The Wedding Pact (Marriage by Fairytale Book 3)

by Ruth Ann Nordin

  Thunder boomed from outside, and she glanced at the window. It was already dark out. The clouds had been hovering above them all morning, but it hadn’t started raining until early that evening. The rain had steadily grown stronger. It was only now that she’d heard thunder.

  “Does thunder scare you?” Julian asked as he scanned the parchment.

  “Not anymore. It used to when I was a child, but when I pretended the thunder was someone playing the drums, it no longer bothered me.”

  In fact, every time there was a storm, she recalled that picture the maid had showed her of different instruments. She’d pointed to the drum and said thunder sounded like someone banging a drum. The maid had taken her to the kitchen and allowed her to bang on some pots and pans to hear how loud they clanged together. After that, Ophelia hadn’t been afraid of thunderstorms.

  “I hadn’t thought about it, but thunder does sound like drums.” Julian put the parchment in front of her. “They look good, but you do understand that you don’t need to show me every piece of parchment you write on. I trust you to do the work.”

  “I know, but I like knowing I’m writing the letters correctly.”

  “In that case,” he kissed her cheek, “you’re doing an excellent job. I have no trouble telling those are R’s.”

  She yawned.

  “Are you ready for bed?” he asked.

  “I want to work on the next letter before I go to bed.”

  “All right, but we should stop after that. It’s getting late.” He dipped his quill into the inkwell and took out a new piece of parchment. “The next letter is an S.” He proceeded to show her how to write the upper and lower case form of the word, using both print and cursive as he did so. “What you do think?”

  She grimaced. “I like the R better.”

  He chuckled. “The S isn’t as easy as most of the letters, but it’s used a lot. We’ll go to bed after this, and tomorrow when we start on the T’s, you’ll be relieved.”

  “I will?”

  “T is easier than the S.”

  With a nod, she picked up her own quill and began imitating the ways he’d modeled the letter. She had to ask him to show her how to do the uppercase cursive S twice before she got the hang of it. When she was done, she said, “I’ll probably have to refresh my memory on the S tomorrow.”

  “It’s a good idea to refresh your memory on every letter. The only way to get proficient at reading and writing is by doing it over and over.”

  She set the parchment and quill down on the desk. She yawned again, and as she did so, she realized she was more tired than she’d thought. “Are you coming to bed?”

  “I will in a moment,” he said as he wrote something down in his notes. “I want to finish up my thought first.”

  “All right.”

  She stood up and stretched. Then she headed for the bedroom. As she passed the window, a flash of lightning lit up the sky. She glanced outside and gasped. Between two of the trees in front of the cottage, she thought she saw the silhouette of a man wearing a hat and long coat. Her feet stilled, and the hairs on the back of her neck stood on end.

  It had to be her imagination. She didn’t really see someone out there.

  Did she?

  Thunder rumbled, and she jumped.

  “I thought the thunder didn’t scare you,” Julian teased from where he was still seated.

  She backed away from the window and waited. If someone was out there to see Julian, he’d knock. Wouldn’t he? Julian had said that someone from his parish occasionally came out late at night because of an emergency. But if someone had come to see him, they would have knocked on the door by now. Wouldn’t they?

  Julian tucked his notes into the Bible and closed it. Eyebrows furrowed, he studied her. “Are you all right?”

  She turned to him, and finally finding her voice, she said, “I thought I saw someone out there.” She gestured to the window.

  He crossed the room and went to the door. Before she could call out for him to stop, he opened it. She held her breath and waited. Was something bad going to happen to him?

  He peered outside. “Hello? Is someone there?”

  Lightning flashed across the sky again, and this time, she didn’t see anyone. She only saw the trees.

  Julian shut the door and shook the rain off of himself. “No one’s out there.”

  Yes, she had seen that. She must have worked too hard this evening. Her exhaustion was catching up to her. She was imagining things that weren’t there. Even as she tried to tell herself this, she felt a shiver of dread crawl up her spine. It wasn’t unlike the way she’d felt at the theatre when she’d thought someone was watching her.

  “Will you secure the door so no one can get in here?” she asked.

  Julian shot her a puzzled look. “You want me to block the door?”

  She nodded. “Do you mind?” There was no lock on it. The only way to prevent someone from coming in was to put up a physical barrier.

  Julian shook his head. “No, I don’t mind.” He picked up one of the chairs and lodged the back of it under the doorknob. “I know it doesn’t look like much, but it’ll work.” He went to the window and drew the curtains closed. “Is that better?”

  Not really, but what else could he do? He’d already called out to whoever was out there, and he’d blocked the door so no one could come in. What would really make her feel better was morning. Then she could look outside and see exactly what was going on. It was possible her imagination had gotten away from her, but, deep down, she doubted it. She wasn’t the type to give into fanciful imaginings.

  At least no one was going to get in, and she had Julian here with her. Thank goodness he no longer slept out in the sitting room. She’d hate to spend the night alone in the bed.

  “I’m ready to go to bed,” she finally said, deciding not to answer his question.

