The innkeeper raised one eyebrow, chuckling when Daniel sighed and pulled out a few coins.
“Very good, my lord,” he grinned, pocketing the lot. “Here’s the key. I won’t say nothing.”
Daniel took the solid key in his hand and looked down at it for a moment, his breathing already quickening.
“Thank you,” he said, firmly. “I’ll be sure to return it.”
The innkeeper shrugged, turning away from him. “Just leave it in the lock. The less I see of you the better.”
At least we agree about that, Daniel thought, as he turned back to the staircase, making sure to ignore Lord Hudson, who was now leaning against the wall by the front door. He did not want to look at his friend for fear that his resolve would die out, the heaviness in his heart growing all the more as he climbed each step.
This was not what he’d thought he would feel like, knowing that Lord Northcliffe was only a few meters away. Daniel had believed he would be exuberant, filled with energy and a deep focus but, instead, his heart was heavy with a growing weight of guilt and shame.
Christina came to his mind, her eyes sparkling with tears as she looked at him, and Daniel was forced to catch his breath, leaning on the rail. It was as though she was right there with him, urging him not to do what he intended.
“I have to,” he muttered out loud, as though speaking to her, and he forced one foot in front of the other. “I have to do this. It’s the only way.”
Locating the last door on the left, Daniel paused for a moment to steady his breath, closing his eyes tightly. Slowly putting the key in the lock in an attempt to make as little noise as possible, he turned it carefully, wincing as it squeaked.
Then, with as much strength as he could, he flung the door open and stormed inside, one hand pulling the pistol from his belt.
“Northcliffe!” he shouted, as the man jumped from his chair, scrambling backward in shock. “You’re not going to be able to escape this time.”
There was nothing but fear and resentment in Lord Northcliffe’s eyes. Gone was the mocking smile, the confident gaze, the grin of delight over Daniel’s upset. Instead, the man appeared weak, thin, and afraid.
It bolstered Daniel’s courage.
Smirking, Daniel closed the door behind him and leaned against it for a moment. Lord Northcliffe’s eyes darted about the room.
“There’s no escape, I’m afraid,” Daniel said slowly, spotting the window and knowing that the man wouldn’t jump to the ground for fear of death. “You’re not going anywhere, Northcliffe. Not to Scotland, like you’d planned.”
Lord Northcliffe’s lip curled.
“That wife of yours was never meant to survive,” he grated, a flicker of determination coming back into his gaze. “I thought I’d shot her.”
“You didn’t,” Daniel replied, calmly, waving his pistol at Lord Northcliffe. “She is very much alive and told me everything. She’s the witness to your confession, Lord Northcliffe. There’s nothing left for you now.”
Lord Northcliffe eyes glittered. “And so you’ve come to kill me, is that it?”
Daniel shrugged. “Perhaps.” It wasn’t what he’d been intending to say, but then again, he’d not been quite certain how he’d react when faced with this man again.
“Then do it,” Lord Northcliffe replied, sitting down on the bed and looking directly at Daniel, challenging him. “It’s the easiest way out of all this, after all. I have nothing to live for any longer.”
His words struck hard against Daniel’s mind, like hammer blows that thundered in his head. By doing this, by taking Lord Northcliffe’s life in a quiet inn with no one about, it was the easiest way for Northcliffe to receive what was due him. No one would ever know. He could be free of Northcliffe, free of his past. And yet…
Suddenly, his determination to shoot the man faltered. Christina’s words came back to his mind, burning a path into his heart. She believed he wasn’t this kind of man, not the kind of man who became a murderer out of nothing more than vengeance. And yet, here he stood with a pistol in his hand, determined to do just that.
Daniel found himself growing desperate to prove to Christina that he could be the man she wanted him to be. That he could be trusted, even when faced with the opportunity to kill the man who’d caused him so much pain.
