Sinfully Bound To The Enigmatic Viscount (Steamy Historical Regency Romance)

by Scarlett Osborne

  “Have you thought about what I suggested?” he asked. He had thought of nothing else. How they would be married. Where they would go afterward to ride out the scandal.

  “Yes, I’ve given it quite a lot of thought,” she replied. “My heart tells me to do it, but my mind knows that it will be the last that I ever speak to my family again.” She swallowed. “It breaks my heart to know it.”

  “I’ll wait,” he told her. “I’m not going to force you to choose me over your family. I would never ask that of you, unless it’s what you want.”

  She smiled, sadly, then leaned her head against his shoulder. “Perhaps, we will be able to convince him,” she said, hopefully.

  He leaned his cheek against her hair, the soft scent of her rose perfume filling his nostrils. “Perhaps.” He had been warned away by Lord Lutterhall, and knew that this would never be the case. It was up to her, but he could see why she was afraid.

  She loved her sister and her father very much. It would take a lot of strength and fortitude for her to give them up. He didn’t dare ask it of her. She would have to find the strength within herself to do it. All that he could do was to hold her, and then wait for her.

  “On the day that you decide,” he told her. “Come to me. We’ll go, immediately.”

  She smiled, her eyes lighting up. “Where will we go?” she asked.

  “There’s a small church, several towns over,” he said. “Do you know the one in Warwickshire?”

  “It’s gray stone,” she said, a smile coming to her lips. “Overlooking the river.”

  “Yes. It’s just far enough that we can marry and then disappear until it’s too late. I have an old friend who lives up by the Scotland border. I’m sure Lord Hartley won’t mind if we come for a visit. I can write to him, to let him know to expect us.”

  William Stockton, the Earl of Hartley, was one of Elijah’s closest friends from his early school days. They had shared a room in the dormitories, and were as close as two brothers.

  He kissed Diana, knowing that it might never happen. She might not be able to let go of her family. It was a chance that he had to take, though.

  “Thank you for understanding,” she said.

  “You let me know if that’s what you truly want to do. My heart and soul are yours. You will always have a home with me.”

  He could see that she was smiling. She snuggled up against him. He sat, enjoying the closeness to her. When he was alone, this was what he craved, so he allowed himself to enjoy it.

  They were both silent, holding each other tightly. He wondered what she was thinking about. For himself, he was thinking of the day when they would be free. When they could finally be together without hiding like this.

  Something about that tugged at the corner of his thoughts. But what? He had overlooked something.

  “Before I forget,” he said, reaching into the inside breast pocket of his jacket. “This miniature was in with my mother’s possessions,” he said, handing it to her. She stared down at the small painting of his father. It had been set in a tiny gold frame, which was set with tiny sapphires, as an engagement present to his mother.

  “You look just like him,” she commented.

  “Everything but the nose. He always said that I’d taken everything from him, except for his nose.” They both laughed. It was true. Otherwise, they could have been twins.

  “I hope that it will help her to remember,” Diana said. “She might be the only person, other than the murderer, who knows what happened that night.”

  “Did you know the rumors about my father?” he asked.

  “They’re just rumors.”

  “Diana.”

  “Yes?”

  “Do you think she’ll know him?” he asked, gesturing toward the miniature. There was the chance that they were mistaken. They had no hard evidence linking them.

  “On one hand, I hope not,” she admitted. “Because if it is him, then she’s been waiting all this time, thinking he’s going to come for her.”

  “But I also hope that she does, because that will mean that the constable will reopen the case,” she said. “It’s not safe here, not if a murderer is loose. None of us is safe, until we have answers.”

  He nodded.

  “I should get back home,” she said. “I’m desperate to see whether she knows him.”

  He held her face in both of his hands, looking into her brown eyes.

  “Be safe.” It was both a benediction and a hope, one that was sealed with a final kiss.

  Elijah gave her a leg up and into the sidesaddle, then watched as she rode off. He hated when she left. He was utterly alone with his thoughts. He turned back toward Cambolton House.

  Something was still bothering him. It was lurking at the edges of his thoughts. It was nagging him as he entered the house. Hanby came, peering at him.

  “My Lord, a letter has arrived,” he said.

  Letters!

  The thought hit him like a jolt, and he bolted up the stairs, to his father’s study. He opened the one drawer, with the false bottom. There, in the space where he’d found his mother’s letters, he found the other two bundles.

  One was in a lady’s hand. When he opened the first one, he looked down at the signature. There, at the very bottom, in a very elegant flourish, was the one name he’d hoped to see.

  Eleonora.

  Elijah had a solid lead, connecting them. He began to read them, eager to find some sort of a clue.

