There was only one other possible who. The most likely who. Had his father asked her and learned that indeed she had done it? Had he chosen a path to ensure she would never be asked, by him or anyone else?
Adam stared blindly at the letter a long time. The revelations in it emptied him out until only a dark hollow existed in his heart. He had assumed he would find proof the accusations had all been wrong. As for the who—
“What do you have there that makes you frown so seriously?”
He looked up. Clara stood just inside the door. A ribbon bound her hair at her nape. She wore the banyan and, he guessed, nothing else. It was much too large, and the sleeves covered her hands. The bottom pooled around her feet. If any servants had seen her, she would never know it. They all had orders to fade away if the lady visited.
Her eyes held naughty lights that said she wanted to play. They faded, one by one, as she gazed at him. She walked to the end of the table and looked at the pile of papers in front of him. “Your father’s papers.”
“I am going through the last group.” He set the stack back in the box. “I will bring these with me to London and finish there.”
“What was that you were reading, Adam? You looked far away and almost lost.”
He looked down on that letter, not even folded again now. “It was a letter he received that explained what he faced.” He held out his hand. “Come along. I will have breakfast sent up to my chambers.”
She did not take his hand but instead kept looking at that box. “Have you learned anything from them?”
“A few things, yes.”
“Did you learn that my father played a role?”
He wanted to lie, desperately. Had she asked an hour before or an hour later, he probably could have. “Yes.”
“I think you always suspected that. I feared you would learn you were right. It is why my brother fears you and my grandmother is so eager to make peace. Not because of some old argument over a piece of land. Because of this.” She looked at him with a gaze both sad and defiant. “Do you think of my father when you see me?”
“Not any longer. Not since very early. Please believe that.”
“I am not sure I do. What if you discover he is to blame for all of it? Or did you already? He is dead and you cannot challenge him. Do you take what little revenge you can through me?” Her voice rang with both fury and hurt. “When you are with me, perhaps you are thinkingLook what I am doing to your darling daughter, you scoundrel.”
“That is not true. Do not say that.” He reached for her, but she slipped away. Her back to him, she hugged herself.
He moved behind her but restrained himself from the embrace he longed to give her. “When I am with you, I think how I would like to live here with you, as I said this morning.”
“Here? A few miles from his home? From my family home? You will never give this up, ever, if you live here, with the grave of a man you blame mere miles away. As for me, am I to abandon them? Cross the great divide and never look back?”
He dared one touch on her arm. She did not thrash at him or jump away. “We can make peace, just as your grandmother first proposed. There would be no need to cross a divide if a bridge is built.”
She turned, angry still, and looked at him. “What were you reading when I arrived, Adam? Something bad, I think. Very bad, if you do not want to speak of it.”
“It confirmed some things I had already guessed and told me others I wish I did not know.”
“Was it enough for you? Are your questions answered? Are you now finished with this? Because if you are not, there will be no bridge that stands long, and no place for me in your heart that I can trust.”
Was he finished? Was it done? He wanted it to be. With his whole soul, if it meant he could have her.
Her expression smoothed. She reached up and laid her palm on his face. He would remember forever the look she gave him, as if she sought to memorize his face. “You must see it through, of course. This is your legacy as surely as these lands. What a fool I was to fall in love with you, knowing that. And yet, I find I am not sorry, even knowing what I now will suffer.”
“Clara—”
She touched his lips with her fingertips. “Do not. Please, do not. I think you would lie if you had to, and that would be too sad.” She lifted the hem of the banyan and walked to the door. “Please stay here until I am gone.”
She slipped from view. His mind went black and he slammed his fist into a wall. Then he sank down its length until he sat on the floor, and the hollowness filled with anguish.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Clara opened the letter. She knew what it would say. She knew Adam had sent it.
Come to meit read.
