Page 54

Sitting in his study, he rolled another sip of whiskey around his mouth. The burning sensation didn’t do a lot to divert him from what was going on in his head, but it was better than nothing, and he barely winced as he allowed the fiery liquid to trickle down his throat. His father’s decanter stood close at hand and that was all the company he could tolerate at present; unless, of course, it was Meg who came knocking on the study door.

Cursing himself for a fool, he couldn’t stop his eyes from turning towards it once again, although he knew there was no chance she’d be on the other side. He’d seen the determination on her pale face and realised immediately she’d meant every word she’d said; and he hadn’t yet managed to come up with a way to get round them.

Think. Think, damn you, think!

He had no intention whatsoever of going along with her insane annulment idea, but the pain of it was still like nothing he’d known before. It sat like a blade wedged into his sternum, slicing deeper every time he replayed the moment he had heard her confirm his worst fear. For the entire duration of their week apart he’d felt the nagging sensation that something was badly wrong, and it seemed his instinct’s dour prediction had been proven correct.

Her timing couldn’t have been more hideously ironic. At almost the very same moment that all his assumptions regarding her actions five years ago had been shattered, she’d dropped gunpowder into the belly of their marriage and lit it, blowing their fledgling relationship to smithereens. Just when he’d discovered her love had been genuine all along, she’d decided to retract it, and the fact she believed it was for his own good made him want to roar.

Isabella will be pleased at the rift. I wonder if she’ll celebrate, or just carry on with her farcical grief?

His grip on his glass grew dangerously firm. If his sister-in-law had been a man, he would have challenged her to a fight to pay for her relentless wickedness. He would never lay a finger on a woman, however, and there was nothing to be gained by applying pressure on her to change her story. Isabella would just tell the world he had threatened her and then things would be even worse, the ton no doubt believing he was trying to intimidate a vulnerable young widow in order to disguise his own wife’s guilt.

Anger simmered alongside his despair and, resting his head against the back of his chair, he screwed his eyes shut, hoping the resulting darkness would inspire some flash of genius. Meg would only consider returning to Wellbourne House if the allegations connected to her were proven to be unfounded, and to do that he just had to find the real criminal. It was a straightforward solution but still it dangled just out of reach, such an apparently easy thing in fact so difficult Jacob had no idea where to begin.

‘If Sir Edward hasn’t managed to make any progress, what chance do I have?’

There was nobody in the study to answer his question, but he went on all the same. ‘He’s a magistrate. He should know how a manhunt is done. I’m just floundering in the dark.’

He opened his eyes. The flash of genius hadn’t come. He was no closer to knowing how to move forward, but doing nothing wasn’t an option. Giving up Meg was inconceivable and he was about to try closing his eyes again in another attempt to force some sensible thought when there was a tentative tap at the door.

‘My lord?’

Jacob sighed as the servant’s voice came from the corridor outside. ‘Yes?’

‘Apologies for the intrusion. You have a visitor.’

‘I’m not at home. Please ask whoever it is to call another time.’

He rubbed his tense forehead. He’d given instructions that he wasn’t to be disturbed and it was irksome that someone had slipped through regardless. Trying to think how he could salvage his marriage was hard enough without unwanted interruptions, which was why he swore when, without even so much as a knock to warn him, the door suddenly burst open.

‘I knew you were in here. I saw you through the window.’

To his surprise, the person speaking from the threshold wasn’t one of his retainers. There was a servant with the unexpected caller, trying to hold him back, but the boy easily dodged the hands reaching out to restrain him and pushed into the room.

For a startled second Jacob stared at him, trying to think where he had seen the vaguely familiar face before. For a young lad to come barging into his study wasn’t an everyday occurrence—but then the pieces fell into place.

‘I’m sorry, my lord. I told him—’

Rising quickly to his feet, Jacob stayed the anxious-looking servant with one hand. ‘Don’t worry. You did nothing wrong. You can withdraw.’

The other man hesitated, but at Jacob’s reassuring nod he bowed and backed out of the room, throwing the intruder a faintly reproachful frown as he went. The boy didn’t seem to notice; his hazel eyes were fixed on Jacob, and the mistrust in them obliterated any lingering doubts as to their owner’s identity.

‘Peter? Peter Wheeler?’

In response to Jacob’s question, the boy warily lowered his chin. ‘Lord Fernley.’

‘What are you doing here? Did Meg send you?’

To Jacob’s disappointment, Peter shook his head. ‘No. She’d have my hide if she knew where I was.’

The boy peered around the room, apparently reluctantly fascinated by the luxury he’d stumbled into. With his mouth slightly open, he took in the plush carpets and tasteful wallpaper, his eyes widening when he spied the gilded clock sitting on the mantle. He had probably never seen such expensive things before and Jacob allowed him another moment to stare before giving a tactful cough.

‘If Meg wouldn’t want you to be here, perhaps you shouldn’t be. I don’t want to be the cause of any arguments between you.’

Peter’s look was somewhat withering. ‘How would she find out? She thinks I’ve gone into the village for some eggs. As long as I return home with half a dozen, she’ll have no reason to think I’ve been anywhere else.’

The boy turned in a slow circle, now studying the small chandelier hanging overhead. How he would have reacted to seeing the enormous crystal one in the ballroom, Jacob didn’t know, although he suspected now wasn’t the time to find out.