* * *
With the rest of the day stretching out in front of him, Elijah decided to go and visit the local constable. When he arrived, the constable’s daughter showed him in to the dining room. The table was set for tea.
“I’m sorry to disturb you,” he said.
“Not at all, Lord Cambolton,” the constable replied. “Have a seat. Would you care for a cup?”
“Yes, please.”
He poured Elijah a cup of steaming hot tea. He was a tall man, with a straight posture. Elijah hadn’t spoken to him in at least four months, so rarely did he leave Cambolton estate.
“What brings you over this way, My Lord?” He viewed him with curiosity. Elijah found him to be an honest, hardworking man. He had really done his utmost to find out who had murdered his father. There were simply no clues to be found. Whoever it was had covered his tracks well.
“I noticed a coincidence, very recently,” he said. “I was wondering if you had noticed it, as well.”
“I presume you’re talking about your father’s death?”
“Yes.”
“I’m listening.” He leaned back in his chair, sipping his tea.
“It seems that the night my father was likely killed, Lady Eleonora Dunkeld had her accident, out in the woods.”
He frowned. “The same night?”
“Yes.”
“That is a very strange coincidence, indeed,” he murmured thoughtfully. “I never thought to link the two. It was never brought to my attention…that Lady Eleonora’s accident should be investigated.”
“I was speaking to Lady Diana Dunkeld, and it seems that Lady Eleonora had been out to meet with a gentleman. I think that they were together—Lady Eleonora and my father.”
“Do you have any proof? Can she describe him?”
“I’m not sure. But the first time that I met Lady Eleonora, she got upset because she recognized me,” he explained. “I do look quite a bit like him.”
“Can Lady Eleonora say for certain, though?” the constable said.
“Lady Diana says that her memories are scattered.” Elijah had suspected that this would be the one block. It didn’t seem that she was able to say for certain.
“Unfortunately, if we don’t have anything solid to go on, there’s not much I can do. I can go and question Lady Eleonora, but I don’t want to upset her. I know that she’s in a fragile state.”
“True. What if Lady Diana could question her?” Elijah asked. “The two sisters are close.”
“That would work. If she can get Lady Eleonora to confirm anything, then I can reopen my investigation.”
“Excellent.”
“The problem is that Lady Eleonora must be able to prove that she is of sound mind,” the constable went on. “And we need solid evidence that links her to your father.”
Elijah nodded. “I can find out if he gave her a gift, of some sort.”
“Or letters?” the constable suggested.
Elijah’s memory stirred. He recalled something, but he wasn’t sure what. There was something that he’d seen, but not taken into account. He wondered if there were letters, at Cambolton House.
“For my part,” he said. “I’ll look.”
“Good, good,” the constable said. “If there’s anything, let me know.” He speared him with a look. “And under no circumstances, do you approach the murderer alone, My Lord. Whoever he is, he’s violent. It chills my blood that he’s still out there.”
“Don’t worry,” Elijah promised. “I’ll let you know what I find.”
The constable stood up. “I’ll show you out, My Lord.”
Elijah was on the road back to Cambolton House a short time later. The summer sun beat down on him. Though his hat shaded his face, he was sweating as he rode. Already, he was parched. Overhead, the sky was a deep blue, with not a cloud in sight. His mind was full. It had been nearly seven months since the night in question.
Is there any evidence left to be found?
* * *
Diana was sitting in the parlor. Aunt Clarabelle sat over by the window, with her embroidery, to catch the weak breeze coming in. The Duke of Morrow sat across from her.
He was dark-haired and pale-eyed, with a strong posture. He wore a maroon frock coat, with tan breeches.
Diana was busy comparing him to Elijah, and finding His Grace utterly wanting. Her father had gone to take care of something, though Diana knew that they had been left like this on purpose.
“Tell me, Lady Diana,” he said, looking at her lasciviously. It was well-known that the Duke was a libertine. Diana was surprised that her father would choose him for her. “Do you have many suitors?”
I suppose, in a pinch, any Duke will do.
“I was courting the Viscount of Cambolton,” she replied.
“Was?” He raised an eyebrow.
“Was,” she repeated. Diana did not want to have this conversation with him. He smiled confidently, as though she had just given him an invitation.
She looked away from him. It seemed that instead of being put off, he was even more interested in her. She could feel her skin crawling as his eyes studied her a bit more closely than she would have preferred.
“Tell me, My Lady,” the Duke went on, but was cut off when the door opened and Eleonora came in.
