“Ah, Christina! Good morning!”
Christina paused, her hand halfway to her mouth as she held the teacup in her hand. “Lord Hudson,” she murmured, surprised to see him here so early. “What has brought you here this morning?”
“Your husband,” Lord Hudson chuckled, as Daniel walked into the room, coming toward her. “He says he has something for us all to discuss.”
Christina caught her breath as Daniel took her hand and pressed a kiss to the backs of her fingers, and she cursed her foolish heart as the now familiar heat rushed into her core.
“Good morning, Christina,” he murmured quietly, his eyes searching her face. “Are you quite well today?”
She swallowed, though her mouth had gone dry under the intensity of his gaze even as her heart broke all over again. “Yes, I am fine,” she replied, softly. And physically, she was. “Although I have been rather alone this morning, which I find I do not like.”
He caught her meaning at once, his face burning crimson as he looked away from her, releasing her hand. Clearing his throat, he gestured for Lord Hudson to take a chair before looking back at them both.
“Christina, I sent a message round to Lord Hudson in the early hours this morning, describing how Lord Northcliffe accosted you in the bookshop yesterday. This cannot be borne. We must do something about it.”
Christina glanced at Lord Hudson, who was frowning as he poured himself a coffee.
“And what do you intend to do, Ravenhall?” Lord Hudson asked, sounding a little unconvinced. “You know how I feel regarding your plans for the man. I will not be a party to murder, and neither will your wife, I think. If that is the action you wish to take, you are on your own.”
Christina’s eyes widened as she turned to look at her husband, who was shooting a rather frustrated glance toward Lord Hudson.
“I made a promise to each of you that before I undertake any rash actions, we must determine the man’s guilt. Following that … well, I have no intention of striking the man down in broad daylight, for I do not fancy the noose. However, something must be done.”
“And what is that to be?” Christina asked, raising an eyebrow. No matter what Daniel felt was necessary, she believed that if he murdered the man, his soul would only grow blacker, and there would be no chance of rescuing him from the depths of depravity. “Do you have a plan for how to ascertain his guilt?”
Christina saw Daniel clear his throat and sit up a little taller, as though he had come up with a marvelous idea.
“We will make him confess.”
Closing her eyes, disappointment crashed through Christina. That was not a plan which had any substance, not when Lord Northcliffe had been so careful not to say a word to anyone for so many years. There was no chance that Lord Northcliffe would confess a word.
“And how will you do that, Daniel?” Lord Hudson asked, refilling Christina’s cup of tea, and she accepted it gratefully as it seemed it was all she could stomach at the moment. “The man is hardly likely to say anything of importance to anyone, and the authorities will need a credible witness — or three witnesses, I should say — before they will do anything about it. Even then, it will be difficult to have anything done about the matter, though you are fortunate your father holds great power.”
Daniel shrugged. “We will need to come up with a plan,” he said. “Though I am thinking perhaps it may be best to take this into my own hands. My first idea is to slit his throat in the dead of night.”
Christina dropped her teaspoon with a clatter, breathing hard as a vision of blood splattering across Daniel’s face tore at her mind.
“He will not do anything of the sort, Christina,” Lord Hudson interrupted, calmly, frowning heavily at Daniel. “Will you, Ravenhall? But yes, you are correct to say that we do need to think of something. You have been chasing Lord Northcliffe for years, and I think if you are to have anything close to a happy future, you will need to remove him from your life for good.”
“He needs to be found guilty over Laura’s death,” Christina said, slowly, watching as her husband turned to face her. “That is the only way you can ever leave this to rest, is it not?”
Daniel nodded, though he looked somewhat contemplative, and Christina worried over whether he needed to see Lord Northcliffe guilty or whether he would need more than that. Her fears remained high that he would kill the man and spend the rest of his life consumed by his actions. “I am glad you understand, Christina.”
There was no tenderness in his voice, no gentle smile on his face or warmth in his eyes as he spoke but rather just a firm practicality that made her want to weep.
