The Viscount's Vendetta (Siren Publishing Everlasting Classic) (17 page)

Glancing at the doorway, she saw Peter. She smiled and asked, “Could you leave me alone for a few minutes?”

“Yes, madam, yell out if you need me.”

Her father had told her once that all old desks had hidden pocket drawers. He had shown her how to find his.

Her fingers trailed along the inside edges of the desk. Nothing. She almost gave up hope when her foot brushed against a rough spot at the bottom of the desk.

Stooping down, she crawled into the opening and pressed against that area of the wood. There was a slight movement. Pulling a hairpin out of the back of her hair she tried to pull the wood out further, but it was stuck.

She wiggled back out and opened her reticule. Inside she found a coin. Climbing back under the desk, she slipped the coin in the slot and put pressure on it. She got a small opening where she could pull the drawer all the way out.

The only item it held was a small, thin, leather-bound journal. Caroline slipped it into the pocket of her riding skirt and shut the drawer tightly.

She had barely straightened when she heard voices heading in the direction of the office. Charles Royston flung open the door.

“Your husband will be most disturbed to find you have been in his father’s study. His orders are that no one is to enter this house and especially not this room.”

“You followed me!” Caroline’s face flushed with anger. “I recall telling you to leave me be, Mr. Royston.”

“I intend to send your husband a letter today informing him of your behavior. I am certain he will be very displeased.”

“My husband does not control my actions and neither do you.”

“Don’t act so high and mighty to me.” Royston put his face close to hers. “I know your marriage is not a love match. And every husband controls their wife’s actions.”

“You are impertinent and have overstepped your bounds, sir.” Caroline’s voice could have frozen him on the spot, if it were possible.

Peter inched his way around the caretaker. “I’m sorry, milady. He insisted on coming in.”

“I understand, Peter, thank you.”

“Go away, old man. You have nothing to do with this. I retired you three years ago and told you to quit working around this place.”

The old man snorted at him. “I’m not leaving ’til the lady tells me to go.”

“Thank you, Peter. Please escort me to my mare.” Turning to Charles Royston, she frowned. “I believe it is time you left, too.”

He stood his feet apart, glaring at her. “You don’t order me around. You’ll regret the day you challenged me.”

Caroline felt a spasm of fear but refused to let him see it. She glared back at him, and didn’t move.

He swore under his breath and strode out with long strides. He slammed the door as he left.

“Be careful, milady. You’ve made an enemy of Mr. Royston,” Peter said quietly at her side.

Caroline nodded and followed Peter out the door. The journal bumped against her leg when she walked out of the house to her mare.

“I’m glad I met you, Peter. If you have any problems because of your support of me, please send word to me at the new house.”

“Old Peter will be fine, but mark my words, you best be aware of his anger.”

His warning followed her as she rode home. Home. Already she loved Damon’s estate. She’d be happy here except for the undercurrents between her and Damon, and now the open hostility between Charles and her.

She urged the mare forward. She was anxious to get back. After lunch she would go to her room and read the journal she’d found.

* * * *

Caroline curled up in the chair by her bedroom window. She had locked her door to be sure she wasn’t interrupted, and then she carefully removed the journal from her pocket.

Dark sprawling letters very similar to Damon’s writing covered the pages. The first page had his father’s name noted and the date, one year before his death.

When Caroline next looked up the room was getting darker as the sun set. She got up and took the diary, looking for a safe place to hide it. Finally, she decided to put it in the pocket of an old coat she’d placed at the back of her armoire, at least for now.

The pages she’d read ran through her mind. Damon’s father was still grieving the loss of his wife, but he knew he had to start paying more attention to his estate and his children. He wrote about trying to regain day-to-day control of his estate from Charles.

Damon’s father had begun to suspect Charles was cheating him. He began to watch the books much more closely and noted an increase in hostility from Charles toward him.

Some days he’d written the pain was too much, and he returned to London, drinking and gambling the nights away. However, he was enjoying it less and began to long to be home more. He was determined to deal with his grief and Charles.

In his last entry, Damon’s father wrote he planned to fire Charles and concentrate on bringing the estate back to its full potential with his son’s help. That was the week before his death.

Nothing in his journal indicated what a man contemplating suicide might write. In fact, it read just the opposite. Could Charles Royston have had something to do with Damon’s father’s death? And if so, how could she find out the truth?

Caroline rubbed her forehead. Damon would think she was trying to prove her father’s innocence if she expressed her suspicions to him. She’d show him the diary, but would he read into it the same that she did?

Her maid knocked and Caroline went over to unlock the door. “Sorry, I forgot I locked my door before my nap,” Caroline said. “I wasn’t feeling well and didn’t want to be disturbed.”

“May I help you change for dinner, milady?” her maid asked.

“Will I be dining alone?” Caroline watched the expression on the young maid’s face as she asked her question.

“Mr. Royston generally eats in the dining room, milady. I’m certain he plans to join you.”

“Then please give Mr. Royston my regrets. I’ll have a tray in my room.” Caroline walked across the room and sat at her secretary. “I have some letters I wish to write, and I don’t have much of an appetite.”

Caroline knew Charles would be further incensed that she would not eat with him, but she refused to pretend a politeness she did not feel toward the man. Let him worry that she might suspect his dark deeds surrounding the death of Damon’s father.

The next day started out cloudy and damp. Caroline had come down for breakfast late and was glad to have avoided Charles thus far. She decided later she would ride to the village to post her letters to her parents and Joan and Sarah.

It was lonely being in a new place with her husband gone. This was only the second day since he left and already it seemed much longer. She was surprised to admit she missed Damon.

