“To run an errand that should have taken an hour.”
“But there was an unexpected delay.”
“Yes. When I took the basket to Mrs Jenkins in the nextvillage, two of her children were ill. I fetched the doctor and stayed to cut linens and bring clean water.”
“Your father was landed gentry.” Mr Daventry, it seemed, had wasted no time gathering evidence. “Your childhood home in Lewes came with fifty acres, yet no servants died in the fire.”
A small mercy no one questioned.
“He rented the land to local farmers, and we kept a small staff of three at my father’s insistence. It was their half-day.”
“Like your husband, perhaps he knew servants could be bought.”
Gabriel shifted. “It’s why I don’t keep a butler. I’ve yet to meet one I can trust.”
“You’ve yet to meet anyone you can trust,” Mr Daventry quipped before returning to his original question. “Do the events of that day seem suspicious to you now, my lady?”
“Everything seems suspicious to me now.”
“Then you and Rothley have much in common.”
“Common ground is where all good friendships are built.”
Mr Daventry glanced between them and gave a lopsided smirk. “My wife would agree. She’s been my constant in a world of uncertainty.”
Olivia managed a faint smile. Gabriel could never say that about her. The thought pressed heavily on her chest, an ache beneath her ribs, a reminder there was still something she hadn’t told him.
Something he deserved to know.
Something that might change everything.
Perhaps it wasn’t too late.
“You must understand that when your life is shrouded in lies and secrecy, it becomes difficult to trust your own thoughts.” Her pulse drummed in her throat as both men fixedher with unnerving intensity. “There’s something else. Something I’ve been afraid to mention. Two things, actually. One I’m fairly certain of. The other … less so.”
Gabriel’s weary sigh cut to the bone.
She braced herself, half expecting him to stand and walk out.
Instead, he surprised her. “I know how the mind plays tricks. How it recycles the same thoughts until you start doubting your own sanity.”
“Yes.” She smiled, hoping the warmth blooming in her chest reached her eyes. That he felt it. That he knew. “I prayed you’d understand.”
“Still, I’ll have your word this is the last time you’ll keep secrets or fail to confide in me.”
“I held my tongue to spare you the uncertainty, but I give you my word, there is nothing more.” She gathered her courage, knowing what she said next might change everything. “I may have seen Justin Lovelace before. Two years ago, while peering through the keyhole of my father’s study.”
“You refer to the man taken from the watch-house?” Gabriel refused to confirm or deny they were speaking about his friend.
“Yes. And because something in the countess’ expression when she’s anxious reminds me of him.” Anticipating their questions, she hurried on. “He’d come to collect a map. Whatever he planned to do with it, the risks were great, because he asked that those closest to him be protected.”
Part of her wished she had remained abed and not been so inquisitive. But she’d crept to the study, determined to learn why her father disappeared at night.
“And you’ve no notion what was marked on the map?” Mr Daventry asked. “No names were mentioned.”
“No. Only that he would receive the key from their contact at Shady Moor.”
“Shady Moor? You mean Shadwell?” Mr Daventry said.