  She turned and went to the bedroom. The window was already covered in here, saving her the dread of having to look outside and see what was going on. She’d rather not know. She’d rather go to sleep, wake up, and find that everything was fine out there.

  She hurried to change into her chemise then went to the bed. She brought the covers up to her chin and waited for Julian to join her. Fortunately, he didn’t take much longer to come into the room, though she noticed he left the candle lit in the sitting room.

  Before she could ask him about it, he said, “In case someone is out there, he’ll assume we’re awake.”

  That was a good idea. She hadn’t thought of that. She waited until he joined her in bed then she snuggled up to him. Just being in his arms helped her feel much better. Hopefully, tomorrow would be quick in coming. She released her breath and continued listening to the thunderstorm raging outside until she couldn’t keep her eyes open anymore. At some point, she drifted off to sleep, and when she woke up the next morning, she was relieved to see no one was outside.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Julian chose not to tell Ophelia he caught muddy footprints on the ground around the trees in front of the cottage. He tracked the footprints for a considerable distance before he found horse tracks. He had hoped Ophelia hadn’t seen anyone last night, but it turned out she had. Until he knew more about who had been out here in the middle of the night or what the person wanted, he didn’t see any point in worrying her.

  So when he returned to the cottage, he acted as if nothing was amiss. He did, however, put bullets in his gun and then hid the gun in a place that would be easy to get to if he needed it. He did all of this while she was making breakfast, and he was careful to hide his actions from her. He couldn’t imagine who would want to watch them. To his recollection, he had no enemies other than his brothers. Jonah couldn’t do anything at this point. James was still alive, of course; however, he wouldn’t do more than warn Julian to stay away from him.

  For the life of him, Julian couldn’t imagine who might want to keep an eye on him and Ophelia. But he would be diligent.

  D
uring breakfast, he kept an upbeat tone in hopes Ophelia would forget about the previous night, and since she didn’t mention it, he assumed she had. After they ate, they worked on more letters.

  It wasn’t until around noon that a knock came at the door. Ophelia jerked, and Julian thought of his gun. But when he got up to look out the window, he saw a lad, who had to be about fourteen, at the front door.

  “It’s just a messenger,” he told Ophelia.

  Noting the way she relaxed, he opened the door.

  “Are you Mr. Roskin?” the lad asked.

  “Yes,” he replied.

  The lad held out the neatly folded missive to him. “This is for you.”

  After he paid the lad, he shut the door and went to the window to watch the lad ride off on his horse.

  “Who was it?” Ophelia asked.

  “Just a messenger from London,” he replied.

  The lad went in a different direction than the horse’s tracks he’d found earlier that morning had gone. He knew it wasn’t likely the lad would be the one who’d been watching them the previous night, but he still felt better seeing the lad take a different route to London.

  He turned from the window and looked at the familiar script on the envelope. His family’s footman had written to him. His gut clenched. What were the chances that the footman had written him good news?

  Not good.

  Ophelia stood up. “Is something wrong?”

  “Most likely,” he replied.

  Bracing himself, he opened the missive. He had to read through it twice before it started to make sense. Not only had the footman written to notify him that James had died, but he’d added that he suspected foul play.

  Julian had the sinking feeling the footman was right. What were the chances his brothers would both die in the prime of their lives and so close together? He thought back to how Jonah had died. Jonah had taken ill suddenly. He’d been vomiting and had severe headaches. James, on the other hand, had taken a tumble down the stairs in the middle of the night and was found dead moments later when the footman and butler went to see what had caused the noise.

  On the surface, there was nothing to suspect anyone of murder, but with the deaths happening in less than a month of each other, one couldn’t help but do so. The footman had added that he was going to hire the services of a detective. At the end of the missive, he wrote, Be careful, Your Grace. If someone came after your brothers, they might be after you, too.

  Julian’s blood ran cold. Maybe that was why someone had been standing outside the cottage last night. Maybe someone was going after everyone in his family, including him. But why? What motive could anyone have to kill Jonah and James, and maybe even him? He might have stolen money, but he hadn’t done anything deserving of death. Jonah and James definitely hadn’t done anything to deserve death.

  Something about this whole thing didn’t feel right.

  “What is it?” Ophelia asked, leaning toward him and peering down at the missive.

  For once, he was glad she couldn’t read. “My brother’s dead. My other one,” he hurried to clarify. “James.” Never mind the details. She didn’t need to know everything. It was bad enough he did. “After church tomorrow, we’ll have to return to London. This time, we’ll be staying at my family’s townhouse.”

  He let out a long sigh. There was so much to do now that he had the title, and that didn’t even include having to find out if Jonah and James had been murdered. He rubbed his eyes. He hoped that the detective would find that no one had murdered his brothers, but he had a feeling of dread in the pit of his stomach that told him otherwise. And he was sure it was connected to the man Ophelia had seen last night.

  Feeling as if the weight of the world was resting on his shoulders, he put his arms around Ophelia and drew her close to him, taking comfort in having her with him.

