“Oh?” Sarah asked, her round brown eyes searching Eliza’s face. “How do you mean?”
“Malcolm is often moody and talks to me as if I’m an idiot child. And then, just as quickly, he’ll turn the other way, and be as charming as he was during our courtship. I just don’t understand it. I don’t understandhim.It was intriguing at first, but now it’s a source of frustration. I’m afraid I know very little about my husband, and all my efforts to learn more have led to a game of hide-and-seek I’m not keen on continuing.”
Sarah pulled the car over to the side of the road and turned to Eliza. “I’ve known Malcolm since I was a child, and his brother was my very best friend. I spent a good deal of time at Havenwood Manor when I was young. I saw a lot. Ask me anything, and I promise I’ll be honest with you.”
“Anything you’d care to tell me is welcome. Was their father as awful as everyone says?”
Sarah nodded. “When it came to the boys, the expectations he had were ridiculous. He had Malcolm rise every morning at six, and if he wasn’t up by then, he’d drag him out of bed by the ear, calling him a lazy brat. He beat him to ‘toughen’ him up. I saw it once. It was so bad I’m surprised your husband made it to adulthood as comely as he is.”
“Merde,” Eliza said. “I didn’t know the beatings were such a regular occurrence.”
“Yes. And to many, it seemed as if he favored Gabriel, but that’s pure rubbish. The only reason Havenwoodstoppedbeating Gabriel wasthat once he was old enough, he’d hit back even harder. The old bastard could mold Malcolm, bend him to his will. With Gabe, he had to be more subtle. Havenwood gave him two choices: become a vicar or choose a military career. I can tell you—my Gabriel wasn’t suited to a priest’s collar.” At this, Sarah smiled sadly. “I miss him so. Everyone thought we’d marry—my father would have loved that—but my marriage with Dickie suits me perfectly. He lets me be myself.”
“That’s what anyone should hope for in a marriage.” Eliza sighed. “I wish I knew more about what happened to their mother. She’s an enigma. I’ve found her diary, but the entries are a bit of a riddle. The puzzling thing is, she didn’t seem to have any true enemies who’d want to see her dead, apart from that housekeeper ...”
“Yes. Mrs.Galbraith. Hideous woman. Face and manner like an axe. She was certainly awful and there was talk she had designs on old Lord Havenwood, but she died in the fire as well. It couldn’t have been her. We’ll likely never know what happened in that house, fully. And Ada was a mystery to most who knew her. She and I had many things in common, but even still, she would only let me get so close before pulling away.” Sarah looked out over the moors. “I only hope she’s happy, wherever she is.”
“You don’t think she’s dead?”
“Not for a minute, darling.”
CHAPTER 26
The downstairs clock was chiming. Eliza counted six bells, and then seven, but for once, Malcolm remained in her bed. They’d made up in full after their dinner together, indulging in the leisurely kind of lovemaking that soothed Eliza’s frustrations. But while Eliza had been satisfied, Malcolm had barely slept afterward, his body racked with nightmares. Long after he’d drifted into his fitful sleep, she stayed awake next to him, stroking his back and whispering endearments until he quieted.
As the clock chimed eight, he finally woke, his eyes blinking drowsily. “You’re still here.”
“I was just going to say the same to you. I miss you when you leave me so early.” She pushed his dark curls from his face. “You were troubled last night. You cried out in your sleep, several times.”
Malcolm closed his eyes, deep creases forming at their corners. “I had a dream you’d left me. Well and truly. I was searching for you everywhere, but all the light had gone from the world, and fanged beasts tore at me from every dark corner. It was hellish.”
“You sound a bit like Dante searching for his lost love.” Eliza chased the drifting thread and barely caught it. “Beatrice. There was a maid here at one time called that, wasn’t there? Just like Dante’s love?”
Malcolm sat upright in bed, fully awake. Something akin to panic glinted in his eyes. “How on earth did you find out about Beatrice?”
“Mrs.Duncan told me about her once, in passing. Why does it matter?”
Malcolm ran a hand over his tangled hair and reached for his trousers. “It doesn’t. She was just a young woman my mother hired on as a lady’s companion and nanny. Did Duncan say anything else about her?”
“No, nothing at all.” How funny. There was something about Beatrice—she could see it on his face, the sudden way he’d flinched at her name. She had caught him unawares, but pressing her husband wasn’t the way to get him to open up. She’d leave it ... for now. Eliza sat up against the headboard and pulled the sheets around her bare bosom. “What are you up to and about today?”
“I’ve an appointment in Southampton. I should have been on the road an hour ago.”
“Are you looking at hiring more men to finish our work?”
Malcolm buttoned his shirt over his chest and shook his head. “No. This is something else. A surprise.” The hint of a smile tugged at his mouth. He sat in front of the chair by the fireplace and pulled on his boots. “You’ll still be here when I return, won’t you?”
“Of course. Mrs.Duncan and I are planning on working in the garden this afternoon. She insists the carrots must be pulled.” Eliza stood, letting the sheets fall away.
Malcolm’s eyes roved hungrily over her bare flesh. “Come here, wife.”
She walked to him, her pulse quickening. He cupped her breasts, kneading their fullness in his palms, his tongue flicking over their hardened peaks. “Like so much ripe, delicious fruit,” he murmured.
Eliza sighed, her head rocking back. “Shouldn’t you be going?” she asked breathlessly. “Don’t you have somewhere to be?”
“Do I?” He gripped a hank of her hair, pulling her onto his lap as his lips found the soft curve of her throat, drinking her skin.
“I thought you were late ...”