“Then what do we think we can do?” Lord Hudson asked, shooting her a sympathetic look as though he understood the difficulty she was facing with her husband. “How do we get a man so determined to remain silent on the matter of Miss Churston’s death to reveal himself to a group of witnesses? It is quite impossible.”
Daniel nodded slowly, his gaze resting on Christina for a moment before he looked away. “There are ways to make a man talk,” he said with determination. “Lord Northcliffe cannot continue to infiltrate my life, nor be allowed to intimidate Christina just because he feels as though he has the power to do so.”
Christina could not think, her mind too full of what had occurred between them last night and his return to his prior self this morning. Her head began to ache and she rubbed it ineffectually.
“I think that—” Lord Hudson was interrupted by a sudden knock at the door, which opened to reveal the butler.
“You have a note, my lord, from Mr. Stewart,” said Woodward.
Christina watched as Daniel's eyes lit up, and she wished she could invoke that same reaction in him. He was more delighted by this note than by her presence, her smile, or her touch.
“Ah, look!” he exclaimed, throwing the note to Lord Hudson. “Perhaps we do not need a plan after all. Perhaps we might be able to wheedle it out of him regardless.”
Lord Hudson raised one eyebrow. “So Mr. Stewart has supposedly managed to find Lord Northcliffe in an inebriated state in White's,” he said, calmly. “What do you intend to do, Ravenhall?”
Feeling a slight sense of dread, Christina saw her husband rise from the table at once.
“We shall go now, you and I, and you will talk to him about Laura. Drink often loosens a man’s tongue, does it not?”
“I do not think this is a good idea, Daniel,” Christina said slowly, aware of the frown that jumped onto her husband’s face at her words as he turned to face her. “You need to think things through carefully and slowly until you arrive at a plan that is sure to work.”
He shook his head impatiently. “No. Do you know how long I have been waiting for an opportunity like this? There will be a great many witnesses at White’s.”
“It is not as though one can nonchalantly bring up the name of a woman dead six years now. Even in a drunken state, he is unlikely to reveal anything, particularly to a friend of yours. And even if he should confess, and then something were to happen to him, everyone would know—”
“That is enough, Christina.” Daniel’s rebuke was edged with a quiet anger that made Christina smart as if he had struck her. She knew, with all of her rationality, he was being too quick, too hasty, but she could see by the resolve on his face that nothing she said would stop him. Instead, it would likely only fuel his determination to go against her wishes.
“Do not go out,” he ordered her, and with all of her being she only wished that he told her so out of a sense of worry over her wellbeing. “You will be fine here with Woodward. If Lord Northcliffe reveals his actions to us, it could be some time before anything is done about it.”
Christina nodded. “Thank you for your concern, Ravenhall,” she said formally, although he didn’t seem to note the sarcasm in her tone. “Do send word as to what happens. And Lady Beatrice is due to come here for afternoon tea, so I have no intention of going out today.”
She caught the spark of
interest in Lord Hudson’s eyes, and she managed a smile for him. A slight flush crept into his cheeks as he took his leave. Clearly, Beatrice had an admirer in Lord Hudson. Perhaps someone could find happiness.
“Thank you, Christina,” Daniel murmured, not moving toward her to kiss her cheek or even bid her farewell. He paused after Lord Hudson exited the room, as though he wanted to say more, but then, after a moment, he simply inclined his head and shut the door behind him.
19
Christina spent the next hour attempting to read but found her mind unwilling to concentrate on anything other than her husband. She was uneasy with just how quickly he had left the house, how he had let his emotions overcome all reason. This desire to capture Lord Northcliffe’s confession had always been there, she was sure, but for whatever reason, he had seemed almost frantic this morning. Was it because of what they had shared last night? Had the memory of Laura and her death resurfaced with such strength that he had been unable to think of anything else, nor listen to reason?