  ***

  Though Ophelia didn’t mention it to Julian, a part of her felt safer in London than she felt at the cottage. Although she hadn’t seen anyone outside the cottage after the thunderstorm, it still spooked her. Seeing the person could have been her imagination. She tried hard to convince herself that was the case, but something in the back of her mind kept screaming at her that it had been real. So, despite the grim situation that brought her and Julian to London, she welcomed it.

  Instead of going to Lewis and Marcy’s townhouse, they went to the one Julian had grown up in. The footman opened the door and welcomed both of them with a warm hug. Though he had tears in his eyes, he smiled and said, “It’s good to see you again.”

  She didn’t have many memories of her father. All she really remembered was a gentle man who laughed and swung her around. She imagined he would be a lot like this footman if he had lived. Kind and gentle.

  “It sounds like we have a lot to discuss,” Julian told the footman.

  He nodded. “Yes. I’m glad you came when you did. The detective will be coming by in two hours. I was hoping you’d be here for that.”

  Detective? Ophelia frowned. What was this about a detective? She couldn’t recall Julian mentioning one.

  Julian glanced her way before turning his attention back to the footman. “My wife and I should go upstairs and get settled in. Then I’ll come back down here to deal with things. Is my old bedchamber available?”

  “Yes, Your Grace,” the footman replied. “After you came here a month ago, we made sure your room was ready in case you needed it.”

  The butler came into the entryway. “Shall I take that valise up for you?” he asked Julian.

  Julian handed him the valise he’d been holding. “There’s also a trunk in the carriage.”

  The butler accepted the valise and said, “I’ll bring the trunk up after I take this to your bedchamber.”

  Julian put his hand on Ophelia’s elbow and escorted her up the stairs. These steps seemed darker than the ones in Lewis and Marcy’s townhouse. She couldn’t tell if that was due to the overcast sky that allowed less light into the townhouse, if it was the heavy atmosphere that seemed to hover over the place, or if the wood that made up the staircase was a darker color.

  “Will you and your wife require two bedchambers?” the butler asked from behind them once they reached the top of the stairs.

  Julian turned back to him. “We’ll take the same bedchamber.”

  Good. Ophelia didn’t want to sleep in a separate bedchamber. Not only had she gotten used to being with Julian at night, but the townhouse was beginning to spook her. There was definitely a somber mood hovering over everything like an invisible blanket. Perhaps she wasn’t going to feel safer here than she had at the cottage. But she was safer. She had to be. There was no one watching her and Julian through one of the windows.

  The butler led Julian and Ophelia to the bedchamber and set the valise on the dresser. “I’ll return with the trunk.”

  Julian waited until the butler left before he turned his attention to Ophelia. “I didn’t mention anything about the detective because I didn’t want to worry you.”

  “What would worry me?”

  Julian paused for a long moment, and she could see him working out different ways to explain the situation to her in his mind. Finally, he said, “I need to find out more before I can tell you.”

  Again, she frowned. Was that supposed to make her feel better?

  He closed the distance between them and brought her into his arms. Relieved for the comfort of his touch, she rested her head on his shoulder and wrapped her arms around his waist.

  “It’s going to be all right,” he whispered.

  She was sure this was meant to make her feel better, but it only made the knot in her stomach tighten.

  The butler returned with the trunk. “Would you like me to unpack these things for you, Your Grace?”

  “No, we’ll do it ourselves,” Julian replied. “We’ll be down in a few minutes.”

  The butler nodded, put the trunk on the floor, and then left, closing the door behind him.

 
With a sigh, Julian rubbed her back. “I don’t even know what’s going on, but I assure you that I will get to the bottom of it. In the meantime, you should make yourself comfortable while I handle the details of James’ funeral.”

  She lifted her head so she could make eye contact with him. “How long will we be in London this time?”

  “I’m not sure. That’s why I told everyone at yesterday’s church service that I would be taking a leave of absence while I tended to my brother’s funeral.” He gave her a soft, lingering kiss and then released her. “We should put our things away. Then I’ll take you to the den and make sure you’re comfortable. You can practice your writing in there. I’ll go to the drawing room and start the arrangements for James’ funeral.”

  The last thing she wanted was to be alone in a room. “Why can’t I go to the drawing room with you?” she asked as he went to the valise.

  “James’ body is in there. I don’t wish to upset your sensibilities by you having to see it.”

  Oh. She supposed that was a good reason. She didn’t want to see a dead body, either. Just knowing it was in the house made her feel even more apprehensive than she’d been before.

  “If you’d like, you could take a walk,” he suggested. “Marcy might not mind it if you paid her a visit. Their townhouse isn’t far from here. Do you remember the way?”

  “Yes, I remember how to get there from here.”

  She went to one of the windows and peered out of it. From this angle, she could just make out the streets she’d need to go down to get there. There were a lot of people outside. Even with the clouds out, it seemed much more appealing than being stuck alone in a room in this place.

  “All right,” she said. “I’ll visit Marcy and Lewis. Will you come and get me when you’re done in the drawing room?”

  “It’s going to be a while. I have to wait for the detective. He’s not due by for another hour and fifty minutes. I have no idea how long he’ll stay here.” He thought for a moment then added, “But yes, I’ll go to their townhouse as soon as I can.”