There would be dancing until well into the morning, keeping him a prisoner inside the house, for he could not risk being seen either leaving or returning. This made him angry, more driven to act.
He had not felt settled for the past week. The last girl had been a grave disappointment. He had made her acquaintance at the glove shop only a week prior to killing her. She had been shy and stammering, just as he preferred. A sweet innocent, too trusting to know evil when it had embraced her.
Yet she had died that way too—with no fight, no spirit. Her struggles had been minimal, her cries and pleas nearly unheard. It brought him so little pleasure he briefly considered stopping before the job was finished, but he knew that would be foolish.
The shop girl knew his face, could identify him to the authorities. The chances of his being located were very slim, and if that somehow miraculously occurred he would, of course, insist the girl was mistaken. It would come down to his word against hers. He had no doubt he could win such a battle, could convince other men he was innocent and she was merely being a vengeful female.
Had he not proved how clever he was all these years by walking among them, the frivolous society of well-bred ladies and gentlemen? And they suspected nothing.
Yet in this case he could not afford to take the chance. Other female bodies had been discovered in town, young women who had died in a similar manner, with the deep marks of his hands upon their necks.
So he had finished killing her, wringing out a small bit of delight at the stark look of horror in her eyes seconds before they closed for all eternity. He sighed deeply at the memory. So much effort for so little satisfaction was surely a crime.
A swirling mass of color fluttered before him, jarring him back to the present, back to the ball. He saw Lady Meredith in the center of the dance floor, prancing delicately in front of an older, distinguished gentleman. Her father-in-law, the Duke of Warwick.
The man snorted. He was not as easily fooled as the others. She had attracted much attention with this behavior, been applauded for her virtue, for rising above any scandal. Yet the fact remained she had made a hasty marriage to a man who now neglected and ignored her.
He knew that hurt her. He had seen it in her eyes the morning of the duel. She had been frantic with worry to stop the duel, not only to spare her precious brothers, but to spare the marquess any harm. He had never suspected she cared for the marquess so deeply. It was amazing to see the truth revealed, to learn this most important secret of her heart.
’Twas just and fitting revenge that she who had caused such humiliation to others would in turn be treated with scorn and little regard. How wonderful that this ice maiden who was so beautiful and cold, who had rejected honorable offers of marriage from so many men who were superior to her in every way, was now tied to someone who had no regard for her. Who showed her no respect and no consideration.
The man smiled wickedly at the mystery of fate’s justice. Lady Meredith had become the most pitiful of all society’s creatures—the neglected, forsaken wife.
He knew it must rankle her pride, wound her heart to be treated in such a disgraceful manner. That was good. For as long as Dardington ignored her, she would suffer. And as long as she suffered, she would be allowed to live.
Fourteen
Some women felt incomplete without a man by their side. Meredith had always prided herself on being beyond that, on feeling she alone knew what was best when it came to managing her life. Yet as she lingered the morning after the ball in her sitting room, staring at an uncompleted letter she was composing to her friend Faith, Meredith conceded what she really wanted was to discuss the unsettling feelings she had experienced last night—with a man.
Her father-in-law was the natural choice. He was kind, levelheaded, and very much concerned about her. If the opportunity had presented itself, Meredith probably would have mentioned it to him, but the carriage ride home from the ball last night had been unusually brief.
She could always call upon her brothers and solicit their opinion, but she hesitated. She had been impressed by their recent signs of maturity, but they still tended to overreact to a situation. If she confided that she thought she was being watched by someone, they would no doubt raise a cry of alarm.
When considering that reaction, it was logical to conclude the ideal person to ask would be Trevor. He was intelligent, worldly, and calm in the face of danger. Yet it behooved her to remember her husband preferred to have as little to do with her as possible. That thought stayed with her all through the night, making her decision not to say anything to her husband an easy one.
Meredith’s gaze shifted back to her unfinished letter. If only Faith were in town, Meredith could discuss with her good friend the fear and unease that had caused her such a restless night. She had barely slept, plagued by half-formed disturbing dreams that kept her tossing and turning in her bed.
Given the chance, she would even reveal her concerns to Faith’s husband, if her friend thought that would help. Unfortunately, this was not the sort of problem one could easily explain in a letter.
We had a lovely time at the ball last evening. I so enjoyed seeing Elizabeth again, and even Harriet managed to behave herself. My brothers are completely taken with Elizabeth, while totally fearful of Harriet, the ever present chaperon. Oh, and by the by, I have a great anxiety about being followed and observed by an unseen stranger that I can neither prove nor adequately explain.
Meredith threw down the quill in frustration. Was she making too much of all this? Probably. Heaving a sigh, she picked up her pen and dipped it in the ink. Bending her head, she set herself to the task of completing her letter, without any mention of her wild imaginings.
Meredith was concentrating on keeping the tone of her letter light hearted and amusing when the hairs on the nape of her neck lifted. Then she heard a footfall behind her. It was Rose’s half day off, so she knew it could not be her maid. And the chambermaids had already cleaned and aired her bedchamber.
Meredith had not rung for any servants. There would therefore be no reason for any of them to be in her rooms. Besides, a servant would knock before entering her private quarters.
“I had not expected to find you at home at this time of the day.”
Meredith spun around, her pulse beating in an uneven rhythm. Trevor stood in the doorway, his expression openly curious. Meredith swallowed hard. “Goodness, you startled me.”
“I can see that.” He crossed his arms over his chest and leaned casually against the door frame. “For a moment you looked absolutely terrified.”
“I have been a bit jumpy as of late,” Meredith admitted. “And you are, of course, the last person I expect to see in my rooms.”
He grimaced, and Meredith regretted her choice of words. Steeling herself for his scathing comeback, she put down her quill and faced him fully.
“Do you have plans for the afternoon?”
