Chapter 21 #2
She believed Richard. He had taken care of her the best he could while he was still alive.
He had never hurt her, until she had discovered the letter.
But she also believed Harry, as mad as that might seem.
It was a contradiction. Regardless, there had to be a way that both of them were telling her the truth.
Could Richard really have written all that he promised in his will?
Or had someone tricked him or forced him to write something different?
Harry vowed that he had never seen a version of the will that promised her this home, but something could have happened to the papers that Richard had penned and signed.
Her husband had been an older gentleman, but his mental faculties had never been questionable.
She could also be wrong. Perhaps she was an idiot for believing Harry, but she didn’t think she was.
Agnes could feel it in the way he held her like a valuable possession, one he meant to keep safe, and for himself.
Harry’s affection was as solid as Richard’s, but something more marvelous existed between the two of them.
After her words had time to sink in, Harry started with the practicalities of the situation. Ignoring the mystery of the inheritance for now, he jumped right into discussing their courtship.
“I know that it wouldn’t be proper for us to publicly court, so while I would love to invite you out in the city, we will have to postpone that until next year.
But in the meantime, may I call on you here?
I will be discreet. If you trust your staff, there won’t be too much risk of rumors.
I’ll keep meetings to a respectable frequency.
We can get to know each other, decide if we suit—”
She put her finger to his lips. “We suit.”
His words halted and he stared, wide-eyed. Then his eyes softened, darkened, and he kissed her finger. He grabbed her hand and placed kisses into her palm and down her wrist.
The butterflies in her stomach—no, she’d rather think of them as moths—became flurried, threatening to break free. But he blocked their path of escape as he placed a pressing, demanding kiss to her open mouth.
She kissed him back with every emotion she had felt since she had found his deep blue eyes at Richard’s funeral. A swirling concoction of grief and betrayal was surrounded by the giddiness, security, and lust she had experienced since he came into her life.
She wasn’t experienced with kissing, but this kiss was progressing further than their last, moving from a spark to a flame. Richard had never placed anything but a chaste kiss on the side of her mouth, and more often on the top of her head.
Her arms wound around Harry’s neck, his around her waist, pulling her breasts against his chest. They both moaned as he licked her bottom lip.
She would let him lead, although nature might already be in control.
Tentatively, she licked his lip too and his tongue met hers.
They took turns exploring, until he pulled away and laid kisses up her check and onto her eyelids.
His whisper was husky with lust, his breaths short.
“I’m so sorry you have felt alone. If I had known, I would have tried harder to visit.
I really would have climbed through your window.
” The thought of Harry climbing up the garden lattice and into her bedchamber made a heat swell between her legs.
He stroked her cheekbone with his thumb, looking truly remorseful. She had punished him for something that he had no hand in, and in the process, she had punished herself. But they were allies again in more than just the matter of inheritance.
“Please don’t knock down my butler, though. He’s formidable, but he’s getting on in years.”
“I can’t make any promises if he stands in my way of getting to you.”
She held onto his hand which still cradled her face. “I am really sorry, Harry. I should not have doubted you.”
He laid one last soft kiss on her forehead and then his expression grew determined.
“Can you tell me more about the will? How did you come to learn of it?”
Agnes was disappointed this discussion must interrupt their kisses, especially as her body screamed for more touch.
She rubbed the back of his hand with her fingers, delighting in the contact.
“I found a letter.” She pulled it from her dress pocket.
Since its discovery, she had kept it there, hoping that it held some answers she couldn’t quite see.
“I found it in Richard’s study.” Agnes hesitated.
She supposed that was true enough for now and would save the details for later.
Too many emotions already warred in her mind, and probably his.
Telling him about ghosts, secret rooms, and a haunted paperweight seemed a bit much.
He took the note from her hands and read it.
Agnes didn’t know if Harry knew of the true nature of Richard and Oscar’s relationship, but his surprise as he read the lines made her suspect he had not. Yet, he didn’t seem scandalized. Harry studied the letter, just like she had many times, searching for clues.
“Well, I can promise you that I have never seen the will he writes of. And I agree with you. Something is amiss. The will may have existed. I trust him, but I’m cautious about the current Skelton. I think it’s wise we do not tell him about this letter until we can discover more information.”
Agnes nodded, placing a small kiss on Harry’s cheek for no reason but that she wanted to. “But Harry, we cannot use this letter as proof for anything. I can’t have Oscar exposed, even now that Richard is gone. I won’t do that to him.”
“I understand. Another reason for my visit was to tell you that I’ve found Oscar. He’s supposedly back at the steward’s cottage at Skelton Manor. We can retrieve his copy of the will, and see if it matches the one Richard describes in his letter.”
Her smile faltered. “Oscar seemed quite despondent about Richard’s death. I wish I had known. He’s been suffering alone.”
“So have you. And you don’t need to anymore,” he said, pulling her close and resting his head on top of hers.