Sinfully Bound To The Enigmatic Viscount (Steamy Historical Regency Romance)

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Sinfully Bound To The Enigmatic Viscount (Steamy Historical Regency Romance) Page 8

by Scarlett Osborne


  That doesn’t sound good.

  Chapter 12

  Elijah arrived home. He left his horse with the groom, and then was let into Cambolton House by Hanby. The light from the outside lamps was golden on the butler’s silver hair.

  “Did you have a good evening, My Lord?” he asked.

  “Yes, I did.”

  “Very good, My Lord. May I get you anything?”

  “No, thank you.”

  He made his way to the parlor, where a candelabra was still lit. He sat down in the chair. He was, overall, pleased. He was formally courting Lady Diana.

  I’ll prove to Lord Lutterhall that I am worthy of marrying her.

  He was utterly determined. When he and Diana talked in a few weeks’ time, he knew with certainty, that they would both then be ready to wed. It would be a whirlwind courtship. He had never imagined that it would be so easy.

  Elijah believed in love and romance. He was an avid reader of plays, particularly Shakespeare, who was of the opinion that love stories were complicated.

  He poured brandy into a snifter for himself, from the cut-glass decanter. He thought, staring at the fireplace, which was empty. The night was warm, and a gentle breeze was coming through the window, stirring the watered-silk curtains.

  He felt content. Soon, he knew that Lady Diana would be here with him. He felt it in his bones, as he divined all truths. Just like he knew that the mystery involving his parents went deeper.

  Where would Father hide something that he didn’t want found?

  Elijah hadn’t been much in the countryside. Not since he was ten. As a small child, he had found nooks and crannies, where things could easily be squirreled away. There were hiding places, which could be opened by secret catches.

  Hiding places that my father would have known well, having lived here for so long.

  His father had lived in the countryside his entire life. Elijah had sought things in places that had been expected. Naturally, the desk and the boxes in the attic would be searched. He sipped his brandy thoughtfully.

  He remembered back, that there were secret places inside the manor. His memory was hazy, time-blurred. But it could be trusted. He knew of one, in his father’s bed chamber—a room that Elijah hadn’t often entered since he’d returned from the Continent.

  He stood, picking up the candelabra, and carrying it down the darkened hallway. He opened the door, stepping inside. He breathed in the scent of his father—a particular brand of cologne and leather. It was almost as if his father had just stepped out of the room, and would be back at any moment.

  His things had been left undisturbed. Elijah had told the staff to dust and sweep in here, but to leave his things as they were. He felt gooseflesh rise across his arms. As he looked into the shadows in the corners of the room, he almost expected to see his father’s ghost, watching him.

  He set the candelabra down, then walked over to the wall beside the bed. Kneeling down, he felt for the catch along the baseboard. He had found it, long ago, when he was small. It had been so long, that he had forgotten about it almost entirely.

  The compartment opened with a soft, well-oiled click, and he found several ledgers tucked inside. Also, there was a small book. It was bound in leather. He opened it, holding it to the light. He saw his mother’s hand.

  There was a knock on the door, startling him. “One moment.” He closed the compartment, leaving the book there. He walked over to the door, opening it.

  “I didn’t expect to find you here, My Lord,” Hanby murmured.

  “It’s my house, Hanby,” he replied sternly. He had never been questioned by a servant before.

  “Yes, of course. My apologies, My Lord.” Hanby’s eyes were on the floor as he bowed.

  Hanby left, closing the door. Elijah was suddenly suspicious of Hanby. He was the only member of the household who had been there during his mother’s time. He quickly opened the compartment, pulling out the journal and tucking it into his inside jacket pocket.

  He then went to his room. His mind was racing with sudden suspicions. He would keep Hanby close. After all, he had been working at Cambolton House at both the time of his mother’s death, as well as his father’s.

  Hanby either knew something, or suspected something. Elijah was suddenly very sure of it. He didn’t know how to convince him to divulge his secrets.

  * * *

  Diana was woken from her sleep. She sat up in bed. She thought she had heard something, from down the hall. She peered at the clock, over the mantle. Even in the darkness, she could see that the hands were pointed at three of the clock.

  The witching hour.

  At first, she thought that perhaps she had dreamed it. But then, it happened again. A female screaming, from the direction of her sister’s room. Immediately, fear struck Diana in the heart. Eleonora sounded as though she were being attacked.

  “Eleonora!” She got up, sliding her feet into her slippers, and pulling on her peignoir. She ran down the hall to her sister’s room. Her pulse was racing. Her sister was screaming in terror.

  When she arrived, Sarah was seated on Eleonora’s bed. She had lit a candle, and in its small, flickering light, Diana could see that her sister’s eyes were wide with fear, her cheeks shining with tears. Eleonora was sobbing, and her screams subsided.

  “What has happened?” Diana asked. She looked around, expecting to find something horrible. However, nothing appeared amiss. Only her sister seemed affected. She was slumped forward, her shoulders heaving as she cried.

