She peered down at herself. “It is by far the loveliest thing I have ever owned.”
Thanks to the difference in their respective heights, he had a generous view of her bare shoulders and cle**age. Perhaps she wasn’t as curvaceous as was fashionable. Her life had been too difficult. But he thought she looked better in that dress than Katherine ever had. And her delight in such simple things brought a little of the innocence back into his own life. “Enjoy it. I will treat you well while I can.”
“Meaning what? You will send me away once you marry?”
“I will have no choice.”
Her voice softened. “Will that happen soon?”
“Most likely.” Given his precarious circumstances, it was a small miracle that the Duke of Pembroke was willing to help. He’d be a fool to let the opportunity slip through his grasp. Although he continued to proclaim his innocence, he hadn’t found any hint or trace of the paintings he believed were missing, and that shook his faith, made him wonder if he’d dreamed up the absence of Landscape with the Fall of Icarus to absolve himself from the guilt that plagued him.
Maybe he deserved to swing. Part of him would be grateful to put a decisive end to the matter. But duty got in the way even there. If he was hanged, who would look after Blackmoor Hall? Should he die without a son, the entire estate would pass to Wythe, and his cousin showed no aptitude for running his own life, let alone managing so much land, money and servants. Wythe could barely fulfill his duties as steward of the mine.
“Wythe would not make a proper lord,” she murmured as if she were reading his mind.
“Wythe cares more for drinking and whoring than anything else,” he agreed. “I would be letting down every Stanhope who came before me if I allowed Blackmoor Hall to pass to him.”
“Then you must do everything in your power to avoid it.”
But that meant he should be doing everything in his power to avoid her, because the more time he spent with Rachel, the less inclined he was to notice another woman.
Rachel was so sure it was the storm that disturbed her sleep, she almost rolled over and drifted off again. Rain slashed the windows and wind howled through the eaves but, despite the intense weather, she heard a far more subtle sound: a key, turning in the lock on her door.
At first, she thought the earl was coming in. He’d been awake when she left the study. But she couldn’t figure out why he’d be entering from the hall. She almost called out his name, but a sense of foreboding snatched her words away. She didn’t even have the chance to sit up before the hinges on the door whined.
Mouth dry, pulse racing, she blinked repeatedly, trying to make out the shape of her intruder. She wanted to believe it was Mary coming to avoid the dampness of the attic. But when a bolt of lightning zigzagged across the sky outside her window, she realized who her visitor was.
“Wythe?” she whispered.
He moved more quickly once he realized she was awake and knew he was there. “What you’re trying to do will never work,” he whispered harshly.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He was drunk again. She could smell the alcohol on him, remembered how he’d treated her that night she’d been coming up the road from Creswell. She hoped this wouldn’t be a repeat performance.
“You think you can pretend to be a lady? That some coalminer’s daughter can keep company with the Stanhopes?”
She drew the covers up under her chin. “You have no business here. Get out.”
“Or what?” he taunted. “You’ll call my cousin? Do you realize how easy it would be for me to break your neck? I could throw your body into the ocean and tell my dear cousin that you ran away in the night.”
“Except I wouldn’t believe you.” The earl’s voice shot through the darkness. It came from the far corner of the room, but Rachel couldn’t see him.
“My lord?” she said.
“Go back to sleep, Rachel,” he replied. “You have nothing to fear. I will walk Wythe to his own room. It appears that drink has gotten the best of his judgment once again.”
At first Wythe seemed too stunned to speak. But he soon rallied. “You are making a mistake, Truman. She’s a poor village girl, not worth what she will cost you.”
“I will be the judge of that.”
“But you’re not thinking with the correct part of your anatomy. She will lead you right to the noose!” he responded and stormed out.
Rachel jumped when the door slammed, but only because she was on edge, not because she was still frightened.
“My lord?” she whispered to make sure he hadn’t left too.
“I’m here.”
“How did you know he would come?”
“I didn’t,” he said. “That’s what worries me.”
Before she could say more, the door opened and closed between their rooms and he was gone.
The next morning Rachel was almost sure she’d dreamt that incident in the night. She couldn’t believe Wythe would threaten her life, whether he was drunk or not. She also couldn’t believe that the earl had been in her bedroom. How long had he been sitting there? And why?
She planned to ask him the next time they were alone, but he didn’t send for her that night or the next. He and Wythe seemed to be gone, possibly overnight. She listened for his return, especially late, when she typically heard him next door, but there was only the usual movements of the servants.
When the earl did reappear, his cousin wasn’t with him—a fact that seemed of particular interest to Mrs. Poulson.
From where Rachel hovered at the top of the stairs, just out of sight, she heard the housekeeper ask after Mr. Stanhope. She also heard the earl reply that he was lodging with the Fore-Overman at Cosgrove House until he could bring his drinking under control.
“You put your cousin out?” the housekeeper asked in shock.
“I made it clear that his behavior needs to change,” he responded and handed his coat to one of the footman.
“For her sake?”
Rachel didn’t have to guess who Mrs. Poulson meant; she knew she was the subject of that question.
“For his sake,” the earl replied and started up the stairs.
Rachel waited until he reached her. Then she stepped forward.
When he noticed her, he paused. “Let me see your hands,” he said without preamble.
She held them out for his inspection.
“Better. Already. You are looking healthier every day.”