“I believe it came from outside.” Darius strode to the window that faced the back gardens. The window sash was up and he leaned over the sill. Meredith joined him, her shoulder touching his as they stared out at the house behind Darius’s.
Through the distant windows of the other house, they could see a woman lying in bed as she screamed at someone that they could not see. When the woman had argued with her husband previously, Meredith could not make out the words. But now the woman shouted loud enough to carry in the still night air.
“You think to replace me?”
Another crash. A vase hit the wall by the woman’s head and shattered.
Meredith sucked in a breath and drew closer to Darius who put an arm around her as though wishing to shield her from the ugliness of what they were witnessing.
The woman’s husband came to view as he stopped past the window. “You’ll regret this, Minerva!” Then he stormed out of the room.
Minerva got out of bed, wrapped herself in a shawl and hobbled over to an invalid chair, and once she was seated, she rolled after her husband, disappearing from sight.
“They fight quite a lot,” Meredith told Darius quietly. “It’s such a shame.”
“That’s Louis Crell and his wife, Minerva. I barely know them. I believe Minerva was a rich heiress, and she married Louis for love. But it seems that that love has soured.”
“I met Mrs. Crell in the gardens today. We spoke through that small heart-shaped hole in the garden walls. She seemed very lonely. I hope you don’t mind that I invited her to tea when she feels up to it.”
“That’s very kind of you. She is most welcome here. It has been a while since I have seen her.”
“She seems to be ill. She was in an invalid chair,” Meredith added.
“Yes, she is. I remember hearing she was unwell several years ago.” He cleared his throat.
“Darius…” she hesitated a moment. “I am a little worried about her. She mentioned she was clumsy and that she had bruises…and now that I’ve seen them fighting…you don’t believe he’s hurt her, do you?”
Darius’s eyes narrowed. “If he has…it is hard to convict a man of that crime unless she’s terribly injured. It’s a failing in our laws to be sure, but short of murder, a man can beat his wife for almost any reason.” He scowled. “We will watch her, and if I see him touch her, I will intervene, regardless of the law.”
At Darius’s promise, she relaxed somewhat. At least they agreed on the right course of action, that someone like Darius who had power and influence, should intervene if abuse was indeed present in the Crell household.
“We should go or we’ll be late to Lady Hazlitt’s ball.”
Meredith allowed him to put her shawl about her shoulders. Then she slid her gloves on before they went down to meet the coach. Once inside, the coach started to move when Darius put a hand to his thighs and cursed before he called for the driver to halt.
“I forgot my blasted cane. I believe I shall need it tonight.” He leapt out of the coach, leaving her alone as he hastened back toward the house. “I will be back in a moment.”
Meredith toyed with the tasseled ends of her silk shawl while she waited. Just then, sharp screams cut through the night, and Meredith lurched toward the carriage window, peering out to see what had happened. The alley next to the mews which stabled Darius’s horses and carriage was lit by only a thin strip of moonlight.
She glimpsed a figure thrashing about in the shadows. No…it was two figures…and they were fighting. There was a flash of a blade in the moonlight before it vanished. Meredith flung the coach door open and scrambled down.
“Miss?” Leigh Johnson, one of Darius’s footmen, hopped from his perch on the coach to assist her. She pushed him away as she peered into the alley again. The figures she glimpsed were gone.
“Leigh, would you run down into the alley and see if anyone is hurt? I thought I saw two people fighting.”
“I heard the scream as well. I shall have a look, miss.” The footman trotted down the alley, vanishing briefly before he emerged from the shadows and returned to her.
“I’m sorry, Miss Montague, but no one was there.”
“That mew does belong to His Grace, doesn’t it?” She was certain it was, but wanted confirmation.
“Yes, miss, but the Crells share it with him sometimes. I believe they pay a small fee to stable their horses there, but they don’t own a coach.”
“The Crells, you’re sure?”
“Yes, miss,” Leigh replied. “Are you well? You’ve turned quite pale, miss.” The footman took her hand to steady her. She felt ill hearing that scream echo in her head.
“I swore I saw two people fighting.” She closed her eyes, trying to recall what she’d seen. A tall figure grappling with a shorter figure. The taller one had a blade, most certainly. And that scream, high-pitched, full of terror, and cut off so quickly.
