No, those words were not his to give. He would keep them where they belonged for now. Locked carefully away, awaiting the day when he could hopefully at long last be free from this shadow chasing him at every turn.
“It is dawn now,” she said, her expression turning sad. “I suppose we must rise and dress.”
“I reckon we must.” Hudson allowed himself one more kiss, and then he left the bed with great reluctance.
It was impossible to know what the day would bring.
Chapter 15
For a day which had begun steeped in such promise, it had certainly curdled with alarming haste. Elysande frowned over the breakfast table at her father and brother who had both determined she would not accompany them to Hudson’s old rooms and had just informed her so in mutual, highhanded fashion.
“You do realize I have already been there, do you not?” she asked, attempting to keep a tight rein on her indignation.
“Once was enough,” Papa told her mildly. “Such a scene is no place for a lady.”
Alady. For the entirety of her life, she had been treated differently because she had been born a daughter instead of a son. Oh, her father had done his utmost to allow all his children freedom. At Talleyrand Park, all were encouraged to set the encumbrances of society aside and simply behave as they wished. However, there had remained one unending difference he had never dismissed: she and her sisters were females, and ultimately, they were governed by a vastly different set of boundaries and rules.
“I am the same lady who has worked tirelessly at your side in your workshop,” she reminded her father.
The table went silent save for the familiar clink of silverware.
Her father frowned in her direction. “A workshop is a vastly different place than a place where a woman’s murder has occurred, Elysande. There is a distinct difference.”
“You ought never to have gone there before,” her brother added, a thinly veiled reprimand of Hudson.
At her side, her husband’s already stiff posture turned positively rigid. “Undoubtedly, you are correct, Royston,” he said. “I was thinking of Ellie’s superior mind when she accompanied me on the previous instance. However, my wife is fully capable of speaking for herself. I need not speak for her, and neither will I or anyone else make her decisions for her.”
The passionate lover who had given her such pleasure at dawn bore precious little resemblance to Hudson now. Why, he looked and sounded…ducal. And he was championing her in a way she had never imagined.
If she had not already been in love with him, she would have fallen then and there. As it was, he dug himself ever deeper into her heart.
“I am accompanying you this morning,” she added. “I will not be left here as if I am somehow too weak-willed merely because I am a woman.”
“No one is calling you weak-willed, Ellie,” her brother said, speaking in the placating tone she imagined he might use on a child. “We are merely having a care for your tender sensibilities.”
The urge to hurl some strawberry jam in his direction was strong, but she somehow clung to her restraint.
“What ofyourtender sensibilities?” she countered.
She loved Royston, truly she did. But his interference, albeit well-intentioned, was decidedly unwanted.
He gave her the smug smile of a scoundrel who possessed not a modicum of compunction. “Everyone knows I have none.”
Papa snorted. “Thank the Lord your mother is not present at the breakfast table. She despairs over you enough.”
Mama and her sisters were indeed abed, which was a reasonable enough place to be at this distressingly early hour of the morning. Indeed, there was only one reason Elysande herself was awake, and it was that she had every intention of staying by her husband’s side. Today and every day until they were assured he would not be charged with the murder of Mrs. Ainsley. Perhaps it was the manner in which her mind worked, but she could not shake the feeling that if she were not present, there was the very real possibility that something she would have noticed would be ignored.
“Perhaps instead of speaking to her, we should ask my wife her opinion on the matter,” Hudson suggested smoothly.
To his credit, he was navigating the treacherous waters of her family with aplomb. She sent him a fleeting smile of gratitude. “Thank you. My opinion is that I am perfectly willing and able to accompany you this morning to the place where Mrs. Ainsley met her end.”
“Where she waskilled, you mean to say,” her brother corrected her, his tone as mulish as his expression.
Tristan did not like being countered. Elysande and her brother were no strangers to conflict. Their opinions were both finite and firm. But where she had taken an interest in the science of making things work, Tristan had proven a poor engineer. He’d had no interest in Papa’s workshop. Nor had their sisters.
“Where she was killed,” she agreed, holding his gaze. “I am made of sterner stuff than you think. You ought to have learned that by now.”
“Oh, I do not question you, Ellie. I merely know that you are dreadful at acknowledging your own limits.” Her brother sipped his coffee, eying her balefully before turning back to Hudson. “She once broke a finger rather than admit she had been wrong in the design of a trap which was meant to capture kitchen rodents without harming them. I do not suppose she regaled you with that tale, no pun intended.”