“I want to kill you,” he said slowly, still keeping his pistol steady. “You deserve to die. But this is too easy for you, Northcliffe. The world deserves to know the truth about Laura. That is one way I can bring her and her family justice.”
Lord Northcliffe’s expression twisted, grew ugly. “You’re weak,” he spat, getting to his feet. “You’ve always been weak. Too weak to do what you’d planned, to do what you want instead of listening to that stupid lady you call a wife. It’s her that makes you this way.”
It was as though, instead of tormenting him all the more, Lord Northcliffe’s words revealed a strange truth to Daniel. It was not that Christina made him weak but rather that she was giving him the strength not to do what he’d come here to do. Her voice, her smile, the light in her eyes all came back to him, flooding his memory. The look on her face as she’d told him she was leaving tore at his mind, and he knew that right here, in this little room, was the moment he had to make a decision that would change the course of the rest of his life.
He could exact his revenge on Lord Northcliffe, just as he’d intended, and leave him dead at his feet. That would mean a continued estrangement from Christina, very little chance to give expression to his growing feelings for her and, most likely, a lifetime spent alone, in the darkness that had become familiar.
If he did not kill Lord Northcliffe, then his future would look very different. Christina would have no cause to doubt him, would come back to live with him as she should and he would have nothing to fear from any authorities. Lord Northcliffe would be subsequently dealt with in the official manner which, while it could take a little longer, would give Daniel the chance to see his first love avenged in the way that was right. It would not be by his hand, but it would be his voice giving evidence, as well as that of Christina’s and Lord Hudson.
I love her. As she does me.
The voice whispered in his mind as he slowly lowered the pistol, his heart swelling with an as-yet unspoken emotion. “Northcliffe,” he said, firmly, never taking his gaze away from the man. “You’re coming with me.”
Lord Northcliffe spat, hard. “No, I’m not. Kill me now. Let this whole thing be over with. Kill me as you did Laura.”
Daniel gave a grunt of frustration.
“What do you mean, as I killed Laura? There is no one here, Northcliffe, so you may as well confess all. You know as well as I do that it was you who killed her and left her for me to find. Why lie about it now?”
Daniel, his jaw hard, leaned a little closer to the man.
“If you’re afraid of the gallows, Northcliffe, then—”
Northcliffe's eyes widened as he stared at him, and he surprised Daniel by raising his hands in front of him, as if in surrender.
“You didn’t do it.” Northcliffe said softly, to himself, it seemed, as much as Daniel.
“Didn’t do what? Kill Laura? Of course not, you fool, I—”
Their gazes met, and suddenly they both came to the realization at the same time. Despite how they hated one another and their irreparable past, they both knew at that moment that neither one of them had killed Laura Churston.
“So who did it?” Daniel said hoarsely, gripping a chair beside him as his legs suddenly grew weak. “Who else would have a wish to harm her? And why would my butler say— my God.”
Desperation flooded over him as he grasped the man’s collar, lifting him and pushing him toward the door. “We have to go — now. Lord Hudson is waiting.”
Lord Northcliffe walked down the long flight of stairs with Daniel following close behind. Outside, Hudson raised his eyebrows in astonishment as he pushed himself away from the wall.
“Hudson, I hav
e no time to explain,” he said in a rush. “Northcliffe did not kill Laura, though he did still threaten Christina’s life. I have to go. Christina is in danger.”
“But—”
“I believe Woodward is somehow involved,” he said as Hudson stood in attention with an astonished gaze at his words. Daniel pushed Lord Northcliffe toward him. “I cannot say I completely trust you, Northcliffe, so Lord Hudson will accompany you for now,” he continued, throwing a nod of appreciation toward the innkeeper who returned his gesture. “Is there a carriage of some sort?”
“I’m sure we can procure one, despite the hour,” Lord Hudson replied, still keeping a firm hold of Lord Northcliffe. “Well done, old boy. Didn’t think you had it in you.”
“Neither did I,” Daniel admitted. “It seems Christina has had more of an influence on me than she realized.” He drew a resolute breath. “This is not over yet.”
