He snapped up his head and locked gazes with his friend. “Did you tell me my father and brother died of the plague, yet nobody in the house had the same symptoms?”
“Yes, why?”
“Because,” Julian pushed away from the table and stood, hope growing inside his chest once again, “Alexandria was telling me her sister has been very ill for the past five days.”
“The duchess is ill?” Dominic questioned with a raised voice. “How ill?”
Julian frowned. “Alexandria did not say. She had just mentioned her sister had been ill for nearly a week.” He studied his friend who appeared more worried than normal. “Why does it bother you so?”
Dominic shook his head. “It doesn’t bother me, however, this could mean that Martin is indeed trying to kill another person.”
Julian smiled, feeling victorious, because now he knew he could catch him. “Exactly my thoughts. I have a sinking feeling Martin is working on killing his next victim, and we are going to stop him before it happens again.”
TEN
Sleep was impossible!
Alexandria had lain in bed tossing and turning for an hour with no hope of resting. How could she when her mind wouldn’t relax? Many times she found herself smiling, giggling, and rolling to her side, hugging her pillow. Thoughts of Grey wouldn’t leave her head. And really, she didn’t want them to. Sleep wasn’t that important, was it?
Finally, after an hour, she climbed out of bed and sat at her desk. She readied her quill and ink, and a fresh page. Her gaze fell upon the passage she’d written this morning before her life had drastically changed—for the better—and she brought it under the lamp light and read through it again.
She’d left off with the heroine hiding in her bedchamber from the man who’d killed her family. In the character’s hand was a dagger, and she waited for Mr. Woodland to break down her door and come after her.
Pausing in thought, Alexandria scratched her chin. What this poor heroine needed was someone to rescue her. Someone like... Grey. As thoughts tumbled in her head, she dipped her quill in the ink and started writing.
The footfalls on the floor in the hall grew nearer. Her heartbeat hammered so fast, she breathed slower to try and calm herself before she died of heart palpitations. Who could help her? By now, Mr. Woodland had probably killed all of her servants, so they couldn’t come to her rescue.
She glanced toward the window. Should she climb out the second-story window and jump to freedom? As a young girl, she’d accomplished this feat many times. But tonight was different. Tonight someone was after her, and her limbs shook uncontrollably. It would be almost impossible to climb down a tree with unsteady arms and legs.
However, it was something she must do. She must be brave.
Without another thought, she ran toward the window and shoved it open. Outside the wild wind thrashed through the trees scattered throughout the yard. Perhaps her unsteady limbs wouldn’t be the thing making her fall from the tree after all. The wind would carry her away, to be sure.
Then again, at least she’d be away from this place when Mr. Woodland broke down her door. By the sound of his boots hitting the floor, that moment would soon be upon her.
As careful as she could, she slid the dagger in the pocket of her apron since she had no other place to carry it. Just as she scooted on the window ledge, a thundering noise echoed through the night, overriding the sound of the wind. In the distance, someone shouted her name.
She peered into the shadows, searching for the person calling out to her. The clouds in the sky parted briefly, showing the full moon. She was able to glimpse a horse and rider approaching—a very muscular man with his dark hair flapping in the wind. Her heart leapt with joy. This man had lived on the neighboring estate for several years, yet she’d never fully trusted him. Yet, he was coming to her aid. Why hadn’t she given him a chance before? She’d been so wrong about him. But now...now he was here, and she would make up for lost time.
Alexandria’s smile widened with each second as she wrote about Grey. In her story she called him Lord Greystone, an appropriate name for a fitting hero.
Somewhere in the house a door slammed, bringing her out of her thoughts. She jumped in her chair and swung her gaze toward her bedchamber door. The villain in her story might be fictional, but the evil man her sister had married was very real.
Alexandria sneaked to the door and pressed her ear against the thick wood, but she didn’t hear anything. Carefully, she opened the door and peeked down the hall, listening to the sounds inside the house. Muffled voices floated through the air, and for a moment, Alexandria thought one of them came from her sister.
Concern flowed through her and she wrung her hands against her middle. What could have upset her sister? It was probably Martin. Alexandria hesitated to leave her room to investigate, but now was not the time to be fearful. If her sister needed her, she’d be there for her.
She tiptoed out of the room and down the corridor toward her sister’s bedchamber. As she neared the corner of the hall, she slowed her steps, listening more intently. The voices were still raised in anger, and Alexandria recognized Martin’s voice in her sister’s room.
She peeked around the corner and paused. The door to Joanna’s bedchamber was closed. Dare she intrude upon a husband and wife’s quarrel? So far it hadn’t sounded as if Joanna was in danger. In fact, a few times it sounded as if Martin was the one being scolded.
Suddenly, the door swung open and out marched Martin. Panic gripped Alexandria so she withdrew back around the corner and flattened herself against the wall. Squeezing her eyes closed, she held her breath and prayed her brother-in-law wouldn’t come her way.
Within seconds, she detected a foul scent. Liquor! Martin had been drinking again. Inwardly, she groaned. There would be no reasoning with the drunken lout tonight.
Why hadn’t she done as Grey had instructed? She should have stayed in her room. Now...she was vulnerable to her insane brother-in-law.