Her heart seemed to burn within her chest with pain, and she became angry with herself for feeling so much for the husband she’d never wanted in the first place. Throwing her book onto the table, she rose to her feet and began to pace up and down the library, trying desperately to get her thoughts onto something other than Daniel Harrington.
As she looked out of the window, she heard the door behind her open, and she turned around to see if a maid had appeared to take her tea tray.
To her horror, the tall, brown-haired man from the bookshop was standing in the doorway, a wide grin on his face.
“Lord Northcliffe,” she breathed, her fingers scrabbling against the window sill as she fought to lean on it heavily, her body going weak with a sharp, sudden fear.
“Good morning, Christina,” he said, calmly, closing the door behind him. “How lovely that we should be reacquainted so soon.”
“How did you get in?”
He shrugged, his eyes roving around the room as though taking it all in. “I do not think that matters, Christina, do you? Although I will say that the staff was all very busy in preparing the carriage for the sudden departure of Lord Ravenhall and Lord Hudson.”
Christina felt sick. Lord Northcliffe had entirely engineered this situation. He most certainly was not at White’s.
“That man, Mr. Stewart, talks a lot when he is drunk,” Lord Northcliffe continued, as he drew closer to her. “You cannot imagine how easy this all was.”
Her skin crawled. Making sure to keep a few chairs between herself and Lord Northcliffe, Christina moved quickly toward the side of the room where the bell pull was, hoping he didn’t notice her intentions.
“You can try to run from me, but I have every intention of using you for my own ends,” Lord Northcliffe continued, quietly, his eyes fixed on her. “Your husband ruined my life. First, he took the woman I loved, and then he destroyed my reputation, so much so that I could hardly be seen in London any longer.”
Christina stepped in front of the bell pull, keeping a large overstuffed chair between herself and Lord Northcliffe. Putting her hands behind her back, she tugged it once, twice, three times, four times, five times, while Lord Northcliffe meandered around the room, seemingly unconcerned. She had to hope that the nature of her ringing would alert the butler to the fact that something was wrong. After all, Ravenhall had mentioned to her that Woodward had been with him ever since Laura’s death.
“Your husband should arrive home soon,” he said, calmly, slowly making his way toward her. “I do so want him to see what is to become of you.”
Christina tried not to shudder, her eyes widening as she watched him pull a pistol from his waistband. It glinted menacingly in the daylight.
“You will always be hunted,” Christina replied through trembling lips, determined to keep her courage. “No matter where you go.”
Lord Northcliffe chuckled darkly. “I doubt it, my dear. I will make sure your husband is suspected of your death, and his accusations against me will come to nothing. He will look the fool. There will be no one with any reason to chase me. And, if something goes wrong, well, I have a remote place in Scotland where no one will find me.”
For a moment, Christina wondered why the man was telling her all this, only to realize that he did not care for he intended to kill her before she could say a word. A cold sheen of sweat broke out over her brow, and she clung to the back of the chair, her eyes flicking wildly around the room as she desperately sought a way to escape him.
“Lord Ravenhall does not deserve to be happy,” Lord Northcliffe continued, as Christina’s mind struggled to come up with any kind of solution. “He took Laura away from me, and so I have decided he is to live alone, without hope, for the rest of his days, as I have.”
“Why did you do it?” Christina asked, desperately, trying to keep him talking, to allow enough time for Daniel to arrive.
“Do what?” he asked, arching an eyebrow.
“K-kill her,” she choked out. “If you loved her so much, why couldn’t you simply allow her to be happy?”
“Oh, Lady Ravenhall,” Northcliffe chuckled in such a sinister way that chills fell down Christina’s spine. “Is that what he has told you, what he has made you believe?”
Goose flesh rose on her arms as he stared at her and shook his head as if in sympathy.
“I never killed Laura Churston,” he said with enough sorrow that Christina nearly believed him. “No, Laura had gone to Ravenhall’s home to tell him how she truly felt — that she still loved me. We were to run off together, to find our way to Scotland and elope. Her father much preferred that she marry the son of a duke, but we were in love. She clearly told Ravenhall and he killed her for it. Apparently, if he couldn’t have her, then neither could I.”