Lord Hudson threw him a glance, which Daniel only just caught in the dim light.
“I must go. I will see you in London,” he said, leaving Hudson behind and making for the stables as quickly as possible. He found his mount, yelling at a confused stable hand to saddle him — quickly. Daniel threw a leg overtop the horse, and raced out of the stables already at a gallop. He prayed Christina was, by now, safely residing with her father. He could not wait to tell her the truth, to show her that all of his trials had finally come to an end. Suddenly his future was brighter than ever before, a lightness he had not experienced in a great many years settling over him. But first, he had to ensure her safety. All should be fine, he assured himself. Woodward had no reason to do her harm — did he?
“I can let you go now, Laura,” he said softly as he rode. “You will have the justice that should always have been yours.”
Looking up at the full moon, Daniel closed his eyes for a moment and drew in a long, ragged breath. The burden he’d been carrying for so long had finally gone, rolling away from his back the moment he’d chosen not to kill Lord Northcliffe. He knew now that Northcliffe hadn’t been the killer, and yet, even though he still had to make certain Woodward was dealt with, Daniel felt his spirit lift at the fact that he had let go of the thirst for vengeance that had been a part of him for so long. He let out a breath and opened his eyes. It no longer mattered that he could not recall Laura’s face, nor the sound of her voice. She was gone to a place he could not follow, and in spite of his brokenness, in spite of his grief, he had found another to love. Christina was his everything; he had just never allowed himself to feel it before.
“I love her,” he breathed, urging his horse to travel faster. “I love my wife.” Saying the words were more freeing than anything else he could ever have imagined. Now he had to make sure he had the opportunity to tell her.
22
Christina did not sleep well that night, having had every intention of returning to her father’s home for a time before removing to her husband’s country estate, only to find that her father was no longer in London. The note had been returned to her by the butler, who informed her that the Marquess of Burrton had apparently gone to a house party in Suffolk and would not return for another sennight.
And so, Christina had no other option but to remain in her home, waiting for her husband to return or for the authorities to come to the door with the news that Daniel had been arrested for murder — despite the fact that, as he had said, he was a powerful marquess.
Her heart broke as she thought of what he intended to do, and she prayed over and over that he would find the strength to do what was right, while fully believing that he would not be able to. She had seen the anger in his eyes as he’d spoken of Lord Northcliffe, reminding her of how she’d almost been killed by the man.
And while that had been a terrifying experience, Christina did not want Daniel to throw the rest of his life away by taking another man’s life from him. While Lord Northcliffe clearly had an evil heart and venomous intentions toward Daniel, Christina could not justify her husband killing the man instead of taking him to the authorities. What Lord Northcliffe had said to her still made her rather uneasy. There was every possibility that he was trying to create distance between her and Daniel, and yet she had a nagging sense that was he being truthful — that he hadn’t been the one to kill Miss Churston. In the same breath, she refused to believe Daniel had killed her either. But who was to blame? She mulled it over in her mind, thinking about the situation.
Sighing, Christina pushed herself away from the dining table, as she had found herself only picking at her toast, the only thing she could currently stomach. Wandering to the window, she looked out at the street below, her heart growing heavier with every second that passed. Daniel and Lord Hudson had not yet returned, and it was agony not knowing where they had gone or what they were doing. Her mind filled with visions of what might have happened to her husband — fighting perhaps, ending up injured, covered in blood or, worst of all, shot and killed. Had Lord Northcliffe been waiting for them? Had he known Daniel would pursue him? Perhaps the man had organized some kind of ambush, and Daniel and Hudson would never return home at all.
A small sob escaped her. This was not what she had hoped for when she’d agreed to marry him.
“My lady?”
Turning around, Christina wiped her eyes as the butler came into the room, a small sympathetic smile on his face.
“You need not fear any longer, my lady. Lord Ravenhall has just written a note on the chance you were still at home. Here.”