Alexandria held her breath and listened for the heavy steps of her brother in law. Would he come to her room? There was really no reason for him to come down this corridor, since her room was the only one in this part of the manor. But he’d been so insistent about finding her a husband and washing his hands of her, that she wouldn’t doubt the man would come to her in the middle of the night, threatening her once again.
As Martin’s footsteps headed in the opposite direction, she released a pent-up breath. Thankfully, the drunken fool wouldn’t bother her tonight. Joanna wouldn’t be in any danger tonight now that Martin was out of her room.
Alexandria remained up against the wall until she couldn’t hear his footsteps any longer. Slowly, she tip-toed back to her bedchamber. There was no need to check on Joanna now, and of course, she didn’t want to explain to her sister what she was doing up so late at night. There was no way she could tell her about Grey.
After Alexandria closed the door, she leaned against it and sighed heavily. Hopefully, she could tell her sister about the newest man in her life soon. She didn’t know how much longer she could keep this exciting news to herself.
She forced herself to return to bed, hoping this time she’d be able to sleep. Within time, her eyelids became heavy, but as she drifted off to sleep, Grey was the one person on her mind.
It seemed as though it had only been a few minutes, but soon the morning sun shone through the window and onto her face. Groaning, she turned away from the light, wanting to climb back into her dreams of Grey. But...she had a job to do today, and she couldn’t shirk her duties. For the first time in her life, she would play the part of an investigator.
Alexandria quickly dressed and then waited patiently—well, maybe not so patiently—for Martin to leave the estate. She stood by her bedroom window and parted the curtain slightly, glancing down toward the stables. He’d already left the house and had gone to get his horse. Any minute now he’d ride out of the stable toward the path heading for the main road.
/> Impatiently, she tapped her foot. Blasted man! What was taking him so long? He had never chit-chatted with the stable hands before so why hadn’t he mounted and left by now? Then again, she’d never taken the time to watch him when he left the house before, so she really didn’t know how long his routine was, either.
Finally, his horse trotted them out of the stable. Martin adjusted the riding crop in his hand before urging his horse faster.
She exhaled a relieved breath. It was time to search his study.
Finding all the courage she had, she crept out of her room, down the hallway to the stairs, and then she stepped softly toward the lower level. She listened for any sounds from the servants, but they were abnormally quiet this morning. She didn’t dare take the time to wonder why. Then again, at this hour of the morning, she was usually up in her room just waking up and ringing for the maid to bring her breakfast.
Her body shook with nervousness as she crept on shaky legs toward Martin’s study. She held her breath until reaching his door. Slowly, she released the pent-up air inside her lungs and placed her trembling hand on the doorknob.
Alexandria’s palm moistened to the point that she couldn’t even turn the blasted doorknob. Grumbling under her breath, she swiped her hand on her dress, and tried once more to open the door. This time it worked and she hurried inside, closing the door before anyone noticed her.
She pressed her ear against the hard wood, listening for the servants again. Fortunately, none were moving about in this part of the house.
Letting out a heavy sigh, she turned into the room. There were many expensive pieces of furniture; chairs, and lounges placed in the spacious room. Against the far wall sat his large oak desk. For certain he’d kept documents of importance in there.
She hurried to the desk and knelt on the floor, carefully opening one drawer at a time. The first one didn’t hold anything that appeared to be secret, so she moved to the next. A few letters littered inside. She took one out and carefully opened it. Thankfully, Martin had already broken the seal and so he wouldn’t know she’d been in here snooping.
She skimmed the handwriting. It wasn’t precise as most women she’d known, so Alexandria assumed it was a man. She turned the page and glanced at the signature. Sure enough, it was written by Lord Fenley, whoever that was. The details inside the letter didn’t make any sense to her, and the contents mainly talked about a trip that Lord Fenley had just returned from in Scotland. There was nothing—not even a hint—about wanting to kill anyone. She folded the letter and placed it back in the drawer.
The second missive was from Martin’s mother. Alexandria rolled her eyes. Naturally, the man wasn’t going to tell, or involve, his mother in murderous affairs. Just as she was about to place it back in the drawer, an idea struck her. What if the old woman was greedy and unscrupulous like her son? Perhaps Alexandria should read what was inside after all.
My dearest son,
I have heard gossip of late, and I fear if this is true, then your life as Duke of Linden is numbered. The word around town is that your cousin, Julian Stanford wasn’t killed a few months ago, after all. However, his body has yet to be found. Although I don’t wish your cousin to be dead, I hope the authorities can find his body as soon as possible so that this utter confusion can be over. A man working for the magistrate, Mr. Franklin, is looking in on this matter for me. I shall keep you informed.
Alexandria arched an eyebrow. How every interesting. Would this kind of news be the very reason Martin has been irritable lately?
After searching through three more missives, she found one written by a woman, and the contents of the letter were most personal. Alexandria gasped and covered her mouth as her gaze scanned each word. Her cheeks heated from embarrassment. Good heavens! How could a woman say these words to a married man? Apparently, the woman and Martin must have been close at one time, perhaps even lovers. The woman wrote how much she missed and wanted to see Martin again—amongst other things.