  “Diana!” Eleonora sobbed. “Where is he?”

  “Who, darling?” She couldn’t think of a single he. Their father was well, likely asleep in his room in the East Wing, on the other side of the house from both of his daughters’ rooms.

  “I—I remembered. A gentleman,” she cried. “He loved me.”

  Diana’s heart leapt in her chest. She looked over at Sarah as she realized that Eleonora was getting her memory back.

  “She has flashbacks, sometimes, My Lady,” Sarah explained. “She remembers the gentleman she was going to meet.”

  Diana’s heart was pounding in her chest. This was more of a lead than they’d had, since the accident. Both Diana and their father had suspected that Eleonora had been going out to meet a gentleman—this confirmed it. Diana’s first thought was that their father should never find out. His rule of law was already iron-bound as it was.

  “Sarah, why hasn’t he come for me?” Eleonora asked. “Why hasn’t he come?”

  “I don’t know, My Lady,” Sarah said. “Perhaps he’s going to, any day now.”

  “It’s been months,” Eleonora said, sniffling. “Why hasn’t he come for me? Something awful has happened. I just know it.”

  Diana and Sarah shared a look, while Eleonora burst into more heartrending sobs. Sarah held Eleonora’s hands in her own. She reached up, to gently smooth her hair. In the candlelight, the wicked scar on her temple shone white.

  “How about I go and get you some hot milk,” Sarah suggested. “That always helps you to feel sleepy, My Lady.”

  Eleonora shook her head. “Nothing will ever help me again,” she insisted. “Something bad has happened to him. I don’t think he’s going to come for me.”

  “Do go and get her some hot milk, Sarah,” Diana said. Sarah nodded, and got up. Diana took the lady’s maid’s place. She took Eleonora’s hands in her own. “Do you remember his name, Eleonora?”

  Her sister shook her head. “I…I don’t think so. No.”

  “Do you think you could draw his picture?” Diana asked, trying to figure some way to find out who this gentleman was.

  “Maybe.” Eleonora’s chest was heaving, but her sobs were beginning to calm down. Diana’s mind was racing.

  “If you do, then I can show his picture around,” Diana explained, hoping that decisive action would help to soothe. “Surely, somebody will know him. Lord and Lady Albany, perhaps. They know everyone.” Her sister nodded, her eyes finally raising to look at
her. “Don’t worry. I’m going to find him for you.”

  “You’ll do that for me?” There was hope in her sister’s eyes, for the first time in almost half a year.

  “Of course I will. I want you to smile again, Eleonora. I want you to remember who you were, and why you were so happy before your accident.”

  Eleonora was nodding, slowly and thoughtfully. “You’ll find him. If anyone can do it, you can. You’re so good to me, Diana.”

  “It’s likely a misunderstanding, since he hasn’t heard from you,” she assured her sister. “It’s a little like a play, isn’t it? Once he’s found, then everything will be well again.”

  It wouldn’t be. Eleonora wasn’t ever going to be well. When they found the gentleman, she didn’t know what would happen. Especially when he found her so changed and unwell.

  Eleonora sighed in relief. “You’re right. I…I wasn’t able to write. I didn’t remember him. He’s not dead. He can’t be. I was the only one to…to have an accident.” She paused. “He’s not dead,” she repeated, as if she was trying to make herself believe it.

  “No, darling. He’s probably not. He’s waiting to hear from you. He’s probably absolutely desperate.”

  Eleonora leaned back against her pillows. Diana grabbed a handkerchief from her sister’s nightstand, and began to dab dry her cheeks. Eleonora was silent, thoughtful. She sniffled, her chest heaving.

  “I know that you’re likely right,” Eleonora said at last. “But my heart is still telling me that I’m forgetting something important, and not just his name.”

  Diana didn’t like the sound of that. She wasn’t sure what to say. She wasn’t entirely sure that this gentleman was real, or something that Eleonora’s injured mind had conjured up.

  What occurred to Diana, as she sat there, was that if he was meeting with her, then he would probably know who Eleonora was and where she lived. Diana, in her heart, knew that something had happened to Eleonora’s gentleman.

  Or he was the person who caused her accident.

  Chapter 13

  The next morning, Elijah went to call on Diana. It was a bright, sunny day. He was excited to see her, to tell her of his discovery the night before. He was so glad that she was helping him.

  He had hidden the journal, which he would read at length. He wanted to determine why his father had kept it hidden, and whether it had information which would help his search for clues.

  He was shown in to the drawing room, where Diana rose from the settee. She was dressed simply, in a pale cream-colored muslin, her hair pulled back in a simple bun. She had a few loose curls framing her cheeks.

  Her lady’s maid sat in the corner. She had some sewing in her lap, which she kept her eyes upon diligently. She was a mousy girl, not more than seventeen years of age.

  He studied Diana as he neared her. There were dark circles pressed underneath her eyes. Her smile was hesitant. He detected worry in her features.

