And while that had been a terrifying experience, Christina did not want Daniel to throw the rest of his life away by taking another man’s life from him. While Lord Northcliffe clearly had an evil heart and venomous intentions toward Daniel, Christina could not justify her husband killing the man instead of taking him to the authorities. What Lord Northcliffe had said to her still made her rather uneasy. There was every possibility that he was trying to create distance between her and Daniel, and yet she had a nagging sense that was he being truthful — that he hadn’t been the one to kill Miss Churston. In the same breath, she refused to believe Daniel had killed her either. But who was to blame? She mulled it over in her mind, thinking about the situation.
Sighing, Christina pushed herself away from the dining table, as she had found herself only picking at her toast, the only thing she could currently stomach. Wandering to the window, she looked out at the street below, her heart growing heavier with every second that passed. Daniel and Lord Hudson had not yet returned, and it was agony not knowing where they had gone or what they were doing. Her mind filled with visions of what might have happened to her husband — fighting perhaps, ending up injured, covered in blood or, worst of all, shot and killed. Had Lord Northcliffe been waiting for them? Had he known Daniel would pursue him? Perhaps the man had organized some kind of ambush, and Daniel and Hudson would never return home at all.
A small sob escaped her. This was not what she had hoped for when she’d agreed to marry him.
“My lady?”
Turning around, Christina wiped her eyes as the butler came into the room, a small sympathetic smile on his face.
“You need not fear any longer, my lady. Lord Ravenhall has just written a note on the chance you were still at home. Here.”
Christina grasped it with trembling fingers, opening it at once.
“We are safe,” she read aloud, sinking down slowly into a seat. Christina realized it was the first time Daniel had ever written anything to her. Funny, she had thought his writing would be heavy and bold, whereas this seemed to be hurriedly scratched. He must have been in a rush. “All is well and has been dealt with accordingly. Lord Northcliffe confessed to Laura’s murder, and I have ensured that he will never bother us again. I shall return soon. I hope with all my heart that you will be waiting for me.”
She stared at the note, reading it over and over before fixing her eyes on the butler who was standing patiently, waiting for her instruction.
“When did you say this arrived?” she asked, one hand now clinging to her chair. “Just now?”
“Yes, my lady, only a few minutes ago.”
She looked at the note again, her breath coming more quickly now as the words finally registered. “Where is he?”
“The boy who delivered it said they were … taking care of things before they returned,” the butler replied, though a strange look passed over his eyes. “He has done this for you, my lady.”
A half-strangled sob left Christina’s throat as she took in what Woodward had said. Daniel had not only killed Lord Northcliffe, but he had done it in her name. How could he, knowing how she felt?
“Shall I fetch you a fresh pot of tea, my lady?” the butler asked. “To restore you, perhaps?”
Christina could hardly breathe, her chest tightening as she gave the butler a jerky nod, though what tea would do, she wasn't sure. She could not quite believe this, having been so hopeful that Daniel would turn away from murder and find another way.
“Are you quite all right?” the butler asked hesitantly, as though a little unsure as to whether or not he should leave her side.
Christina drew in a shaking breath, the corner of her lips curve into a smile she did not feel. “Yes, of course. Thank you, Woodward. Can you have the tea tray sent to my room, please? I need to freshen up.”
The butler nodded and departed, leaving Christina to make her way to her bedchamber alone. As she climbed the stairs, her steps felt heavy, as though she were walking through sand. Her words to Daniel earlier had not been an empty threat. With the cloud of murder now between them, they could never be happy together — not truly. It would only solidify his anger and hatred, and the darkness that threatened would eventually overcome him.
She would stay married to him, of course, but they would never truly be husband and wife.
The door closed with a soft thud, and Christina leaned back against it, tears threatening. But she was almost too upset to cry. Rather, she simply felt empty. She sighed as she looked across at her bed, wishing that Daniel was returning within a different set of circumstances. She so craved that connection with him again, that physical satisfaction, and yet she didn’t know if she could ever be with him that way again.
It was not that Christina felt threatened by Daniel’s memory of another. She knew that he would always hold Laura in his heart, but she longed for him to find room for her as well. She wasn’t sure though, if he could kill a man in cold blood, whether he was capable of true love anymore.
She looked at the adjoining door that led to his bedchamber, where she had never before ventured. She knew her own love for the wretched man, even though he had been so distant. The little she had seen of him when he had been kind and caring was the sort of man she longed to be with. Was he gone forever?
Sighing, Christina turned the door handle, thinking that he had, most likely, locked it, and was surprised to discover it open. The key tinkered quietly as it fell to the floor within the room and, as Christina opened to door to find it, she was plagued with a sudden, fierce curiosity.
She had never seen his room before, having never pried and certainly never considered that she ought to go in without his permission. Now, however, when she had the opportunity to do so, and wanting to have one last connection with her husband, Christina stepped a little farther in and looked all about her.
There was not much to see. A bed, a chair, a table by the fire, and a writing desk in the corner. A door that led to his dressing room, she assumed, was on the opposite side of the room from where she stood, but there was nothing else of particular interest. She recalled that he had not been here long, and had no plans to stay for any length of time.
