He reached for the coverlet and tucked it snugly under Isabella’s chin, and brushed the golden-brown curls back from her forehead. Isabella didn’t wake, but she hummed contentedly in her sleep and nestled closer to her uncle’sstroking hand.
A smile—a real one—curved Lord Darlington’s lips at the girl’s unconscious affection. He waited until Isabella’s breathing became deep and even, then straightened. He looked vaguely surprised when he noticed Cecilia again, as if he’d forgotten she was there. He didn’t speak to her, but he gazed at her so long Cecilia’s heart began to pound.
She cleared her throat. “Good night, Lord Darlington.”
He blinked, then with a little shake of his head he dropped his gaze and strode to the connecting door. “Good night.”
Cecilia stared at his closed door for a while after he left, not sure what to make of him, then returned to the rocking chair to wait for Amy. She must have dozed off, because when she woke, Amy was beside her, gently shaking her shoulder. “Wake up, Cecilia. You can go off to your own bedchamber now. You look right worn out, you do, poor thing.”
Cecilia gave a great yawn, and stretched her aching arms over her head. “It has been rather a long day.” After the debacle in Lord Darlington’s bedchamber this morning, she and Mrs. Briggs had spent the day scouring every corner of the drawing room and entry hall.
“Tomorrow will be another long one.” Amy drew back a corner of the pink silk hangings Lord Darlington had drawn around Isabella’s bed, and peeked inside. “Did she give you any trouble tonight?”
“Not much, no. She’s a dearlittle thing.”
“You’ve got a natural way with her, that’s certain.” Amy gave her a sly grin. “Not so much with the coal scuttle, though.”
“Oh, hush.” Cecilia huffed, but her lips were twitching. She’d confessed the details of the debacle in Lord Darlington’s bedchamber this morning, and Amy, who was a hearty, high-spirited girl, had nearly laughed herself sick.
All things considered it had been a rather humiliating morning. One good thing had come of it, though. She and Amy had agreed to trade morning and evening tasks. Cecilia would take care of Isabella, and Amy would attend to Lord Darlington. They were both well pleased with the new arrangement.
Amypulled the coverlet on her cot aside and plumped up her pillow. “It’s a shame you can’t sleep here. It would save us both a gooddeal of fuss.”
Cecilia hesitated. “It’s an…unusual arrangement, your sleeping here withIsabella, isn’t it? Why does Lord Darlingtoninsist on it?”
Amy shrugged. “He rests easier if he’s nearIsabellaat night. She’s been in this room for a year or more, even before Lord Darlington ordered the third floor closed. The nursery is too far a distance from his own apartments for his liking.”
“Well, this room is certainly closer,” Cecilia murmured.
Much, much closer. The room was nestled between Lord Darlington’s apartments on one side, and the Marchioness of Darlington’s on the other.It had previously been a shared sitting room, but Lord Darlington had ordered it be made suitable for Isabella andher nursemaid.
The arrangement was irregular, but not necessarily suspicious, as long as it didn’t end with Lord Darlington creeping up to Amy’s cot and holding a pillowover her face.
“I came to Darlington Castle after Lady Darlington passed,” Amy said, “But Mrs. Briggs said as her ladyship liked having Isabella close byher, as well.”
Whatever his servants truly thought of Lord Darlington, they were all in agreement about his late wife. Cassandra, Lady Darlingtonhad, by all accounts, been as lovely and kind a lady as one could hope to find. All the servants, from Mrs. Briggs down to the scullery maid, described her as the sweetest of angels.
An angel called to heaven far too soon.
“To hear Mrs. Briggs tell it,” Amy went on, “Lady Darlington doted on Isabella. She couldn’t have loved that child more if she’d been her own. Treated her like a daughter, she did.”
Cecilia’s eyebrows rose. Amy spoke as if Isabella had no mother aside from her aunt, but no one in the castle had said a word about the child being an orphan. “Where isIsabella’s mother, Amy?”
Amy shook her head. “She’s been gone these six months now. Poor lady said she couldn’t bear to stay here after Lady Darlington passed.”
“Where has she gone?” Cecilia wasn’t willing to let it drop. She didn’t like to push too hard, but subtlety had gotten her nowhere so far. It was only a few short weeks until Lord Darlington’s wedding to Fanny Honeywell. Those days would pass quickly, and Cecilia needed answers before then.
Amy dropped down onto the edge of her cot with a sigh. “She’s in London now, and meant to be marrying the Marquess of Aviemore this spring.”
It was the first time anyone had offered any information at all aboutIsabella’s mother, Lady Leanora, other than that she’d been wife to Nathanial Rhys, the current Lord Darlington’s elder brother, who’d died three years ago. Cecilia wasn’t certain what had happened to him. She’d gathered it was some sort of accident, but no one in the castle spoke much about either him or his absent wife.
“But why would she leave Isabella behind?” It didn’tmake any sense.
Amy glanced at Isabella, then scooted to the edge of the cot and lowered her voice to a whisper. “Mrs. Briggs said Lady Leanora thought Isabella would be better off here with Lord Darlington until she’d settled. There was some talk of her going to the Continent, you see.”
“My goodness,” Cecilia murmured. “It’s all rather unfortunate, isn’t it?”
“Yes, and that’s not the whole of it. A few months after Lady Leanora left, Lord Darlington was obliged to dismissIsabella’s nursemaid, Mrs. Vernon. The woman stole a gold crucifix that had belonged to Lady Cassandra that was meant to be saved for Isabella.” Amy’s mouth tightened. “Stealing from a child! Can you imagine? And you may be sure it’s no coincidence those dreadful rumors about the Murderous Marquess started just after she left.”
