“Perhaps we should take our leave.”
Relief washed over her, and she nodded her agreement.
Stuart left her long enough to give Lady Hawthorne their regrets and summon the carriage. A few minutes later they were on their way.
The ride home seemed interminable. She was fully prepared to launch herself out the door if he made an untoward advance. Several times, she watched him out of the corner of her eye, gauging his mood, watching his eyes for any sign of ill intent.
When he spoke, she nearly jumped out of her seat.
“Jenna, I hope our conversation of the other night hasn’t affected our rapport.”
What rapport? Unless you counted her strict avoidance of having a rapport. How did one maintain a rapport with a suspected murderer anyway? So she lied. “No, not at all. I’m glad we got it out in the open.”
“And the man you are...the person you are...” He broke off apparently flustered.
“There is no longer any man,” she said quietly, trying to calm her raging nerves. She had no wish to anger him. “I broke it off. I have no intention of carrying on an affair once we are married and certainly not under Mamma’s and Papa’s noses. They are returning any time from their trip.”
He looked relieved by her announcement, and oddly enough she detected a fleeting moment of regret in his eyes. “I am sorry if it made you unhappy to do so, but it’s good that no one discovered what you were about. I have no wish for you to be flayed by vicious tongues.”
She could almost forget that he might be a spy or a murderer. For the space of a few moments he was the Stuart she’d grown up with, always looking out for her. Another brother like Sebastian and Quinn. What had happened to him?
“I appreciate your concern,” she said quietly. “I have no desire to embarrass you, Stuart. No matter how it may appear.”
He patted her hand. “I know, Sprite, I know.”
She looked at him surprise. He hadn’t called her Sprite in years. Not since the last summer they’d all spent together, her, Sebastian, Quinn, and Stuart. Even when her brothers had adopted the name into adulthood, he had ceased to use it. She had the sudden urge to throw herself in his arms, just as she had done as a small girl. Only her newfound fear of him prevented it.
Countless times he had consoled her when Sebastian or Quinn had tormented her endlessly. Stroked her tussled hair, flicked her nose and told her to kick them in the shin if they got too overbearing.
It was on the tip of her tongue to ask him what happened, but she didn’t want to make him feel awkward. Besides, she wasn’t sure she wanted to know the answer to that question.
“Jenna, there is something I’ve been meaning to ask you,” he began.
Her breath caught in her throat. “Y-yes, Stuart?”
“The locket my mother gave to you...did she tell you of any significance it had? Some meaning perhaps?”
He was looking intently at her, and her blood was racing. What should she say? She shook her head. “N-no, I mean, she said it was special to her and that is why she gave it to me on the occasion of my birthday. Why do you ask?”
She twisted her hands nervously in front of her, sure he could see the sweat running down her neck.
“No reason,” he murmured. He turned back to look out the window.
As they pulled up to her house, her mind was whirling. She opened her mouth to ask the one question she wanted to ask above all, but closed it just as quickly. But she had to know. She turned so that she was looking directly into his eyes. “Stuart, exactly how did your mother die?”
Something flickered in his eyes, something cold and formidable. She shivered even before he replied. “She had a rather unfortunate fall down the stairs.”
She bolted from the carriage, only too anxious to be away from him and safely within the house. His promise to call on her again rang like a threat in her ears. She was breathing heavily when she slammed the door behind her. A quick glance around told her Sebastian and Quinn were likely out or upstairs.
Drawn to her father’s study and to the letters she’d hidden earlier, she hurried to the back of the house, making sure the study was empty before she entered. She took the volume from the shelf and retrieved the missives. She read through them again, making sure she’d not made a mistake. But no, it was as before. No mistake.
She crammed the letters back into the book, replaced it on the shelf then hurried up to her room. A prickling sensation tickled the back of her neck as she entered. A nagging worry assailed her as she looked around the room.
Someone had been in here.
She searched frantically for the locket she’d left on the dressing table. Both it and the box she’d put it in were gone. Thank God she’d hidden the letters. But who would have taken them? Surely not Sebastian or Quinn. What point would it have served?
Maybe Sebastian had taken it to be repaired as he’d mentioned. But why take the box, and why not just ask her for it? A chill descended on her. The coincidences continued to mount. The fact that she’d been invited out so unexpectedly. Then her locket disappearing from her room.