Wandering into the room, Christina let her fingers trail along the row of books he had stacked neatly along one of the shelves on the wall, her heart breaking at the remembrance of just how much they both enjoyed reading. It was something she had hoped they could share more of as they spent their lives together — but it was no longer to be.
Tears burned her eyes and she fought to keep them at bay as she stumbled back to her own room. Woodward entered soon after, startling as she had been expecting her maid.
“Woodward,” she said, blinking back tears as he set the tea tray down on the small table, suddenly glad that he was here so she could make her preparations. “Will you send for my maid and ready the carriage? I must be going — and quickly, before Lord Ravenhall returns.”
He looked up, concern written on his features.
“May I ask where you are going my lady?”
“To the countryside for now,” she said. “At least, until I determine what to do. It seems I … I cannot stay here any longer.”
“But my lady,” he said, a look of astonishment coming over his face, “Your husband will be very displeased.”
“That no longer matters,” she said, hearing the tension in her voice as the tears threatened to fall once more. “I cannot stay here with him any longer.”
“My lord has done everything for you. He killed a man for you! The man who meant to steal his first woman away from him, and threatened your life. Why would you not be loyal to a man who would do such things for you?”
Christina was surprised at Woodward’s sudden display of passion, but she knew the man had been with Daniel his entire life. Of course, he would be upset on his behalf.
“He well knew I never wanted it to end like that, Woodward,” she said, feeling the misery deep in her soul. “His soul is blackened, an
d I’m not sure I can live like that. And I— Woodward, what do you mean, the man who meant to steal his woman?”
When Christina looked up, she was shocked at the look that had clouded his face, the wrinkled lines around his mouth and eyes hardening in anger. The circumstances surrounding Miss Churston’s death sprang to her mind. Woodward had been the only one to claim to see Lord Northcliffe commit the murder. He had noted Northcliffe’s entry and departure. Christina thought back to her conversation with Lord Northcliffe. So much was difficult to remember due to her focus on getting away from him, but he had seemed convincing when he stated that he hadn’t killed Miss Churston.
She looked up at Woodward now, her astonishment overcoming all other emotion.
“Why?” she breathed. “Why did you do it? Kill an innocent woman?”
“She was no innocent,” he snorted.
She could hardly believe the transformation in him as he glared at her, and her heart quickened.
“Why, the woman had been spreading her legs for Northcliffe, all the while stringing along my lord. I have known Lord Ravenhall since he was a child, seeing him run around his father’s estate. I swore my loyalty to him. My niece worked at the estate of Miss Churston’s father. She heard from Miss Churston’s lady’s maid her plan to confess to Lord Ravenhall and then run away with Lord Northcliffe. I couldn’t have it. I didn’t want to see my lord thrown away like that. He is a good man, and didn’t deserve to be treated with such disregard.”
“So you killed her?” Christina asked, still unable to believe this elderly man, who had looked upon her with such kindness, could be a murderer.
“It was not my first kill,” he said with a shrug. “I fought in the wars, found it difficult to find work when I returned. The Duke of Ware gave me my position, and I vowed undying loyalty to the family from then forward. The woman deserved it.”
His look changed to one of pity and regret as he tilted his head toward Christina and sighed. “I had thought perhaps you would bring my lord happiness. But it seems you cannot accept him for who he is, and you are determined to leave him just as Miss Churston did. I tested you, my lady, and you failed.”
“What are you talking about?” Christina asked, as her pulse raced wildly. Realization struck that she was in just as much danger as poor Miss Churston had been those many years ago. But she had the upper hand now, she thought. Woodward was older, and she knew his intentions, knew how he had killed the other woman. Her hands waved wildly behind her as she sought what she was looking for, trying to keep the conversation flowing as she did. “What sort of test could you set for me?”
“The note,” he said with a sneer. “I wrote it, to see how you would react, to see if your love was true. And, my lady, I have found you wanting.”
Finally, her fist closed over the candlestick, just as Woodward advanced toward her, rolling up his sleeves.
23
“Christina!” Daniel bellowed as he raced into the house, rushing from one room to the next, finding each empty but for a startled maid or footman. He cursed as he regretted the time he had wasted traveling to her father’s townhouse. He hadn’t been sure where to go first, and he had taken the chance that she had done as she said and visited him before leaving for the country. He could only hope that she hadn’t told Woodward of her intentions, for it seemed the butler took his loyalties too far.
“Christina!” he called again, hearing the desperation in his voice as he bounded up the stairs two at a time. Finding her drawing room empty, he rushed down the hall to her room, pausing for but a moment when his eyes lit upon her.
His heart stopped as he saw the blood on her pale green dress, and for a moment, another memory came rushing back to him, the memory of Laura Churston lying in a pool of her own blood. But now, the emotion that filled him was not the rage and injustice that had ruled him for so long, but a desperation that his own wife might suffer the same fate.
“Christina!” he repeated, more gently this time, and when she finally lifted her face to him, it was a sight he would never forget for the rest of his life. Her eyes were wide and staring, unfocused on anything, including him. She held her hands out in front of her, like Lady Macbeth in tableau.