Christina grasped it with trembling fingers, opening it at once.
“We are safe,” she read aloud, sinking down slowly into a seat. Christina realized it was the first time Daniel had ever written anything to her. Funny, she had thought his writing would be heavy and bold, whereas this seemed to be hurriedly scratched. He must have been in a rush. “All is well and has been dealt with accordingly. Lord Northcliffe confessed to Laura’s murder, and I have ensured that he will never bother us again. I shall return soon. I hope with all my heart that you will be waiting for me.”
She stared at the note, reading it over and over before fixing her eyes on the butler who was standing patiently, waiting for her instruction.
“When did you say this arrived?” she asked, one hand now clinging to her chair. “Just now?”
“Yes, my lady, only a few minutes ago.”
She looked at the note again, her breath coming more quickly now as the words finally registered. “Where is he?”
“The boy who delivered it said they were … taking care of things before they returned,” the butler replied, though a strange look passed over his eyes. “He has done this for you, my lady.”
A half-strangled sob left Christina’s throat as she took in what Woodward had said. Daniel had not only killed Lord Northcliffe, but he had done it in her name. How could he, knowing how she felt?
“Shall I fetch you a fresh pot of tea, my lady?” the butler asked. “To restore you, perhaps?”
Christina could hardly breathe, her chest tightening as she gave the butler a jerky nod, though what tea would do, she wasn't sure. She could not quite believe this, having been so hopeful that Daniel would turn away from murder and find another way.
“Are you quite all right?” the butler asked hesitantly, as though a little unsure as to whether or not he should leave her side.
Christina drew in a shaking breath, the corner of her lips curve into a smile she did not feel. “Yes, of course. Thank you, Woodward. Can you have the tea tray sent to my room, please? I need to freshen up.”
The butler nodded and departed, leaving Christina to make her way to her bedchamber alone. As she climbed the stairs, her steps felt heavy, as though she were walking through sand. Her words to Daniel earlier had not been an empty threat. With the cloud of murder now between them, they could never be happy together — not truly. It would only solidify his anger and hatred, and the darkness that threatened would eventually overcome him.
She would stay married to him
, of course, but they would never truly be husband and wife.
The door closed with a soft thud, and Christina leaned back against it, tears threatening. But she was almost too upset to cry. Rather, she simply felt empty. She sighed as she looked across at her bed, wishing that Daniel was returning within a different set of circumstances. She so craved that connection with him again, that physical satisfaction, and yet she didn’t know if she could ever be with him that way again.
It was not that Christina felt threatened by Daniel’s memory of another. She knew that he would always hold Laura in his heart, but she longed for him to find room for her as well. She wasn’t sure though, if he could kill a man in cold blood, whether he was capable of true love anymore.
She looked at the adjoining door that led to his bedchamber, where she had never before ventured. She knew her own love for the wretched man, even though he had been so distant. The little she had seen of him when he had been kind and caring was the sort of man she longed to be with. Was he gone forever?
Sighing, Christina turned the door handle, thinking that he had, most likely, locked it, and was surprised to discover it open. The key tinkered quietly as it fell to the floor within the room and, as Christina opened to door to find it, she was plagued with a sudden, fierce curiosity.
She had never seen his room before, having never pried and certainly never considered that she ought to go in without his permission. Now, however, when she had the opportunity to do so, and wanting to have one last connection with her husband, Christina stepped a little farther in and looked all about her.
There was not much to see. A bed, a chair, a table by the fire, and a writing desk in the corner. A door that led to his dressing room, she assumed, was on the opposite side of the room from where she stood, but there was nothing else of particular interest. She recalled that he had not been here long, and had no plans to stay for any length of time.
Wandering into the room, Christina let her fingers trail along the row of books he had stacked neatly along one of the shelves on the wall, her heart breaking at the remembrance of just how much they both enjoyed reading. It was something she had hoped they could share more of as they spent their lives together — but it was no longer to be.
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