“I heard that you were here, Your Grace.” She curtsied delicately. Had her hair not been shorn so close to her head, and that nasty scar not adorned her temple, she might have been her old self. “I wanted to be sure that you knew that I was well again.”
“Lady Eleonora.” He seemed surprised. “I haven’t seen you since last Season.”
“I believe that I was in love,” she said. “I don’t remember, though. I had a bit of a fall.”
Diana stood to go to her sister, when their father came in.
“Lady Eleonora, go back to your room,” he ordered.
“But I wanted to greet our guest,” Eleonora said. “It has been a very long while since I saw anyone at all.”
“Let her stay, Father.” Diana took her sister gently by the elbow. She seemed to be coherent, which was unusual. She thought that perhaps it was an improvement.
“No,” her father snapped. “I’ll go and get Mrs. Donovan to take her.”
Eleonora began to cry. Diana placed a hand on her sister’s back. She frowned at her father. “I’m going to help her,” she said, her heart breaking for her sister.
Once they were out in the hallway, Eleonora looked at her. “Diana, I don’t understand,” she sobbed. “I don’t understand at all.”
“Would you like it if I helped you to remember, Eleonora?” Diana whispered.
“Can you?” There was hope in her sister’s eyes.
“I think, maybe.”
Eleonora nodded. “Yes, yes. Then he’ll come for me. He’ll take me away from here.”
Diana hadn’t known that her heart could break even more. She couldn’t bear it.
What if she’s waiting for a gentleman who has died six months ago?
* * *
Diana made sure that her sister was comfortable, and then left the room. Mrs. Donovan was talking to Eleonora in a gentle voice. Diana leaned against the wall outside of the door and breathed out a sigh.
She needed to get going. She was going to be late getting to Elijah. They had been meeting every day, in the late afternoon.
She was dismayed when she heard footsteps, heading toward her. She turned to see her father. He was displeased.
“It is you whom I wanted the Duke to meet, not have some sort of display in front of His Grace.”
“I have no interest in His Grace,” she replied. “The only gentleman I could ever marry is Lord Cambolton.”
“We have already discussed this. I will not change my mind. A Viscount! You will be lowering yourself. How could I ever agree to that?”
“Then we have reached an impasse, Father.” She turned and walked away. At that moment, she didn’t care whether or not he saw her go.
For all she cared, he could follow her, find out everything.
But he didn’t. She reached the place where Mary waited with the horses without a single soul seeing. She was getting much better at sneaking out the more time that passed.
They both rode off, into the woods. Diana’s mind was on her sister. She needed a plan, to help her remember. She wasn’t quite sure how to do it.
Chapter 25
When Elijah saw Diana at the millhouse, he held her close, his eyes closed. The scent of her hair, the feel of her heart beating in her chest. He wished that he could stop time, to make this last forever.
“All we have now are stolen moments,” he murmured.
“My father has invited the Duke of Morrow to go hunting with him,” she said, her head leaning against his chest. “I don’t know if I’ll be able to come tomorrow.”
“They’ll be in the woods.” He saw the problem, and wished for anything else. He knew why the Duke of Morrow was there—Lord Lutterhall had found Elijah’s replacement.
“They might be,” she replied. “I’ll still try to come.”
“I’ll be here,” he assured her. “In case you can.”
They stood there in silence. He reached out, brushing her curls back with his finger. These few fleeting moments, to be near to her, he craved during all of the other moments throughout the day.
“I visited the constable yesterday,” he told her. “If you can find a solid link that your sister was seeing my father, then he’ll open the case. Do you think you can do it?”
She looked up at him, steadily. “Of course I can,” she said. “I’m not sure how. But I’ll figure it out.”
“You should try having her close her eyes,” he told her. “See if she can go back, using recall. I don’t know much about head injuries, but if she can at least make an attempt, then you might get her to remember something.”
“Very well.”
“Diana,” he said. “Be careful.”
“I’m always careful.”
He nodded, but he felt deeply worried for her safety. He took her hands in his.
“Diana, when my father died, that was the last of my family,” he admitted. “I was entirely alone in the world. Everyone else has died. When I met you, and you, by some miracle, agreed to court me, to marry me—I wasn’t alone anymore.”
Her brown eyes sparkled with tears.
“I don’t want to lose you,” he admitted. “The thought terrifies me.”
She held both of his hands in hers. “I will never let you go,” she promised. “I will be careful.”
Elijah looked into her eyes, leaning his forehead against hers. He meant every word—he belonged to her in a way that he had never belonged to anyone else. She was his present and his future. He would fight for her, as long as he drew breath.
