“Admitted to everything in the end,” Daffin finished, shaking his head.
“That’s the thing about crimes involving humanity’s baser passions,” Mark added. “It’s difficult to keep that amount of emotion hidden.” He exchanged a look with Nicole.
She sucked in her breath. Passions? Emotions? He was talking about the two of them. After what he’d said last night about dreaming about her, she didn’t know how to feel. They both knew their time together was limited. They both knew they were having sex to fulfill her condition, but could there be something more? Had either of them changed enough?
Nicole’s thoughts were interrupted when Aunt Harriet wandered into the room, unaware of the tension bouncing among its occupants. Her batlike handkerchief fluttered in her hand. “It was a lovely memorial, wasn’t it, dears?” she said with a long, drawn-out sigh.
They all nodded and murmured in unison.
Lady Harriet shook her head sadly. “Edward has taken to his bed. It was difficult for him to bury his only son. Poor, dear man.”
“Yes,” Mark replied, his voice clipped. “I can only imagine.”
Aunt Harriet continued to wave the handkerchief inthe air. She turned to Mark and Daffin. “At least we have the naming of the heir tomorrow to look forward to. What’s next for the investigation?”
Nicole exchanged a knowing look with Regina.
Nicole took a deep breath. “We have one more important question to ask someone.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE
Mark sat in the study again the next morning, Oakleaf to his right. His uncle sat behind the desk. Mark was supposed to be focused on the conversation about how they intended to announce the heir later that afternoon, but his mind kept drifting to Nicole.
They had spent another passionate night together. He was getting little sleep, but that was fine with him. It was odd, however, how they spent hours in rapture together in bed, but during the days spoke to each other as if they were barely more than acquaintances. If it weren’t for the heated glances they’d shared, he’d wonder if their nights together weren’t figments of his imagination. Nicole actually seemed standoffish. He’d try to catch her eye and she’d glance away. He’d try to move closer to her and she’d drift away. But her reaction to his touch in bed was real. He could feel it. He could tell. She was enjoying herself and so was he. So what was the problem?
Even as he asked himself the question, he answered it. The problem was and always would stem from the night they’d broken their marriage apart.
***
He’d come home whistling, flowers in his hand, purchased from a street vendor near the circus. Nicole wasn’t home. Was she at the runners’ office again? Early in their courtship he’d begun to suspect there was some pastime she engaged in that he knew nothing about. It was easy to follow her, to figure it out. He trusted her but he had to ensure she was safe. The moment he realized she was working with the runners, a fear like none he’d ever known had gripped him. It stayed with him day and night. He would have to bring it up eventually if she didn’t, but he hoped she would tell him first. She needed to trust him enough to share her secret. If it meant that much to her, he would allow her to continue her work, but he’d never lose the fear that gripped him when he thought of her putting her life in danger.
He was about to climb the stairs to their flat when Mrs. Allworthy, the woman who owned the building, called to him from behind her shop’s closed door.
“Some letters arrived for you, Corporal,” the older lady called out in a singsong voice.
Mark stopped on the first step, smiled to himself, and turned back to wait for Mrs. Allworthy’s door to open. When it did, she handed him a small stack of correspondence and crossed her arms over her chest. “I suppose those are for your lovely wife.” Mrs. Allworthy nodded to the flowers.
“They are,” Mark replied with a wide grin. “White roses are her favorite.”
Mrs. Allworthy sighed. “I wish my husband was that thoughtful.”
Mark pulled a rose from the bouquet and presented it to the landlady with a bow. “For you, my lady.”
“Thank you, Corporal,” the woman replied, taking the rose from him and smiling from ear to ear.
Whistling again, Mark made his way up the stairs.
He entered the flat and tossed the flowers and the correspondence on the small table that sat in the corner of the tiny kitchen. He turned in a wide circle to find a vase or some other contraption to hold the flowers when one of the letters caught his eye.To my darlings, Nicole and Mark.He picked up the letter and turned it over in his hands. The Whitby stamp covered the back. Lady Whitby didn’t usually address her letters to both of them. She’d just recently left for her country house in Sussex. Letters had only just begun to arrive for Nicole from her mother. He smiled to himself. He was already settling into his new family. Even though he didn’t like to admit it, it felt good to no longer be alone in the world. When was the last time he’d received a letter that wasn’t about work?
He wiped his hands on his breeches and ripped open the correspondence with one finger. The first page was a lot of womanish gossip and dull details about how the servants had aired out the country house. On the next page, however, he stopped. He had to read one line again.
“I do hope you reconcile with your family, dear Mark. We’d love to have the duke and duchess for Christmas dinner in Sussex.”
He’d read it three times before the import of thewords sank in. Lady Whitby knew who his uncle was. Knew it and mentioned it casually in a letter as if she and Nicole had discussed it before. They must have. Which meant…
Nicole knew too.
All the breath left his lungs as if someone had jabbed a fist through his middle. Suddenly it made sense to him, why a countess had agreed for her only daughter to marry a seeming no one in the army. The dowager countess had assured him they expected him to do great things one day, but it hadn’t been that at all. They hadn’t had faith in him. They’d looked at him like the grandson of a duke. They’d approved of him because he was a member of the illustrious Colchester family. And Nicole had known too. Known and kept it from him.
