Maia forced herself to wait until he brought it over to her, calmly replacing the teacup in its saucer. Then, as no one else was present at the table or in the room, she broke the seal and unfolded the card.
Darling Maia (if I may),it read,Ireturned last night from my travels. I should like to call on you at twoo’clock this afternoon. Please advise if you will receive me then. Alexander.
Relief exploded in her belly. Surely he wouldn’t call her “darling” if he were going to break the engagement or had otherwise changed his mind. Would he?
Maia read the note again, concentrating on the words written therein and trying to glean any other sense or emotion from them. The phrasing was correct and polite, which was nothing more or different than she’d expect from him. Alexander was the consummate gentleman. It was the proper thing to do—to ensure she was dressed and at home and prepared to see him. Even after his eighteen-month absence, he was so very considerate. Instead of rushing to see her at the earliest opportunity and interrupting her breakfast, he gave her notice of his intention. A proper gentleman.
Her hands felt clammy and her stomach unsettled.
She would not think about whatshehad been doing last night when Alexander was arriving home. She would not ever think about that again, now that her fiancé had returned.
“Will there be a reply, Miss Woodmore?”
“Oh,” she said. “Of course. I’ll return in one moment.” She rose from her chair and hurried out of the breakfast room and up to her chamber, where she kept her personal writing implements and stationery.
Except she wasn’t able to find a good ink pen in her drawer, and so she had to resort to rummaging through Angelica’s desk drawer for one. While she was doing so, she pulled out a sealed letter that had been tucked away beneath a box of note cards. Obviously something Angelica had meant to keep, but for some reason, hadn’t opened.
Was there bad news in it? Something she didn’t want to know?
Maia considered for a moment, looking at the strong, masculine writing on the outside. It said merelyAngelica.Sensitivity prickled over her arm. All at once, she knew: this was important.
She had to read it, she reasoned. Angelica was gone. There was the chance she might not return…only for a time; for Maia wouldn’t allow herself to consider the worst, and Corvindale’s relative ease with the situation had given her confidence Angelica would soon be safe.
She smoothed her fingers over the envelope, wishing she had more than her intuition to direct her.
Without further thought, she took the letter to a candle used for melting the wax for the seals and lit it. Holding the message just so above the flame, she waited for it to soften enough to be pried away, but without damaging or distorting the seal. Moments later, her steady hand rewarded her by lifting the black blob of wax so that she could read the note.
Angelica,
I am very grateful for the information you provided me, and because of that, I plan to fulfill my end of the bargain and leave London. I bid you farewell, then, and offer you a warning: do not wear the rubies in the presence of Corvindale, or even at all while you are under his care. I intended the earbobs to be a jest that only he would comprehend, but in retrospect, I’ve reconsidered. Wearing them could only cause you hurt and, whether or not you believe it, that is the last thing I should ever wish upon you.
Your servant, Voss.
Dewhurst. She’d known it. Maia stared down at the message. A variety of emotions rushed through her, ranging from anger to shock to confusion.
Where did one begin to make sense of this?
Not to mention all of the other things she had to make sense of.
What to do with the letter?
Corvindale.
The very thought of facing him after last night made her knees weak and her belly flutter.No.She absolutely could not. Her cheeks flamed.
But he should see the letter. At the very least, he should read the reference to the earbobs—which had to be the rubies that had suddenly appeared in Angelica’s chamber. She’d told Maia a ridiculous story that they’d been part of Granny Grapes’s collection, but Maia was no fool.
She hadn’t believed that story any more than she believed Angelica when she denied wearing Maia’s crocheted pink gloves on a picnic. They’d been stained with blueberry juice and had never come clean.
According to the letter, Dewhurst—Voss—had intended to leave London. Apparently he’d changed his mind; perhaps because he learned the vampire Belial meant to attack Angelica.
Maia shook her head, bit her lower lip and drew in a deep breath. It had to be done.
Blast it.
Slowly Maia replaced the writing implements in her sister’s drawer and then her gaze fell on the note from Alexander. She’d forgotten about it, and that someone was waiting below for her response.
Dashing off a quick reply that she would of course be pleased to see him any time he wished to call, she started out of Angelica’s room. But then she caught a glimpse of her reflection in the mirror and paused.
