Her stomach lurched, her lungs constricting.
So this was the final proof, was it not? What had Fox said?
I loved her with all my heart. I willneverstop loving her.
Leah took in a long, stuttering breath, her brain attempting to slot pieces of the puzzle into place.
Something hurtful had happened to dissolve Fox’s relationship with Honoria Hampstead. Last night, he had admitted to kissing Honoria, so there had been affection between them at some point. But after inheriting her brother’s wealth, the lady had betrayed Fox.
Leah should have asked him more about Honoria last night, but his wandering lips had utterly distracted her. Drat her husband’s allure; it addled her wits.
Regardless, Fox had become involved with Susan.
Leah knew her husband well enough by now to trust that he hadn’t betrayed either woman. He would not have been betrothed to Honoria while carrying on with Susan, or vice versa. Fox Carnegie was not a perfect man, but he was honorable.
Clearly, something had happened. Or, more likely, a series of somethings.
Something that made lay his brokenness at Honoria Hampstead’s feet.
Something that resulted in Susan’s loss and Fox’s grief.
Something that drove Fox into semi-hiding, terrified to lose custody of his child.
But lose custody to whom? Susan’s brother, who had given his permission for the marriage? And if so, why would a child’s uncle have more clout than her father?
Did any of this connect to Fox’s correspondence with the Archbishop of Canterbury?
Leah flipped to the next letter—Susan’s again—taking a step toward the window and angling the foolscap in order to better see the faded handwriting.
My darling,
Can you believe that, after tomorrow, I will call you husband? That I will sleep at your side and wrap you in my arms and accept your worries and fears onto my shoulders?
The ink was washed out in places, making the words difficult to read. Leah shifted closer to the light, her mind lost in Susan’s words, in the love radiating from the page. The same love Leah saw in Madeline’s carefully stitched baby clothing, in Fox’s handkerchiefs.
I keep trying to sleep, but instead, I find myself here at this desk at 3am, my candle burning low and shuddering in a pool of molten wax as I set words to page in an attempt to feel close to you—
Frowning, Leah leaned into the window, shuffling half a step backwards, struggling to discern the next sentence. Did it begin with,You must know—
Her skirts brushed against something behind her.
A loud crash sounded.
Leah shrieked and nearly jumped out of her skin.
A cascade of items toppled to her feet.
She pressed the foolscap to her sternum, fingers shaking, heart pounding like cannon fire.
Drat her full skirts.
They had brushed against the haphazardly stacked boxes and trunks, sending books and other odds and ends cascading.
She looked down and screamed again.
A leg lay on the floor.
Ahumanleg, bare and flesh-colored.
