St. John brought his mount to a halt and stared out to the sea. The mist was burning off already. It looked as though today would bring with it another clear blue sky.
“I should have known. It was too much to hope for, too good to be true.” Glancing at Dev, he narrowed his eyes. “Why did he not come to me himself?”
Dev did not want to get into any of this. “He knows you too well. He knows your feelings on the matter.”
St. John glared back at him but then apparently dismissed his disgust with a careless shrug. “What does he need of me?”
Thinking St. John had more to say, but would not, Dev paused a moment before explaining the plan, occasionally answering the few questions his cousin had.
St. John hated scandal. If Harold was going to do this, it would be in the family’s best interest for him to do it successfully. “Justin arrived yesterday,” St. John interjected. “He will make an excellent witness.”
“He is a vicar now?” Dev hadn’t seen Justin White for ages. He was a cousin on the duchess’ side.
“Yes, and less likely to have his observations questioned. Miss Mossant, I think. She is not squeamish and will be a credible witness as well. I imagine you plan on assuring yourself of Harold and… well, that Harold escape unharmed and unobserved.”
Dev nodded. “I will be at the cave with a mount for him and his disguise.” He would drag Harold out of the water if necessary, alive, of course. He would be certain Harold was as successful tomorrow as he’d been yesterday.
“Lady Harold knows, I presume,” St. John said, looking about, acting restless and bored with this conversation already. He was thankfully not opposing Harold’s plans, but with no apparent concern over the loss of his brother, either, which was slightly disturbing to Dev. Not surprising, but disturbing. A small amount of brotherly protest would have been admirable.
“She does.”
“I imagine this will be a picnic outing?” At Dev’s nod, he continued. “She will want to have even numbers then. Tell her to invite Lady Caroline. Aunt Lucille has brought her along, and I would not mind such genteel company.”
Well now. That would be pleasant for Miss Mossant.
They had St John’s cooperation, however, and that was what mattered most.
And so, it was set. The final pieces of the puzzle were falling into place.
Tomorrow, Harold would set both him and Sophia free. Dev grimaced. It was unseemly. It was devious and sinister even. He hoped in his heart that this did not cast a shadow on his and Sophia’s future. He would have her free of guilt, free of any shame or sorrow. But one did not always have control of such things.
He knew one thing for certain, though.
He would have her.
* * *
Sophia informedPenny she would most likely ask her husband to abstain from joining her that evening. She was expecting her courses, she told her, which was the truth but not the real reason.
From what Harold had divulged, Stewart was nervous nearly to the point of making himself ill. In addition to this, as a twosome, who had been used to spending a great deal of time in one another’s company, they’d hardly had any time together since the wedding. They would wish to give each other courage. To reassure one another.
Stewart had been forced to keep company with Penny on several of the afternoons when Harold and Sophia had gone swimming. Furthermore, he’d been alone during the nights. Not that this was so terrible, but, she supposed, when one was used to sleeping with one’s lover, well, the absence of him would be a considerable loss. Even if only for a few nights.
Sophia would give him and Harold a parting gift, per se. They would not be traveling together until they both reached the crossing. It would be nice for the two of them to bolster one another. And one night would not put any doubt in the duchess’ mind.
After sending Harold away for the evening, Sophia found herself feeling a little lonely. What was Dev doing? They’d not beenalonetogether since those stolen moments on the cliff. She missed him. Fraternizing with Dev and his family, dining together at the same table, and not being able to act upon her natural instincts toward him disheartened her.
Was she childish to need his reassurance? To need his comforting touch, his encouraging voice? Tonight, she felt the emptiness of it all the more. For these past several evenings, Harold had been here to distract her.
Alone in her chamber, she was free to dwell on her worries and guilt.
Where was Dev tonight? She needed him. She’d not heard anything save a terse missive with instructions pertaining to the outing scheduled for the following afternoon. In bold straight handwriting, he’d told her who was to be invited and what hour they ought to leave. Those details seemed inconsequential now but would matter greatly in the end.
She’d handled them to her satisfaction and then found herself at loose ends.
Even Rhoda was nowhere to be found.
Sophia was dispirited, rather, as though Harold was, in truth, going to die.