Christina could barely process his words. No. She shook her head as she stared at him, her body growing cold and freezing in place at the smug smile of satisfaction that clung to his lips.
“I don’t believe you,” she whispered, but even she could hear the lack of conviction in her words.
“Come, my dear Christina, are you not aware of your husband’s actions? He won’t hesitate to take a life if necessary. He had no qualms with Miss Churston. Now we will see how he feels to have his wife taken from him.”
Out of the corner of her eye, Christina saw the door handle turn very slowly, and relief washed through her. Perhaps her frantic bell pulling had done what she’d intended.
Hoping to draw his attention, Christina gave a harsh laugh, seeing Lord Northcliffe stare at her as though she’d gone mad.
“Do you truly believe that I make Lord Ravenhall happy?” she asked in a loud voice, gesturing wildly to keep his attention focused solely on her. “It was an arrangement, nothing more. We are not even friends, Lord Northcliffe. Truly, to kill me would be to end what has been nothing more than a nightmare.”
Lord Northcliffe lifted one eyebrow, his eyes still fixed on her. “Is that so?” he murmured, as the door opened a little more. “Regardless of that, Lady Ravenhall, I’m afraid that I will still put my plan into action. Ravenhall deserves to spend the rest of his days alone.”
Christina saw the door fly open at that, and Daniel stepped inside with Lord Hudson remaining by the door. Lord Northcliffe threw himself up from his chair. Stretching his arm out, he grabbed Christina and ground the pistol into her temple. Her heart began to pound wildly, and she struggled to breathe. Black spots seemed to cloud her vision as she saw her life hanging in the balance.
“Move and I’ll shoot her,” Lord Northcliffe said, slowly. “You’re a little earlier than I expected, Ravenhall — and you brought Hudson with you. How wonderful.”
“Put the pistol down,” Daniel grated, his eyes fixed on Lord Northcliffe, even though Christina was desperate for him to look at her.
Lord Northcliffe chuckled, shaking his head. “So it appears I shall have to go on the run after all,” he murmured, his gaze settling on Christina. “I am sure yo
u will understand, my dear, for I cannot remain in London with two bodies by my feet, although I fully intend to leave your husband alive, to know what it is like to live alone as I do. Unfortunately, I only have two pistols, so Lord Ravenhall and I will have to fight it out to the death with our swords, unless he is too overcome by the death of his wife and his friend which, I hope, will play out to my advantage.”
Christina struggled to breathe, her whole body shaking terribly as she continued to look down the barrel of the gun. One shot. One shot that would end her life and bring about the start of Daniel’s destruction. She did not think that he could cope should Lord Northcliffe continue to haunt him. For he must be lying — Daniel couldn’t have killed Miss Churston … could he have?
Slowly, her gaze traveled back toward Daniel, and Christina found herself aching for all of the space between them. She didn’t know what to believe of him. Perhaps, had she been truly honest with him, had she bared her soul and trusted him, he might have returned some feeling toward her. For despite Lord Northcliffe’s words, despite what she knew of Daniel’s past actions, as she looked at the despair that had come over his face, she realized that he could never have hurt an innocent woman, no matter what she had done to him.
Finally, he looked back at her, his gaze remaining steady although his eyes held a hint of fear.
“Daniel,” she called out. “This isn’t your fault. And … and this isn’t a nightmare, you know that. There is more between us that I only wish we had the opportunity to explore.”
A tear leaked from her eye, but she continued to watch Daniel, holding onto his gaze as it was the only thing that mattered.
“You don’t deserve any of this,” she heard Lord Northcliffe say, his voice now thin and filled with rage. “You took away my love from me, and now it will bring me the greatest of pleasures to do the same to you.”
As his attention moved toward Daniel, the pistol moved a fraction of an inch away from her temple, and Christina took the moment of opportunity to do the only thing she could think of.
Searching Hearts Box Set: Books 1-5 Page 71