  Chapter 29

  Diana had left Delilah with the groom, then, she’d snuck back into the house. So far, she hadn’t run in to anyone at all. Closing the door softly, she waited, listening to make sure that she was alone in the hallway.

  She heard footsteps, upstairs, so she pushed herself all of the way into the corner, beneath the staircase. It was frightfully filthy, with dirt crunching softly beneath her feet and her hands. A cobweb brushed against her forehead. Horrified, she remained as still as she could. Oddly, there were heavy boots, like the ones a gentleman would wear. Whoever it was walked slowly, as if they were looking for something.

  Or someone.

  Her heartrate rose at the thought. She didn’t know who could be in there. Her mind immediately turned to the worst thought it could possibly—that the murderer had snuck into Lutterhall Manor and was even now, hunting her down.

  In the darkness, even her breathing and her heartbeat seemed loud.

  She covered her mouth with one hand to muffle her own breaths. The footsteps began to make their way down the staircase. Diana felt sick to her stomach.

  It was easy enough for me to sneak in and out of here. Just think how easy it must have been for someone who’s accustomed to sneaking about to get in.

  She was terrified as the person slowly descended the stairs. She realized that he must have been coming this way all along—he’d heard her enter through the door.

  Just then, the back door slammed open. She heard the person on the stairs retreat as several housemaids entered, with large baskets. Their chatter was so utterly welcome. She remained there, listening.

  “We’ve still got the parlor to do, and then we need to set the dining room for supper.”

  “My back aches already, Louise.”

  “No rest for the weary, eh?”

  “None at all.”

  “Wonder what’s for supper.”

  “Me, too. Probably soup and some bread.”

  “I rather like the soup, I do.”

  “That’s because no one’s paying you for your opinions, eh?”

  “Ain’t that the truth.”

  They walked all of the way up the staircase. Then continued down the hall, still discussing the soup. She didn’t hear them come upon anyone, which only made Diana’s panic even more severe. She did the only thing she could think to do—she escaped back out the door.

  As soon as she was out, she folded her arms. She walked toward the garden, then sat on a bench, staring at the door. She was determined to wait and see
who came out.

  No one did.

  * * *

  The first thing that Diana did when she finally entered the house was to go right up to Eleonora’s room. She was relieved to find her alone.

  “Where’s Mrs. Donovan?” she asked.

  Eleonora looked up from the book in her lap. “I told her to go.”

  Diana sat down beside her sister.

  “Why?”

  Eleonora shrugged. “I feel like someone’s always watching me,” she said. “I’m not a child.”

  Diana studied her sister, who seemed a little agitated. “Is something wrong?”

  Eleonora smiled at her. “I just wanted a little time alone. That’s all. But I’m glad to see you.”

  Diana felt, for a moment, that she had her older sister back. She beamed at her. This felt like a good sign. She hoped that it was. Because she had something difficult that she needed Eleonora to do.

  “I have something to show you,” Diana said, nervously. “I’m afraid that you might find it a little upsetting.”

  “What is it?” Eleonora perked up, eyeing her curiously.

  “It’s a portrait of a gentleman, who I think you might recognize.” Diana’s mouth had gone dry. If Eleonora recognized him, then Diana would have the awful task of telling her that her gentleman had been dead this whole time.

  Eleonora breathed out, her hand going to her chest. “Show me.”

  Her hand shaking a little, Diana pulled out the miniature of Elijah’s father. During her ride, she had stuck it into the top of her riding boot. She handed it to her sister, watching her very closely.

  Eleonora went pale, her eyes widening as they filled with tears. “How…how did you find him?” One large tear slipped down her cheek.

  “Do you remember his name?” Diana was practically holding her breath.

  “Nicholas,” Eleonora said with a confidence that she hadn’t had in a very long time. “His name is Nicholas.”

  “He was the Viscount of Cambolton,” Diana said, hoping that this, too, would unlock even more. “His son gave me this.”

  “Was?” Eleonora’s eyes turned to Diana. Of course, she noticed. On some level, Diana felt that Eleonora had always known this.

  “He was found dead in the cottage where the two of you met,” Diana said, gently. “A few days after your accident.”

  Eleonora’s tears were falling down her cheeks. She shook her head, looking down at the miniature in her hand. “I—I don’t remember.”

  “I think you could.”

  “Diana—I don’t want to.” She sobbed, tears streaming down her cheeks. Her hands shook as she held the miniature, clutching it to her chest.

  Diana got up from her chair. “Eleonora,” she said, kneeling before her sister. “We need to bring his murderer to justice. If you want to get justice for Nicholas, then you need to remember what happened that night.”

