Colin sat in his dressing gown and nothing else, staring at his empty bed and listening to the throbbing pulse that echoed in his aching head. A night of drinking had done nothing to make him forget Jane. In fact, it had only made the emotional pain become mirrored by the physical version.
“Nothing less than you deserve after what you did to her,” he muttered to himself. There was a knock on the door and he sighed. “Yes?”
“My lord,” Simmons said, cracking his door partly. “You have a visitor.”
Colin jumped to his feet. “Jane?”
The butler refused to meet his gaze. “I’m afraid it is not Lady Wharton, my lord, but an inspector from the guard. He says that you told him to call if he had anything further to report on the…situation yesterday.”
Colin tensed. Hehadsaid that to the inspector the day before. Only a day? It felt like a year. A decade. A lifetime. But Arthur’s mess would have to be dealt with, no matter how bereft Colin was over Jane.
“Show him to the parlor and see if he would like some breakfast,” he said with a sigh. “And send in Drake to help me ready. I’ll be down as soon as I can.”
“Yes, my lord.”
His butler left, and in short order his valet came in. He picked Colin’s clothing, asking his usual questions about waistcoats. Normally Colin participated in his morning routine, but today he waved the questions off, allowing Drake to choose everything. What did appearances matter?Appearanceswere what had gotten him in this mess in the first place.
Eventually he was dressed. He thanked his valet with an apologetic nod and then collected himself as he strode downstairs to the parlor where the inspector waited.
He drew a deep breath, trying to put on the visage of Viscount Wharton rather than a grieving husband at a loss. He wasn’t certain how well he did when he opened the door and the inspector turned, pastry in hand, and frowned at him with concern.
“Good morning, Inspector…” Colin said, entering the room and holding out a hand.
The other man shook it without putting down his croissant. “Hyde, my lord.”
“Of course,” Colin said. “My apologies for not recalling that.”
“I understand, my lord,” Hyde said, finally putting aside his breakfast with a blush on his round cheeks. “Yesterday was a trying one, I’m sure.”
“And I think your appearance here must signal that today will be little better. Is there an update on my cousin?”
He braced himself for the news, but Hyde shook his head. “Nothing much, my lord. He was taken to Bedlam in the end.”
Colin frowned. “I thought as much. Perhaps better for him than prison. I’ll ensure he is taken care of comfortably. God, his mother will be devastated.” Hyde nodded somewhat uncomfortably, and Colin shook off his musings. “But if there was no update beyond that one, what is it you came for, Inspector?”
“Ah, yes,” Hyde said, digging into his inside pocket. From it, he withdrew a packet of letters, bound with worn ribbon. “When we searched your cousin’s offices yesterday evening, one of my men found these.”
Colin held up a hand. “I assure you, sir, I have no need to read my cousin’s private correspondence. I’m certain if you think—”
“I’m sorry to interrupt, my lord, but these aren’t letters to your cousin. They are…they’re addressed toyou.”
Colin took the packet, untying the ribbon even as he stared at the inspector. “Me?”
“Yes, my lord. It appears your cousin was intercepting certain correspondence before it reached you, keeping you from receiving it.”
Colin looked at the hand on the top folded sheet. It was inJane’shandwriting. He flipped to the next letter, the next. They were all from Jane.
“Mr. Hyde,” he said, hearing the hollow sound to his voice. “How many letters were there from my wife?”
“We counted thirteen, my lord.”
Colin’s stomach turned. Thirteen. And judging from the dates written on the back of each envelope, this time in his cousin’s hand, they had been sent every week for the three months before Jane made her unexpected return to London.
Now her comment the night before about her pleas for forgiveness, for starting over, made sense. She had written to him every week for half the time they had been apart.
And his silence had been a rejection to her. A verification that he didn’t care for her. That her words meant nothing to him. When, in reality, they meant everything.
Hyde shifted under the weight of Colin’s silence. “That’s all I came for, my lord. I should leave you to your day.”
