he looks so searchingly at me. There is
malice in his eyes, and if he finds
out for certain I know he will kill me.
Jenna let the letter fall from her hand, her face a mask of horror. Had he killed his mother? She struggled to remember the circumstances of the viscountess’s death. A fall down the stairs if she remembered correctly. Nausea rolled in her stomach, and she fought against the urge to retch.
Could he have done it? She shook her head in an attempt to dispel the awful image of Stuart pushing his mother down the stairs. No, it couldn’t be. Stuart may be a bumbling idiot, but a murderer? A spy?
But she couldn’t discount the viscountess’s own words. She couldn’t imagine Lady Dudley implicating Stuart unless she was certain. What would she do? She couldn’t marry a murderer, a traitor.
Frantically she leafed through the letters trying to find the one where Lady Dudley related where she had hidden the proof. If she could find whatever proof was hidden then she could...what would she do? She closed her eyes wishing fervently that she’d never met any of Stuart’s family.
A knock sounded at her door startling her. She glanced down at the letters covering her bed and frantically shoved them under her pillow. When she was content that they were well hidden, she stood up and smoothed her skirts. “Who is it?” she called.
“It’s Sebastian.” There was a long pause. “Please open the door. I’d like to speak to you.”
Sighing in resignation she went to open the door, turning away and returning to her bed once she’d admitted him. He followed her in and sat down beside her on the bed. Running his hand through his hair, he took a ragged breath. “Jenna, I know you think I’ve failed you, but I truly did not know you were so desperately unhappy, and I certainly never dreamed you would do something so shocking as to take a...” He broke off evidently unable to bring himself to complete the thought.
He turned vivid blue eyes on her, eyes that swam with emotion. “Why didn’t you come to me?”
Such a simple question, yet she had no simple answer. “What could you have done?” She let the question hang in the air for a long moment before continuing. “You would have reacted just as you did earlier, and I wouldn’t have been able to see Gray for as long as I did.”
“Is it true what Quinn said? Do you love him?”
She glanced down at her lap feeling, the unwanted sting of tears. “Yes. Very much so.”
She felt rather than heard him sigh next to her. “I’m sorry, Jenna. Truly I am. I don’t like to see you hurting, but surely you see how impossible such a match is.”
She refused to answer. Refused to admit that her happiness was an impossibility.
He put his hand over hers and gently squeezed. “I’m sorry.”
Unable to muster a smile, she merely squeezed back. She longed to confide in him what she had just discovered about Stuart, but she couldn’t. Not yet. She didn’t even know what it was she had found. And she didn’t want him to think she was just trying to get out of her betrothal.
“Is there anything I can do to make you feel better?” he asked.
“Short of stuffing Stuart in a trunk and shipping him to India? No. But thank you.”
He laughed. “Get some sleep, Sprite.” He left the room and shut the door quietly behind him.
Immediately she yanked the letters back out, sifting through them again, pouring over every word. Most were ambiguous. Merely reflections of Lady Dudley’s sorrow. But others offered chilling thoughts. She obviously feared for her life.
Finally Jenna found what she was looking for. The location of the evidence. After a quick scan, her eyes widened.In the room where I saw my greatest joy. She felt like screaming in frustration. Was that it?
Once again she thumbed through each letter looking for something she’d missed. Some clue as to where the evidence was hidden. But she found nothing. What was she supposed to do with non-existent proof?
She couldn’t very well calmly ask Stuart if he was a spy and had killed his mother. But she couldn’t go on as if nothing had happened either.
No matter what she did, she couldn’t leave the letters out for anyone else to see. Folding them into a neat stack, she looked hastily around for a place to hide them. Her room was sadly lacking in secretive spots. Papa’s study, of course!
Leaving the box on her dressing table, she hurried down the stairs and back to the earl’s study. She hoped Sebastian hadn’t taken up a position in it tonight. She expelled a quick breath of relief when she found it empty.
Not bothering to light a lamp, she groped around in the darkness. The bookcase offered the best hope of a hiding place, so she took out one of the heavy volumes and stuffed the papers within. Taking care to note which book she’d hidden the letters in, she replaced it on the shelf and hurried out.
On her way back to her room, she passed Quinn’s open door and paused. With a heavy sigh, she backed up and peered in to see him sitting at his desk a frown on his face. Knocking softly, she called out, “Can I come in?”
He turned, surprise lighting his face. “Yes, of course.” He pushed back from his desk and gestured at a chair to his left.
