Chapter
Nineteen
Aislynn knew the reason she slept so soundly that night was because of Cordell. After they had retired upstairs, she was surprised when they returned to his room where he coerced her to remove her robe and shift. However, instead of taking advantage of their clothing free bodies, he brought her close to him and just… held her. All night long.
She had never felt safer. Or more comforted.
Or loved.
She decided long ago that it was a losing fight to try and say she was not in love with Cordell. For such a short acquaintance, they had gone through so much loss and devastation that it had made their tenable bond that much stronger. They had already endured the worst, so what else was there to do but look upward?
If Cordell asked her to spend the rest of her life with him, she knew she would not hesitate. He might fear that he would turn into his father but she knew in her heart that he was a good man, a sane man, but one who had suffered just as she had. While her mother was a thief, there had been days when the drink had turned her into a monster capable of terrible things. That was how Aislynn had broken her arm. It hadn’t been a childish mishap, but rather her mother’s rage while intoxicated. It had taken Aislynn a number of years to forgive such reprehensible actions, but that did not mean she would allow such treatment again. It was why she gave her mother a wide berth and did not entertain her except when necessary. She had made her choices in life, just as Aislynn had.
If it happened that Cordell’s mind faltered someday, then that was something they would see through together. She would do everything within her power to see that he received the help he needed. It hurt her to think of him tied to this bed, raving like an animal in chains. The only restraints he should use ought to be for purposes of pleasure and not pain.
She prayed she had shown him how different things could be if he would only allow himself the chance to alter his thinking, to believe that things might actually work out for the good. Together, they could overcome those obstacles that had stood in their way for so long. She knew that he would continue to encourage her work on the stage, and hopefully, he would continue to allow her to join him on his investigations, especially when it seemed to become too much when it reminded him of past grievances.
The next morning dawned gray and gloomy, snow falling lightly outside the window. Aislynn wanted nothing more than to enjoy the day wrapped in Cordell’s arms, but he had other ideas.
After he had prepared bacon and eggs for breakfast, slicing some bread that his housekeeper had made earlier in the week, he announced, “I sent a missive to Lord Alton early this morning. I expect him to be calling shortly.”
She was curious by this. “Did you have a revelation?” It was meant as a jest, but he remained stoic.
“Something like that. We will see if my theory proves correct.”
She narrowed her gaze slightly. For some reason, his expression did not bode well. Her heart stuttered in her chest. Every time she started to imagine a bright future, it started to dim like the gloomy day outside. “What are you not telling me?”
“You will find out soon enough.”
That was all he said on the matter, so as soon as Aislynn was finished eating, she headed for her chamber where he said he’d also requested her things be returned to the townhouse. She rummaged around for another of her serviceable gowns and donned her nicest brown woolen before heading downstairs just as the viscount walked in the front door.
“Miss Sims.” He inclined his head politely.
She held out her hand and he offered a light kiss on the tips of her bare knuckles. “Lord Alton, please, I think after last evening you should feel free to call me Aislynn.”
He offered a slight smile. “I would never assume to be so informal, but if you insist?—”
“I do.”
“Then I must insist the same. Do you not agree that Findlay is such a unique name, but I am never allowed to use it for propriety’s sake.”
Aislynn laughed lightly. “Shakespeare himself could not have written such a terrible tragedy, to be sure.”
“Alton, you are here. Good.”
Aislynn was surprised at the curt tone in Cordell’s tone as he entered the foyer but he had been acting strangely all morning. No doubt whatever secret he was keeping was weighing heavily on his mind. Thankfully, the viscount did not seem to take offense.
“Did you bring the letter?”
As they all filed into Cordell’s study, the viscount withdrew the paper from inside his vest pocket. He handed it to their host and as he made his way to the other side of the desk, Cordell laid it on the top where another missive was already present.
Aislynn watched as Cordell stared at the two items with a heavy frown marring his brow. His fists were placed on the wood in front of him and when he spoke next, his words were in an even tone. “I was not sure if my suspicions were correct, but something Aislynn said last weekend made me ponder the similarities.” He glanced up and looked at Aislynn and the viscount, who were standing opposite him. “Last night you mentioned that the attacker had piercing, blue eyes. I have long heard the same definition when it came to someone I know quite intimately. But I needed further proof to make me believe it.”
He spun the papers around so that they could see the writing. Cordell addressed the viscount, “Do you not agree that the handwriting is an exact match, more so than mine?”
Lord Alton withdrew a pair of spectacles from his vest and situated the wires over his ears. He picked up both letters to gain a better view. However, it did not take long before he nodded his head. “I thought that your hand was similar, but now I can tell a marked difference. There is no doubt in my mind that they were written by the same person.”
A small gasp escaped Aislynn. Although she had known that the murderer would be revealed at some point, she had not expected the viscount to concur with whatever fascination had abruptly hit Cordell. “Do we truly know who is responsible? Shall it all be over soon?”
