“No,” she asserted. “I most certainlymustmake amends. I ought never to have hidden you from Jasper—regardless of the reason. Even should our marriage not come to pass, he deserves the truth. And you deserve to be treated with respect. I am so sorry, Thomas, that I dishonoured you in such a way.”
Thomas leaned forward and pressed a quick kiss to her forehead. “All is for—grunt—given, Maria.”
She smiled up at him and stood, her stomach fluttering with nerves. “Thank you. Now, there is another matter…”
“Another?” His eyebrows lifted in curiosity and concern.
Maria began a slow pace on the brocade rug. “Last night, I began my post at Jasper’s home…” Pulse racing, Maria detailed the events of the previous evening.
Thomas’ light brown gaze grew darker as she spoke, his jaw clenching and his shoulders tensing with ire as his twitches and grunts grew more frequent. A low growl escaped him as she described her struggle with Francis. And then she hesitated.
She and Thomas had always been forthright with each other, and despite the sensitivity of the topic, she would not shy away from the truth with him. Mayhap she ought simply to be blunt. Thomas was an understanding sort of man; he would likely be shocked but accepting.
And yet, the words wouldn’t come. A part of her thought that despite her intention to be honest with Thomas, she ought to keep her intimacies with Jasper private.
“What happened after—grunt—Francis escaped?” Thomas asked, his voice low and steely.
Maria was silent for a long moment while she considered her response.
All at once, Thomas surged to his feet, his mien thunderous. “I’ll shoot the—grunt, grunt, grunt, grunt, click—bastard!” He gasped a breath. “Where’s my pistol?”
“You’ll do no such thing,” Maria scolded. “Sit down and have a cup of tea,” she urged. “You’ll impel yourself into an attack of spasms.” And heaven knew she could not use that guilt on her conscience; the last time, Thomas had very nearly stopped breathing.
“Jasper—grunt, click, click, click—assaulted your virtue, Maria!” Thomas’ face squeezed tightly for several long moments before returning to normal, the motion leaving a slight flush on his cheeks.
Maria’s stomach twisted, and a damp sweat started beneath her breast binding. Nerves tingled along her spine and thickened her throat, forcing her to tug at her suddenly too-tight cravat. “You know very well that I do not conform to thehaut ton’s expectations, and I never shall. But Jasper didnotassault my virtue, for pity’s sake. Besides, how could you even?—”
“It’s—click,click,grunt—written all over—grunt—your f-face. Tell me it isn’t t-true.”
Despite her best efforts, she was unable to prevent the heat that crept up her neck and stole into her cheeks.
“Ugh!” Thomas’ features crumpled in a cringe.
At least they’d taken precautions. While their Mama hadn’t detailed encounters with men during her discussions with Maria and her sisters, taking on the alternate identity of Mr. Duncan Robertson had afforded her access to rather enlightening reading materials and information.
“Enough of—click—this. I c-cannot th—grunt, grunt—think on it any longer.” He cleared his throat. “Now, what are—grunt—we to do about the bastard, Mr. Francis Sinclair?”
“I shall visit Grace this morning to report in after the events of last evening. I should also like to confer with Heather to discover if she learned anything of import during her shift yesterday. Would you be so good as to examine my maid’s uniform and see if it might be repaired? I could not determine the severity of the damage in the darkness of night, but I know for certain that there were tears.”
Thomas nodded. “Of course—click, grunt. I’d intended to walk to the haberdashery this morning anyway; I’ll fetch the necessary items.”
“Thank you, Thomas.” Maria pulled him into a familial hug, and his arms wrapped around her tightly. She was surrounded by his comforting scent of jasmine and vanilla before he strode for the door and retrieved his gloves and hat. The man was kind beyond words and she loved him dearly; how could anyone not see past a few sounds and uncontrolled body movements to the wonderful person within?
The door closed behind him, and she heaved a sigh. The frock that she’d donned before leaving her home that morning was waiting, and Grace certainly required an update on events. On the way to her bedchamber, she spotted the parcel sitting upon her desk.
It was curious indeed.
She sat at the desk and cut the twine with the dagger hidden in her boot. The parcel was soft, though slightly lumpy, and it had been wrapped several times. Nimbly, she peeled away the wrapping one layer at a time. An odd wave of trepidation stole over her, and the closer she came to revealing the contents, the worse she felt.
Dark moisture seeped through the packaging, and a growing sense of dread quavered deep inside her. Fingers trembling, Maria pulled back the last layer to find…
“Holy hell!”
She stood so swiftly that her chair toppled backward with a loudcrack. Heart in her throat, she closed her eyes, clutching at her chest.It isn’t… It couldn’t be.
But it was.
Willing her speeding pulse to slow, she stepped closer to peer at the parcel’s contents. Fur, bones…and blood. A gag caught her unaware, and she swallowed against it. This was the work of Francis Sinclair. The monster had killed a…well, an animal, to be sure, the poor beastie. And he knew her home address.
