“There is no need, Keaton,” Georgia said in a voice that dripped with brave pain, “I knew what our arrangement was when I married you. It comes as no great shock.”
“It should not,” Edric nodded insistently, “it is what was agreed.”
“Be silent, Swinthorpe!” Keaton roared at once. “In fact, begone!”
“No, I will go, and... I will go to my rooms,” Georgia said, voice trembling, “I am tired after our swim.”
Keaton reached for her, but she removed herself from the periphery of his touch. He heard her footsteps hurrying away towards the stairs.
“Damn you, Edric! You have thrown caltrops beneath the hooves of my marriage at exactly the time it was beginning to gallop!”
“Perhaps it was at just that time that a firmer hand was needed on the reins,” Edric retorted, “since that woman came into this house, you have changed.”
Keaton took in a deep breath, fighting to control his anger in deference to the help Edric had given him over the years.
“When I was found in the carriage wreck. What was I holding?” he asked, stepping closer to Edric.
“Holding? Nothing at all. What are you talking about? Wait, do you mean the ring?”
Keaton nodded starkly, though inside he was reeling.
He cannot know of that. I told no one except Thorne and Georgia. If he knows, it can only be because he has seen the ring, which has always been locked in my bureau. Until the bureau was broken into.
“Yes, the ring. Nothing else? No clue as to what happened?” Keaton continued, striding away, keeping his voice level.
He reached a bellpull and tugged it, summoning a servant.
“No clue. Just that damned ring. God knows where it came from,” Edric said, sounding relieved.
Did he believe he was out of the woods? That Keaton's suspicions had been allayed?
“You rang, Your Grace?” Rutherford announced himself across the hall moments later.
“Ready the trap to take me into town, Rutherford. We will go to the offices of Mr. Aloysius Thorne and then to Palin's.”
“Palin's? Excellent. Haven't been there in years!” Edric roared enthusiastically.
“No, Uncle. This business is between Thorne and myself. And, of course, the man who put the ring in my hand. Elias Roseton.”
His senses were alert, hearing straining for any sound of shock or surprise. There was a pause, a hesitation so slight that Keaton would not have noticed it had he not been listening for precisely that.
“There was no one else there. Elias...Roseton? The same family as your wife comes from?”
“The same. It is not important. I go to confirm Elias' fate for my wife and to shed some light on my own mystery, too, I hope. For so long, I had thought them separate incidents. Now, it seems they may have been intertwined all along. Go home, Edric. I will send for you when I wish to see you next.”
“I can remain here, and—”
“And nothing!” Keaton snapped, “Go to Swinthorpe and stay there until I send for you.”
He had no intention of allowing his uncle to be alone in the house with Georgia or Amelia, even with the servants present.
“As you wish,” Edric murmured. The sound came of clothes rustling, as though bowing stiffly.
His footsteps stalked away, and Keaton heard the door open and then slam shut.
“His Lordship is not to be admitted without my express permission,” Keaton explained, trusting that Rutherford still waited patiently by.
“Of course, Your Grace,” Rutherford replied. “Also, there is another matter that requires attention—”
