“Murdered? By whom?” His face swelled with anger once more, his skin mottled and blotchy.
She took a deep steadying breath. “I believe Stuart pushed her down the stairs when he discovered she knew of his treachery.”
“A ridiculous, absurd notion. The boy loved his mother. What kind of trick are you playing at?”
“I would not make such a claim if I did not have convincing proof,” she said quietly.
“And where is this proof?” he demanded. “Show me this evidence you speak of.”
“I have not been able to locate the final piece,” she admitted. “Her letters hint at its location, but as of yet, I have been unable to decipher her meaning. But her other letters clearly implicate Stuart as a traitor. And she wrote that she feared for her life.”
“Where are these letters? I would see them at once,” he demanded. He advanced menacingly toward her and she shrank away in fright. Something about his demeanor had completely changed. A new sense of urgency marked his every movement.
“I don’t think that is a good idea, my lord,” she said in a voice she hoped didn’t betray her stark fear. “I would wait until my father returns.”
“I think I underestimated you, my dear.” His face took on a sinister glint. His eyes reflected...malice. The room swirled dizzyingly before her. Fear rolled in her stomach until she feared she would cast up her accounts right on the drawing room floor.
There is malice in his eyes. The words, the viscountess’s words, drifted back to her in a moment of alarm. How stupid she’d been. It wasn’t Stuart at all. The viscountess had only said it would destroy Stuart, and what could be more destroying than to find out your father was a traitor and a murderer?
The pieces to the puzzle came flying together in her mind. His obsession with the locket, him prompting her to wear it all the time. He’d done so because he’d hired the men to steal it from her. How stupid and blind she’d been.
In panic, she backed frantically away.
###
“Mr. Grayson, there is a woman to see you.” Masterson’s face twisted in disapproval. “I told her you weren’t receiving callers, but she was most insistent.”
“Who is it?” Gray demanded.
“She says she is Lady Jenna’s lady’s maid. Shall I send her away?”
Alarm gripped him, and he sat up straight in his desk chair. “Send her in at once.”
“Very well, sir.”
A few moments later a distraught looking older woman swept in, her face riddled with fear. Gray crossed the room to help her into a nearby chair, his stomach clenched with worry. “My butler said you are Lady Jenna’s maid?”
“Yes sir, I am,” she said in a shaky voice. “Pardon my intrusion, but I didn’t know who else to go to.”
“What’s happened? Has something happened to Jenna?” Concern made his voice sharper than he intended.
“I don’t know, sir. Viscount Dudley came to call on Lady Jenna. I knew something wasn’t right. I listened at the door. She’s been acting so strangely lately. Thomas saw her hide some letters in her father’s desk so I pulled them out and read the one on top. They were from Viscountess Dudley. Awful ramblings about traitors and her fearin’ for her life and what not. When I hurried back to the drawing room, I heard the viscount threaten her if she didn’t resume the engagement with Mr. Eglin.”
Gray’s mind whirled with all the maid blurted out. She was clearly distraught and clearly afraid for Jenna. An icy chill seized his spine. Could any knowledge Jenna had be connected to the repeated attacks on her? First at the opera and then the night she had tried to walk home?
What if Stuart and his father had been behind those attacks? Why else would they be so determined that her marriage take place? His blood boiled at the idea of anyone threatening her.
Leaving the frantic maid behind, he tore down the stairs. He barked an order to summon the carriage. Not content to await its arrival indoors, he sprinted out to the street. He risked everything by going to her house. He couldn’t very well explain away his presence if the viscount’s visit turned out to be nothing at all. But his gut told him she was in danger. God, let her be safe, he prayed. If anything happened to her, he could not go on.
Chapter Twenty-Five
“You’re a lot smarter than I gave you credit for,” the viscount said, his eyes glittering dangerously as he advanced toward her. “There’s no need to try and hide it. I see it in your eyes. The sudden influx of fear. The utter panic. The realization that it wasn’t Stuart at all. Your desire to flee.”
Jenna tried to open her mouth and speak but found herself frozen. She took another step back as he continued toward her. She bumped against the window sill and slid sideways, desperate to put more distance between her and the viscount. Finally, she found her voice. “It was you?” Her hand covered her mouth in horror. Her heart beat wildly in her chest and she feared she would faint in fright.
“Come now, Lady Jenna,” he said silkily. “Tell me where this evidence is.”
Her mouth went dry as she bumped into the wall behind her. Out of the corner of her eye she searched frantically for the door.