  “Is something the matter?” he asked, walking over to her and taking her hand. “Are you unwell?” Concern for her filled him with fear.

  She shook her head, her eyes on their clasped hands. “My sister woke, in the night,” she explained. “Screaming and crying, because she remembered the gentleman that she snuck out to see the night of her accident.”

  “She did?” He was surprised. “This is good news, is it not?”

  Diana nodded, her eyes raising to meet his. She seemed hesitant, and her gaze slid to the floor.

  “That’s excellent,” he said when she was silent. “Who was he?”

  “When I went to her this morning, she didn’t remember,” she told him, her eyes filling with tears. “She didn’t remember waking last night.”

  He sat down beside her, pulling a handkerchief out of his pocket. She took it, dabbing at her eyes.

  “I’m sorry,” she said, sniffling.

  “For what?” he asked. “You’re concerned for your sister. It’s perfectly natural.”

  She nodded, visibly attempting to settle herself. “I’m sure that you want—”

  “Would you introduce me to her?” he asked.

  “She’s not herself.” Diana was frowning.

  “I daresay not. However, I would like to meet her, if that’s all right.”

  She looked at him, then nodded. “I think she’s out in the gardens. She likes to sit and look at the flowers.” However, she didn’t move. So, Elijah waited for her to explain. She exhaled, then raised her eyes to meet his gaze. “Will you promise me something?”

  “Of course. Anything.”

  “Please don’t bring up her accident. It will upset her.”

  “On my honor, I shall not.”

  Diana nodded, and then they both stood up. He offered her his arm, and she placed her small hand on it. He covered her hand in his, feeling proud that she was courting him. Together, with Diana’s lady’s maid following them, they walked along the quiet, dim corridors of Lutterhall Manor.

  * * *

  Diana was nervous to introduce her sister to Elijah. However, she saw the necessity of it. If they were to marry, then he should know Eleonora, and her infirmities, and what to expect. There might come a time when their father was not around to provide for Eleonora, leaving her in their care.

  Diana hoped that Elijah could help her find Eleonora’s gentleman. If they were to marry, then they would have to know how to work together.

  She led him out to the gardens, where Eleonora was seated in a chair, facing the flowers. Sarah stood beside her, talking to her in a soft voice. The gardens at Lutterhall Manor were a vast network of expertly trimmed shrubbery, a profusion of flowers of all kinds, fruit trees, and one large, ancient oak, which stood in the middle.

  Diana’s sister liked to have a chair brought out for her, so she could sit on the little terrace that looked out over the gardens. It was summer, and everything was in full bloom. The scent of flowers was sweet, lingering on the air.

  Diana was nervous. Since her accident, Eleonora had seen very few visitors. Only Lady Albany, whose calm demeanor Eleonora found soothing. Ever since the accident, no one could say how she would react.

  When she heard their footsteps on the flagstones, Eleonora turned, smiling when she saw Diana. In this light, her eyes shone. She almost looked well, her cheeks were rosy, and her short hair was arranged to hide her scar.

  When Eleonora saw Elijah beside her, her face clouded over. Diana’s pulse raced as she wondered why her sister frowned so. She figured that it was because he was new. She had never seen him before.

  “Eleonora, dear,” Diana said, smiling. “I want you to meet the gentleman who I am courting.” She turned to Elijah, and she felt proud of him. “This is Elijah Saunders, the Viscount of Cambolton.”

  “My Lady,” Elijah said, bowing to her. “It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance.”

  Eleonora frowned at him, tilting her head to the side curiously. “It has been a long time since I saw you last, My Lord.”

  “Did we meet, when we were children?” he asked.

  “No, My Lord,” she replied. “Surely, it was much more recent than that, though my memory is not as it once was.”

  “I have been up North, for most of the past decade,” he replied. “Ever since my childhood, and yours as well.” He spoke to her as he spoke to anyone else, something that Diana approved of. Yet something was off. Something that she couldn’t put her finger on. Alarm bells were going off inside of her.

  “No, you couldn’t have been.” Eleonora shook her head. She was smiling a little, in confusion. “We knew each other well, did we not?”

  “I don’t believe that we’ve met before, My Lady.”

  “We have.” Eleonora blinked, tilting her head to the side. “Though, I…I don’t recall where.”

  Diana was suddenly on her guard. Eleonora’s eyes were tearing up. She glanced at Sarah, who clearly saw that things were spiraling.

  “My Lady,” Sarah said, placing a reassuring hand on her mistress�
��s arm.

  “He’s lying.” Eleonora’s tone had gone ice-cold. The change was sudden and visible. Her angelic face turned livid. She sat in her chair, glaring at Elijah. “He’s a liar.”

  Diana looked at Elijah, unsure of what to think. Elijah himself had gone pale. He seemed not to know what to say. He looked confused.

  “I know him,” Eleonora was chanting. “I know him. I know him, but Sarah! I remember not where from.” Tears were coursing down her cheeks. She was devastated. A sob emanated from her lips, and she covered her mouth with her hand.

 

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