Page 86 of The Duke of a Thousand Desires

Simon stiffened. “I thought I had entrusted her to a husband who would cherish and protect her.”

“I could not protect her from herself. But let us stop this.”

“What do you want?”

“Kieran is a thief, in more ways than one,” Bruxton said bitterly. “I can’t make you trust me, Simon. When Susannah died, I mistook your animosity toward me as grief. I accepted this. I felt adrift for a year after she took her life. I wanted to blame someone, anyone, and I blamed myself. Now I see the truth. He is the one who led her astray.”

“Give me proof.”

“He witnessed her fall. He might have threatened to expose her for all I know. He might have taunted her to jump. You’ve read the coroner’s report of autopsy. Even now I struggle to accept that she chose to die.”

“What reason would she have for melancholy?”

“She had miscarried our child, and we wanted a family. We quarreled when I forbade her to ride in the woods. She defied the doctor’s wishes. I’d no idea that during those times she was intimate with our groom. It was an affront to me, to our marriage, and the child we’d lost.”

“I take it that you will pursue a case against Kieran?”

“Only if I must,” Bruxton said. “Any such action will not further my political aspirations.” He half turned toward the door, glancing at the salver of unopened letters on the table. “I’ve delivered the message I meant for you and your wife. I hope one day you and I shall be friends again. Until then we have no choice but to carry on with our lives.”

“I won’t be able to forget Susannah.”

“Nor will I. She is always with me. Still, mourning cannot last forever. One day I will have to remarry. Lest you hear it from another, I will confess now that I have taken a mistress.” He bowed. “I shall leave you to your own arrangements. I noticed the luggage in the hall. You know where to find me should you wish to restore our friendship. Until then, be advised to watch your back.”

The earl’svisit had disrupted Simon’s plans. Having lost the advantage of early travel, he took time to share his thoughts with Ravenna over a late luncheon of hot tea and roast-beef sandwiches in the small parlor. “I am vastly relieved that you stayed upstairs during Bruxton’s visit,” he said.

“Is there any chance he might be telling the truth?” she asked as they pushed aside their plates in silent accord and moved to a pair of armchairs by the fire.

“I don’t know,” he answered. He stared at her over the gaming table that sat between them, heaped with a small collection of books they had selected to take to the country.

“Perhaps, for your peace of mind, I should return with Aunt Glynnis to Wales.”

“I want you in my sight,” he said firmly. “London is a city of spies and intrigue. Caverley Hall was designed not only for elegant living but for protection. I lived there most of my life. I know the blueprint by heart. I’ll rest easier with all of us tucked within its walls. At least until I can decide the next move.”

“Or someone else does,” she said in worry. “You spent your childhood there with Susannah?”

“She went to finishing school. I attended university and traveled. My brother joined the Royal Navy. We saw each other infrequently as we grew older.”

She looked down at the table. “You don’t believe she could have been attracted to her groom?”

“She mentioned him in her letters. She was an avid horsewoman like you.”

Ravenna had not known Susannah well enough to understand her temperament. Nor, it appeared, had Simon. “It didn’t strike you as odd that she wrote of him?” she said.

“Not at the time. You speak fondly of Isolde. I often refer to Timpkins at the club, no matter what a young rascal he is. I thought she’d accepted her marriage. It’s obvious I deluded myself. Now I don’t know what to believe. I can’t stand Bruxton, fair or not. Have I been on a goose-chase to appease my conscience?”

She ached for him, at the guilt he carried. She could give him many things but not peace. “Did she have a lady’s maid like my Isolde?” she asked. “One close to her who would have known the intimate details of her day? It is difficult to hide a liaison from a confidante.”

His eyes glinted in appreciation. “I’ll remember to interrogate Isolde if I ever suspect you of having an affair.”

“Isolde would never betray me.” She slipped from her chair to kiss his marked cheek. “Nor would I you.”

He grasped her hand. “But if I gave you cause? If I harmed or frightened you, would you not be justified in taking steps to find a comforter, even if that comfort was another man?”

“We will never know, Simon,” she said. “Is there any stone you might have left unturned? Did your sister keep a journal? My cousin Charlotte revealed her scandalous desire for her husband in her diary.”

“What is wrong with that?” he asked in amusement. “A journal is meant to hold such thoughts, isn’t it?”

“They weren’t married at the time she wrote this shocking work. She admitted illicit longings for him. In quite explicit terms for a lady, or so I’ve heard.”