“Daniel?” she said, her voice reedy thin, and he slowly moved toward her, noting Woodward lying on the floor. He didn’t stop at the man, however, but rather moved to his wife, wrapping his arms around her and pulling her in tightly toward him. He knew he should loosen his grip, but he couldn’t let go of her, so overcome he was with the fact that she was here, alive, unhurt. The love he held for her washed over him, flooding through his body like rays of sun on a hot summer day. His relief quickly vanished, however, when he felt her trembling in his arms, and as much as he wanted to keep her tightly against him, he slowly pulled back to look at her.
He caught her chin between his thumb and forefinger and tilted her face toward him. “Christina, love, are you all right?”
She shook her head, a haunted look filling her gray eyes.
“I think I killed him,” she said, her words but a whisper as she pointed at the floor. Daniel let go of her then, crouching down beside his butler. He noted the gash in the man’s temple, but as he placed a hand on his chest, he felt the rise and fall of breath, and he turned to Christina, shaking his head.
“He’s alive, love,” he said
“Oh!” She released a sigh of relief and sank to her knees beside him. “Thank God. Can you — can you get help for him?”
“Of course,” he said. “But come, let us clean you up.”
He began to lead her from the room, sensing she was still in somewhat of a daze when Lord Hudson arrived.
“Ravenhall— Good God!” he said, taking in the scene in front of him. “Are you all right, Lady Ravenhall?”
“Yes,” she said, though her voice was still too strained for Daniel’s liking. “I’m fine.”
“Woodward needs medical attention,” Daniel said to his friend, giving him an imploring look, which Hudson seemed to understand as he nodded back at him, and Daniel led Christina out through the door and into his own bedchamber. He knew he should call for her maid, but he found he did not want to leave her presence, preferring instead to see to her himself.
As she sat on his bed, the life seemed to come back into her face, for which he was vastly relieved. The color returned to her cheeks, and when she looked at him, her gaze was much sharper and focused.
“Christina,” he said, smiling gently at her and picking up her hand. “I am so glad you are all right. After I confronted Lord Northcliffe, we ascertained what had happened — that Woodward had killed Laura, and might possibly be after you, were he to think you meant to do me any harm. Are you — are you truly all right?”
“I am, now that I know he’s alive still,” she said, her breath coming much more evenly now, though she sat back, away from him. “Thank you.”
“What happened?” he asked softly.
“Apparently he set up a test for me. He sent a note making me believe you killed Northcliffe. I — I’m sorry, Daniel, but I decided I had to leave because of that, for the time being at least. Woodward felt that I was no longer good enough for you.”
“It’s all right. I think I understand now,” he said, determined now to put all to rights. “You must know that I did not shoot Lord Northcliffe. He is likely under lock and key, being questioned as to his breaking into my home and threatening my wife. Woodward will be dealt with accordingly. But what matters most is that I have determined my ways of the past, some of the things I have done, that I meant to continue to do … they are over now, Christina. You have taught me what it means to be good, to be true to oneself, and I cannot thank you enough for that.”
He stroked her cheek with the backs of his fingers, eliciting a tremor. “It is all over now, love,” he finished, still looking into her eyes. “We have nothing to burden ourselves with any longer.”
Christina looked back at him steadily as a single tear fell to her
cheek.
“Is that so?” she asked with a sigh. “I am so very glad Daniel, that you didn’t kill Lord Northcliffe, whether he was innocent or guilty. You are a better man than that, and I am happy you have come to see it for yourself. But Daniel — I have realized something. I cannot live like this. I will not live like this. I know you hold an affection for Laura still, and I understand you always will. I can share your heart with her. But I cannot be pushed to the side, treated with disdain, made love to, and then discarded.”
He was stunned at her words. She had said she loved him. He thought they would move on, that all of this was behind them.
“B-but Christina,” he stammered. “That is all finished with. I have put that part of my life behind me.”
Daniel stared at his wife for a moment, taking in her tears and her agonized look, before dropping his gaze. She was right. Despite the fact that Laura had meant to marry another, he had cared for her, and he always would hold onto that with a piece of his heart. But he finally realized there was no need to feel any guilt over the love he now had for his wife. His memories would stay as just that — memories — while he found love anew.
“Do not run from me, Christina,” he begged, grasping her hand as she stood. “I cannot allow this conversation — this marriage — to come to an end, not when there is so much that needs to be said, so much that needs to be explained.”
She turned away from him, sitting down in a chair and putting her face in her hands.
“I cannot stay here, for the moment at least,” she said with such stoicism, it nearly broke his heart. “I cannot be here, not when each day is an agony. I must live with the knowledge that the love I have for you will never be returned, and I cannot do that when I must be in your company every day of my life. It is too much.” Tears began to fall from her eyes.
Daniel stared at her for a moment, his heart slowing down as he took in what she’d said. He did not know how to answer her, finding her revelation both astonishing and yet wondrous. Whether she’d meant to reveal it to him or not, she’d shown him her heart, and her heart was filled with love for him. A love he did not deserve and had not been able to speak aloud — not until today.
Searching Hearts Box Set: Books 1-5 Page 74