Alexandria took a quick glance at the date, which was last week. Irritation grew inside her. Could her idiot brother-in-law be possibly thinking of having an affair on his new bride? Or perhaps he was having an affair right now. That could explain why he rode into town every day instead of staying home with his new bride. The cad! He’d better not break Joanna’s heart or Alexandria would have to...have to...
Sighing, she frowned. Who was she fooling? She would do nothing, because she couldn’t even talk to the man without stuttering. And heaven forbid she would do anything violent toward him, even if her mind conjured up many ways to torture the imbecile.
The letter was only signed your beloved Mary. Alexandria shook her head. There were too many women by the name of Mary and it would be impossible to track her down.
Voices drifted from out in the hallway, and she froze. Listening closer, she tried to decipher who was speaking. When Martin’s familiar bark snapped instructions to one of the servants, her heart dropped. The blood in her body turned to ice.
He was going to catch her in his study. He’d kill her for sure.
Frantically, she glanced around the room, searching for someplace to hide. One of the sofas was near the window and pulled out away from the wall enough for her to squeeze behind.
Hurrying, she scampered toward the piece of furniture and slipped behind it. Just as she crouched, the door to the study opened. Martin’s heavy footsteps pounded on the floor, heading straight for his desk. She held her trembling hands together and prayed he wouldn’t find her.
She didn’t dare peek around the sofa to see what he was doing, but it sounded as if he was shuffling through the papers on his desk. He grumbled low, making it difficult to tell what he was saying.
Two very long minutes later, he finally marched out of the room, slamming the door behind him. She remained in her hiding spot, listening for signs that he left the estate. Finally, she heard his voice outside the window and then the thundering pounds from the horse’s hooves on the ground.
Relief swept over her and she breathed easier. Why had he even returned? But she hoped...prayed...he wouldn’t come back so quickly next time.
Being as quiet as she could, she moved from behind the sofa and walked back to the desk. There were papers scattered on the top, and she carefully moved them around, looking for anything that might be evidence in his misdeeds. So far, she’d seen nothing—except for the letter from the woman. But that didn’t prove he was a murderer, only that he was a dolt for possibly cheating on his wife.
She finished looking through his desk, but didn’t find anything of importance. There weren’t many other places to look in his study, so she quietly left. As she hurried away from the room, her heartbeat slowed considerably. Now she should look through his bedchamber. He and Joanna didn’t share the same room, which Alexandria thought was odd since she remembered her parents had shared a room. Nevertheless, it was better this way because then Joanna wouldn’t see her and ask what she was doing.
It still worried her that Joanna’s health wasn’t improving quickly. Exactly what was her illness? Nothing had been explained well at all.
As Alexandria neared Martin’s bedchamber, a thought struck her, stopping her in her tracks. Martin had gotten rid of people he didn’t want around—either killing them or finding them a husband. Was he thinking he didn’t want his wife any longer? Did he want this woman, Mary, instead? If so, would he sink so low as to try and murder his own wife?
Alexandria’s gut twisted as bile rose to her throat. Grey believed Martin was capable of murder, so she must believe that as well. And that meant, she needed to take her sister away from this place, and very soon!
She glanced toward the nearest window, wondering if Grey was hiding and watching her. She really needed to speak to him about assisting her with getting Joanna out of here. But then without the proof they needed to have Martin arrested, what good would it do to take Joanna some place different?
Alexandria straightened her shoulders and rubbed
the ache in her forehead. All of these jumbled thoughts confused her even more. What she needed to do was find evidence!
Making the decision, she walked into his room. The musky scent that had always been with Martin suddenly surrounded her. Chills ran up her arms and she shivered. Yet, at the same time, confidence grew inside her. She was determined to find something. Her sister needed her. Alexandria would save her sister.
As she glanced around at Martin’s personal items, she tried not to feel embarrassed. After all, she was in a man’s bedchamber, which was highly improper. Trying to put the feeling aside, she tried to think of herself as one of the investigators she’d written about in her novels. It was her duty to find evidence no matter how she went about obtaining it. With this in mind, the embarrassment left, and determination grew.
First she went to the armoires. As she searched through them, she checked in pockets or anywhere a piece of paper or missive could be hidden. Nothing was found.
Frowning, she glanced around the room at each chair and sofa. There would be no place to hide secrets in pieces of furniture. Still, she checked underneath each one just to be certain. Once again, she found nothing.
The side room was his bathing chambers, but nothing of consequence was in there, either. Leaving his room, her hopes were low and dragging behind her. She’d failed. The only thing she could report to Grey was the letter from Martin’s mistress. Oh, and the missive from his mother, too.
Either Martin was very crafty in hiding the evidence...or he destroyed it.
Disheartened, she walked toward her sister’s room. She needed to check in on her to see if she was making any sort of recovery. But then if Martin was gradually killing her, was it too late for Joanna?
Taking caution, Alexandria opened the door and peeked in. Her sister sat up in bed, reading a book. Immediately, Joanna’s gaze jumped and locked with Alexandria’s. A smile stretched across her sister’s face.
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