountering anyone else.
From there, it wasn’t much farther to where his carriage had been parked.
Ensuring no one was about to witness their departure together, he assisted her into the vehicle.
She didn’t even glance to him as she set her hand in his.
After instructing his driver to take them to his home, he took the seat opposite her and held his breath.
She was going to hate him.
He hated himself. But delaying this revelation was unfair and, as he’d started to fear, possibly dangerous.