Chapter 19 #2
“You mean he murdered his father and made it look like a random attack. Bellingham’s claim of an assassin always sounded far-fetched.”
“But why beat him until he was unrecognisable? Wouldn’t he want everyone to know his father was dead?”
“His temper got the better of him. He didn’t try to make it look like a robbery. They identified the lord by his watch and signet ring.”
“And the card case in his pocket.” She remembered Melinda saying that.
She hugged Hugh’s arm and rested her head on his shoulder. She might have spent her life with a heartless killer, had she not found the courage to confront him on the landing.
She held on to that thought as they entered The George and the innkeeper gave them their room key.
This time, they didn’t stop on the stairs. They reached the chamber before Hugh kissed her, before she tugged his cravat loose, before he kicked the door shut behind them.
“I can’t help thinking you might have married that devil.” He tossed her bonnet onto the chair and cupped her face, kissing her as though he could drive the image from his mind.
She clung to him because the prospect of never having known this, of loving and trusting someone so completely, almost made her cry.
But fear slipped beneath the heat.
She could lose this. Lose him. Spend her life alone and aching.
Hugh felt the change in her and drew back. “What is it?”
I’m in love, and I’m afraid.
“Nothing. Just kiss me. Don’t ever stop.” She clasped the back of his neck and dragged his mouth back to hers.
He gave her what she asked for, kissing her with a hunger that stole the strength from her knees. She felt the wall at her back, the hard line of his body pressed close, his hands leaving her face to grip her waist as if he meant to hold her forever.
A knock sounded at the door.
He broke the kiss on a muttered curse. At the second knock, he pressed his forehead to hers, his breath ragged.
“We should answer it. It may be the doctor.” His thumb brushed her lower lip. “But rest assured, I intend to spend the rest of the night making love to you.”
Only the night, not the rest of her life?
He adjusted himself in his trousers, then answered the door.
It wasn’t the doctor, or Mrs Salter sneaking out to tell them something she’d forgotten.
“A gent gave me this in the yard an hour ago, sir. Said to wait until six o’clock before troubling you. Happen I’m five minutes late.”
Emma shifted closer, catching sight of the young stablehand who’d handed Hugh a letter.
“Can you describe the gent?”
The boy was quick to reply in the hope of still getting his penny. “A swell, sir. He strode into the yard and asked me to run his errand. Happen he put his name on the letter.”
He tossed the boy a shilling. “The extra is for being an impudent pup. If you see this man again tonight, come to me at once, and there’ll be another.”
Hugh closed the door and met her gaze. “Only two people knew we were coming to Hartham. Mrs Fenwick and Lady Bellingham.”
Unless they were being watched or followed.
“Not wishing to sound impudent myself, but I expect the boy was right and the gentleman signed the letter.”
He broke the seal and read the missive. After muttering what sounded like a profanity, he gave a humourless smirk. “Howden wants to meet me at the colliery tonight.”
The hairs lifted on her nape. Every fear she had buried since the marquee surfaced at once. “You can’t possibly go. He killed his father and probably had Mr Bellingham murdered.” And no doubt meant to kill Hugh and toss him into the mine.
“I’m curious to know who told him about our plans.”
She closed the gap between them, snatched the letter from him, and threw it to the floor. “You’re not going.” She planted both hands on his chest. “Let’s return to London and visit the magistrate. There’s more than enough evidence to reopen the investigation into the old lord’s death.”
He wrapped his fingers around her wrists. “You’re suggesting I run from that foppish reprobate? You know me better than that.”
“Why can’t you be a coward for once?”
He lowered his head. “You know why. You saw the marks on the door. I’ll never be that boy in the cupboard again.”
She sagged against him. If she’d never dressed in that stupid apron and questioned his morals, he would be safe at home writing his next story.
He kissed her hair. “You’re to stay with Dr Shadgrove until I return. Do you hear me, Emma?”
She straightened. “I’m going with you. You fell in love with a reckless woman and will have to accept the consequences.”
“Don’t make me lock you in.”
“You think I can’t climb out of a window?”
“I am rapidly discovering there are very few things you cannot do, but you won’t win on this.”
The devil!
“Maybe he has no plans to meet you,” she said, changing tactics. “Maybe he wants you gone so he can take me and drive me to Gretna Green.”
The vein at his temple pulsed.
“Leave me here,” she said, “and you’ll be looking over your shoulder the whole way to the colliery. Take me with you, and at least you’ll know where I am.”
“That is not the comfort you think it is.”
“No. But it is the truth.”
“I fear you have your sister’s gift for manipulation.” He stared at her for a long, drawn-out moment. “You will do exactly as I say?”
“Almost certainly.”
“Emma.”
“I’ll obey when your orders make sense.”
His mouth twitched. “That is the worst oath I’ve ever heard.”
“It’s the only honest one I can offer.” When he failed to reply, she asked, “What time is he expecting you?”
He pulled his watch from his pocket. “At eight, but we’ll leave now. That will give us time to scout the area.”
As she tidied her hair and fastened her bonnet, she considered Lord Howden’s letter. If he meant to kill Hugh, why leave a signed note proving he had lured him there? Unless he presumed Hugh would bring it with him.
“We should leave the letter with Dr Shadgrove,” she said as they reached the door. “Someone should know of our plans.”
They found Dr Shadgrove on the street, lighting his gig lamps. He grimaced when he saw them.
“Off to visit a patient?” Hugh asked.
“A farmer a mile out of town suffering with gout.” He placed his black leather bag on the seat. “As for Sarah Carson, there’s nothing more I can tell you.”
Emma expected Hugh to give him the letter. Instead, he thanked the doctor for his help and wished him good night.
“I don’t trust anyone here. Rowton will keep hold of it,” he said, leading her back through the archway into The George’s yard, where his coachman waited atop the box. “The doctor is afraid of his own shadow. Men like that make the worst witnesses.”
She didn’t argue. She would save her battles for when they reached the colliery.
The lane was dark as pitch, twisting between hedges, then straightening as they neared the mine.
Hugh reached into the cupboard beneath the seat and removed the mahogany box containing the brace of pistols. He opened the lid, checked the powder flask and shot, then closed it again. “I’ll load them once we arrive.”
She remembered rooting around in the same cupboard for his waistcoat. “So much has changed since the night we visited Fortune’s Den, though you looked at my ankles rather a lot then.”
“I noticed more than your ankles while your head was in the cupboard. Perhaps we’ll replay the scene tonight—you on your knees, and me trying to be a gentleman.”