  “I know who it is, don’t I?” Eleonora’s eyes were wide, frightened.

  “You might. I think that you were there.” She kept her tone confident, encouraging. It was all in her mind, somewhere. She was keeping it all locked up tight, in a box that she had, perhaps hoped that she would never have to look into.

  “I’m frightened, Diana.” Eleonora’s eyes were wide, wild. She held the miniature away from her, using one finger to tenderly touch the late Lord Cambolton’s face. It was clear that she still loved him. Diana could see it, in the softening of her eyes.

  “You’re going to need to be brave, darling,” she said.

  “How shall I remember it?” Eleonora wiped at her cheek with her hand, sniffling.

  “Keep looking at his portrait,” Diana suggested. “Let the memories come when they will. Just like with the cottage, I think it’ll come to you.”

  Eleonora nodded. “If it’s forced, it won’t come,” she whispered. “Exactly right, my dear.”

  Diana stayed with her sister, while she cried. Eleonora needed her the most right then, and Diana wouldn’t dare leave her. She knew that Eleonora was grieving the gentleman that she loved. Her sister had hoped that she would remember, and then be reunited. But that was not the case.

  Someone has taken him from her. Someone dangerous.

  * * *

  It was late in the night. Elijah had missed dinner, several hours before. Hanby had drifted in, offering him food, wine. Elijah had declined everything. He was determined to get through all of the letters before he went to bed.

  He remained at his father’s desk, reading the letters between Lady Eleonora and his father. His legs felt stiff from sitting for so long. He’d had to get up to light a candle, when the light had faded from outside. At one point, Hanby had peered into the room, asking him if he still wanted dinner. Elijah had declined, barely hearing him.

  What he had learned was that Lady Eleonora and his father had met at a ball at Lord Forstall’s, nearly two years prior. It was clear that they had fallen in love, immediately. They had exchanged letters for a while, running into each other from time to time.

  It wasn’t clear why they had begun to meet up in the cottage. They alluded to some occurrence, something that was keeping them from being able to do things properly. He wished that they had hashed it out, so that then he would have known. Elijah realized that they wouldn’t have had to say—they both already knew. Why talk about it in their letters?

  They would have never assumed that anyone would be reading them like this.

  He felt a dark shadow pass over him. Dread, as real and awful as a ghost, rising up over him. It must have been very bad, indeed. He wondered what could have possibly forced his father and Lady Eleonora to keep their own love a secret. As far as Elijah could tell, the rest of the family at Lutterhall Manor hadn’t even known his father.

  Diana would never keep something like that from him. She had only known his father in passing. They were acquaintances, but nothing more. Lord Lutterhall had never even brought him up when he had spoken to Elijah.

  Why keep their affair so secret?

  His father hadn’t even mentioned it to Elijah, in the letters that he sent to him every week. There was still a lot that he was missing. But he now had tangible evidence, linking Lady Eleonora with his father.

  Along with Lady Eleonora’s confirmation, it would be enough for the constable to reopen the investigation, looking at it from a new angle. Elijah was nervous—that would mean that the constable would have to question Lord Lutterhall, who would wonder where the connection had come from. It might reveal Elijah and Diana’s secret meetings. As well as Lady Eleonora and his father’s.

  Lord Lutterhall will be most displeased.

  * * *

  Diana met her father downstairs. She was tired. She had been up until late the night before, comforting Eleonora. Nothing more had come about. No new memories, just raw outpouring of grief. All that she’d been able to do was sit there, her heart breaking for her sister.

  She just couldn’t imagine what it would be like—if she lost Elijah, she didn’t know what she’d do. The despair of it would be unrelenting. She was eager to speak to him, so that she could tell him the news.

  “You asked for me?” she murmured. It looked like he was leaving. London was a two-hour ride away. He often went in, to check on the family’s finances, as well as his business interests.

  “How is your sister this morning?” he asked. Diana had missed dinner the night before.

  “Sleeping, still.” She didn’t want to say anything. He couldn’t know about the miniature. Then, she would have to explain where she’d gotten it from.

  “Did she say why she was so upset?” Concern etched its way across his features.

  Diana sighed, shaking her head. He couldn’t know. Not yet, at least. She knew that she would have to explain, once she and Elijah had made plans to tell the constable, for he would certainly want to question her father. He had been in the woods, searching for Eleonora.

  Diana knew that her father hadn’t seen anything. She suspected th
at her sister had fled the murderer on horseback, then fallen while trying to escape. Had her father seen anything suspicious, he certainly would have said something.

  “I’m on my way to London,” he said, tugging his leather riding gloves on. “I have some business to attend to. While I’m there, I will begin to search for a suitable husband for you.”