* * *
When Diana arrived home, making her way back through the garden, the Duke was standing there, among the tulips. He smiled at her. She gasped, wondering just how much he had seen.
“I saw you leave,” he said, smiling smugly. “Where did you go?”
“I went for a walk.” It was her fallback story, which Mary was prepared to corroborate. Here, alone with the Duke, she was panicking.
“On horseback, with your maid?” he asked, stepping in close. Too close. She stepped back, to get away from him. He moved forward, trapping her against the back wall of the garden. Her hands touched the cool, gritty stones.
She was caught. The problem was, the Duke of Morrow was a dangerous person to be indebted to. She could tell, from the cold gleam in his eyes. He was clearly enjoying this situation.
“You’ve come to Lutterhall Manor for the hunting, Your Grace,” she told him, keeping her voice steady. “No matter what my father promises you, I can never marry you. Please, I beg you. Don’t tell my father what you have seen.”
“I think you’re wrong,” he replied, smiling coldly. “I think that we could work out something between us. I like my conquests. You like Lord Cambolton. I’m sure that we could come to…some sort of agreement.”
Diana felt a dark wave wash over her. She couldn’t imagine it. Some sort of a half-life, playing pretend. She felt exhausted and angry. She was tired of others dictating how her life was going to play out. No more.
“I don’t know what you’re implying,” she said, her mind a whirl of confusion.
He regarded her for a long moment. He nodded, stepping back. He seemed disappointed, for which she was glad.
“As you wish.” He bowed to her. “I shall leave you alone with your thoughts. I think, if you find yourself in a tight space, you might want to consider me.”
As he walked away, she felt a bright bubble of relief. He was leaving, which meant that she was free, for the moment. A dark specter of doubt rose up within her. She shook it away.
Never. I could never.
* * *
When Diana went down for dinner, her father was standing in the parlor, looking disappointed. His Grace appeared to have done what he had promised. She was glad that he was gone. The Duke of Morrow was a snake. He had made a grave mistake in his offer. She could never live as he did. Pretending to be married to one gentleman while loving another.
“Where is the Duke?” she asked.
“He’s decided to move on,” he said, turning toward her. “I’m disappointed in you.”
“Not really, though. If His Grace isn’t interested in me, then there’s certainly nothing I can do, is there?”
“Perhaps.” He sipped his drink.
Her pulse was racing. She hoped to get the answers from him. She hoped that he might have some tangible clue that they could get—perhaps, he had found Eleonora near the cottage in the woods.
“Eleonora seems to be remembering things,” she murmured. “Little bits and pieces of things.”
“The physician mentioned that she might,” he said. “Has she told you anything?” He glanced at her, blinking. He adjusted his glasses on his nose.
“When she wakes up in the middle of the night, she remembers a gentleman,” she remarked, giving him a little, in an effort to get information. “Though not his name, nor how she met him.”
“I doubt he’s a gentleman.” He shook his head in disapproval. He stared blackly out of the window. With a sigh, he turned toward the sideboard, where he poured himself brandy.
“Where did you say her accident was, Papa?” she asked, keeping her tone light.
“I found her, just beside the forest road,” he replied.
“You knew she was gone?”
“I discovered her missing,” he said. “I had suspected that she had been sneaking out for a while. That night, I went into the stables and found her horse gone. The groom had been drinking that night—didn’t see or hear anyone. So I went out searching for her. You know this.”
“Yes,” she replied. “I know.”
“Why are you asking about this?” he wondered.
“I was walking in the woods today. I just…wondered where it had happened.”
“So you could visit the spot of your own sister’s demise?” He raised an eyebrow in disapproval.
She turned toward him. “Honestly, Papa. You talk about her as though she’s dead.”
He frowned at her.
“Don’t worry. I won’t go there if you don’t want me to,” she said, though she wasn’t sure that it was a promise that she would keep. Not if it meant finding out the truth about what had happened.
“I would prefer that you didn’t. It was a horrible sight. One that I wish I could rid myself of.” He shuddered. “Your sister, lying there, her head seemingly broken open.” He looked sad, tired. “I thought I’d lost her that night. I thought, for certain that…” He trailed off, not finishing the sentence.
“She’s still here, though.”
“Not as she was.” He crossed the room, his glass in hand, ending the discussion. Aunt Clarabelle entered then, and the two of them began to discuss the sudden departure of the Duke.
Diana considered what she’d learned. She couldn’t imagine—being a parent, and coming upon one’s child, bleeding from the head in the road. It had certainly upset her father. He could barely speak of that night.
Sinfully Bound To The Enigmatic Viscount (Steamy Historical Regency Romance) Page 17