After eating a light lunch, Caroline went up to change into a warmer gown to wear on her outing. She had requested the barouche carriage be brought around to the front door. Pulling her pelisse close, she ran through the light rain and quickly climbed inside. As she settled in her seat, Charles’s cold voice greeted her.

“Not a good day for traveling, milady. I need a few items from the village, so I thought I’d accompany you.”

“I would think you would prefer to ride your horse to town, sir. Surely a little rain does not intimidate you from riding,” Caroline said as she straightened her skirts.

He didn’t answer, but his hard stare made Caroline shiver inside. He was relentless in his watching her every step.

“I hope you were not ill last night. It is surprising such a healthy-looking female would have no appetite.”

“Perhaps it wasn’t the food that put my appetite off but the dinner companion.” Caroline sparred verbally with him.

Charles’s face flushed, reminding her of Peter’s warning. Still, she would not let Charles think he could command or intimidate her.

“In the future, Charles, do not assume that it is all right to accompany me anywhere without checking first. Also now that Damon and I are married, you will need to start eating at your own residence and only join us when invited.” Her words were soft but steady.

Suddenly, Charles leaned forward and grabbed her by the arms. “I will do as I please, milady,” he spat at her. “Be very careful before you challenge me. Better men than you, a skinny weak female, have regretted the day they crossed me. You are nothing! I’ll see you gone from here before the year is out. Mark my word.”

“Don’t you think my husband will have something to say about my leaving?” she threw back at him.

“Your husband will believe what I tell him. I will ruin your marriage and there is little you can do about it,” Charles snapped, releasing his hands from her arms and throwing her back against the seat.

Caroline took her umbrella and knocked on the roof several times. The carriage came to a stop. She saw the village in the distance.

One of the footmen opened the door with a questioning look. “Milady, do you need something?”

“Yes.” Caroline nodded to Charles. “Mr. Royston wishes to get out and continue on his way by foot.”

His eyes darkened murderously but he got up and climbed out of the carriage. Caroline reached over and slammed the door shut behind him, motioning to the stunned footman to carry on.

As the carriage pulled off, Caroline glanced back at Charles standing in the middle of the dirt road with the rain pouring down on him. She had made a terrible enemy, but she couldn’t stand to be in his presence a moment longer. She was well rid of him.

Tomorrow she would look for her husband’s pistols. She was thankful for the lessons her father had given her in shooting. Never did she dream those lessons might save her life someday.

* * * *

The village was busy despite the rain. Caroline ran into the general store. She closed her umbrella and took her pelisse off, shaking any drops from it.

“May I help you, Lady Royston?” A tall, heavy-set, balding man greeted her. “I’m Mr. Kingly, the proprietor.”

Caroline nodded politely and smiled. “It is nice to meet you, sir. I would like to look around. I have nothing definite in mind, but perhaps you could direct me to where I can post my mail,” Caroline added.

“Most certainly. I can do that for you, milady. Come right up to my desk. The mail coach will be here within the hour.”

“Thank you.” Caroline drew the letters out of her reticule and handed them to him. She turned toward the door at the jingle of the bells.

“Caroline, how good to see you. Aunt Elizabeth and I have wanted to visit, but we did not want to disturb you and Damon.”

Hannah took Caroline’s outstretched hand in hers.

Caroline nodded to the older woman standing behind Hannah. “I would love to have the two of you visit anytime. Damon has had to go to London on business. I am at loose ends, as you can see.” Caroline blushed.

“Then you must come back to Aunt Elizabeth’s for tea this afternoon. Whenever you are through shopping,” Hannah said.

Caroline saw Elizabeth Brooks’s speculative glance. “I didn’t realize you lived so close to Damon’s estate,” she said.

“Thank goodness, yes.” Elizabeth smiled. “It made it much easier for my husband to keep an eye on things while Damon was gone.”

“He didn’t need to do much, I suppose,” Caroline added. “What with Charles being in charge and all.”

“My husband…” Elizabeth stopped herself. “Will you join us for tea? We can have a cozy talk then.”

“I’d enjoy the visit. I only need some thread and to choose a book to take with me. The carriage is right out front.”

“Send it home. You can ride with us, and we’ll see you get home in our carriage,” Lady Sommerplace insisted.

“I would like that very much.” Caroline quickly chose her items and sent her carriage back to the estate. Across the street, she saw Charles had arrived in town. He watched her and the others. His hate radiated out to her. Determinedly, she turned her back to him and let Lady Sommerplace’s footman help into the other carriage.

Leaning back against the plush velvet cushions, she sighed. At least for now she felt safe.

They hurried through the drizzle to the front door. “My dear, come in and stand by the fire. Such a rainy day causes the air to be quite chilly.” Elizabeth Brooks smiled at her new niece-in-law.

“Thank you. The fire does feel good.” Caroline handed her pelisse and slightly bedraggled hat to the maid.

“Tea, please, Hazel,” Lady Sommerplace directed. “Do sit in the chair closest to the fire, Caroline. Hannah could you be a dear and go upstairs to my room and bring me my shawl.”

“Yes, Aunt Elizabeth.” Hannah hurried out.

“Now we have a few minutes alone. I take it all is not well between you and Damon?” Lady Elizabeth came right to the point.

Caroline looked down at her hands. “I’m not sure what went wrong, but you are correct. He left early yesterday morning without saying good-bye.”

Elizabeth reached over and tipped Caroline’s face up to look at her. “Do you care for my nephew?”

“I don’t know. It is very complicated. Did you know my father, Lord Halsford, was the man the late Viscount lost his money to, shortly before Damon’s father killed himself?” Caroline asked.