Her little nod sent a fresh wave of fury through him, but he forced it down, focusing on her instead.
“He… he wanted my father’s letters,” she said, her voice a little raspy.
Of course, Malum thought grimly. The bastard had been willing to burn the world down to get them.
“He said he’d…” Her breath hitched but she continued. “He’d help Reed. That he could make sure my brother was never questioned about the fire again. But…” She held his stare almost fiercely. “I realized… those letters—they’re important. Aren’t they?”
Malum stayed silent, letting her speak, though he kept one hand cradling her cheek, the other on her arm.
“I was starting to remember things… just pieces, at first. Things I didn’t want to think about. But then…” She swallowed hard. “When Crossings kept talking, the memories, they wouldn’t stay buried—theycouldn’tstay buried.”
“What memories?” he asked, careful though. Now was not the time to push her. They had time. With Crossings on the pavement, they had all the time in the world.
Her gaze dropped, her poor, scraped up little fingers curling into the fabric of her gown. “That day… my father. He gave me the letters. Told me to keep them safe—and not to say anything about them. And… and I think I knew, after. That they were the reason he died. That they were… dangerous.”
She drew in a long, shaky breath. “Crossings said he’d make sure no one hurt my family again. But I knew… I knew if I gave them to him, it wouldn’t stop. It would only make things worse.”
Her eyes flickered, as though recalling something else, and she shifted against him, pushing herself upright. Her trembling fingers moved to her bodice, dipping inside, and when they emerged with two folded papers, a wave of relief broke across her face. She looked up at him, her voice barely audible. “The rest went out the window, but I managed to keep these.”
Malum took the letters carefully, his gaze shifting between them and her pale, weary face.
This woman.
As he took the letters from her, his throat thickened with more emotion than he believed one man could feel—let alone a man like him. “You are so very wise, and so very brave.” His voice caught. “But it’s over now, Melanie. Crossings isn’t going to hurt you—or your family—ever again.”
The faintest flash of relief passed over her face, but her weariness didn’t fade. “He admitted it, you know.”
Malum reached for her hand, holding it tightly. “What did he admit?”
“That he’d sent someone after the letters.” Her throat bobbed, but she continued. “But my father didn’t have them. He’d given them to me…” Eyes fixed somewhere distant. “Which means Crossings was behind the fire at the hunting lodge.”
Of course.
“I wondered.” Malum was more than a little in awe of her. Melanie had had the answers all along, she simply hadn’t known what the questions were.
Malum felt his brows furrow. Crossings’ house had burned to the ground. But then, the duke had been trapped inside of Melanie’s house…
“I remember everything. I knew something wasn’t right—I think we all did. We, Caroline, Josie, and I, were forbidden from going down to the lodge…” She met Malum’s eyes, looking almost apologetic, ashamed. “My mother knew—we all knew they were involved in something…” She shook her head. “But I went anyway. I had a feeling, there was this look in Father’s eyes when he gave them to me.”
She glanced down with a rueful smile. “I was so sure he would see reason. I was his favorite. The doors were locked, of course. I pounded on them a few times, but when no one answered, I gave up. I just… gave up.” She closed her eyes for a second. “I was going back up to my uncle’s manor, but then I saw a man running along the path in front of me—a stranger. I didn’t know who he was, but I remember, he looked over his shoulder and I could see his face, and then there was an explosion. The lodge went up in flames, andthat manwas running away from it.”
She held Malum’s gaze steadily. “I recognize him now. It was Lord Northwoods.”
Malum went still. His hand tightened on hers, his voice dropping to a dangerous calm. “Northwoods?”
She nodded but then began coughing almost violently. Before she could recover, the door to his chamber swung open, and her family poured in.
Lady Helton crossed to the bed right away, her expression a mixture of dismay and relief as she took in the scene. “A doctor has been sent for,” she announced briskly, and then her face crumpled ever so slightly. “Oh, Melanie!”
Her mother and younger sister followed, and the room was immediately filled with raised voices of concern, questions, more coughing from Melanie, and Lady Roland’s not-so-quiet crying.
Malum kept one arm around Melanie’s shoulders, doing his best to protect her from the onslaught of concern even as he processed what she’d just told him, quietly trying to piece together this new information.
Malum’s thoughts jumped, however, when Standish appeared in the doorway, his expression a mix of gratitude and something else. Painful memories, no doubt, of when other members of his family hadn’t been so lucky.
Regardless of the tumultuous history between the two of them, Malum dipped his chin. He did not need her brother’s thanks. In the end, he didn’t deserve it.
Standish waited a moment, however, before his mouth twisted into a smirk, and he arched a brow. “You brought my sister into your bedchamber, Malum? Really?”
