‘Then I shall contact you, when I have any news.’ He turned away to look out of the window. ‘Have you ordered your wedding clothes?’
‘Not all of them. My aunt is taking me to Bond Street tomorrow.’
‘And when do you return to Arrandale?’
‘In two weeks.’ Grace bit her lip, thinking of the latest letter from Hindlesham. It was polite, cheerful and expressed Loftus’s wish for her speedy return, but there was nothing of the lover in the carefully penned lines and his news seemed dull and colourless compared to the past few weeks in London.
‘I shall be glad to go back,’ she remarked, as much to convince herself as her companion. ‘I fear too much time spent in the metropolis could be injurious to one’s character.’
As could too much time spent in Wolf Arrandale’s company.
The carriage turned into Hans Place and drew up at Aunt Eliza’s door. Wolf leapt out.
He said, as he handed her down, ‘I do not believe you are in danger of being corrupted by the metropolis, Miss Duncombe.’
She stumbled and his grip tightened on her fingers. To steady herself, Grace put her free hand against his chest, it was hard as rock beneath the silk of his waistcoat. He was so close she could smell him, an alluring trace of scents that made her want to cling to him. Or to run away.
‘On the contrary, sir, I think I am in very great danger of being corrupted!’
Oh, heavens, had she really said that? The heat rushed to her face, she dared not look at him, but snatching her hand from his grasp she picked up her skirts and fled.
* * *
Grace went directly to her room. She did not ring for Janet, but paced the floor, confused by the conflict warring inside her. Wolf Arrandale was dangerous, but there was no doubt she enjoyed his company. When he looked at her she found it was all too easy to bury any doubts about his innocence. But even though she believed he was no criminal he was not a good man. He drew her like a moth to a flame and there was only one way that could end.
And she could not ignore the price on his head. The longer she and Aunt Eliza continued to assist him, the deeper they were drawn into the dangerous world of subterfuge. With a little cry of frustration she made a very unladylike fist and punched it into her palm. Before meeting Wolf she had been a truthful, respectable parson’s daughter. She had never lied, never been kissed.
Never lived.
‘No!’ She stopped her perambulations, head up, a new determination building inside her. She had a good life waiting for her. As Lady Braddenfield she could continue her father’s work of looking after the poor, nursing the sick. She could be a wife and mother. It was what she had been born and bred to be. A good woman.
* * *
Grace made her way to dinner that night, resolved upon her course of action. This new restlessness, this longing for excitement and adventure, it would pass, given time. Naturally, she hoped Wolfgang Arrandale would find a way to prove his innocence, but she would play no further part in his life. However, when Jenner brought her a note and she saw her name written in a bold scrawling hand she knew it was from Wolf and she almost snatched it from the tray.
The message was short, merely telling her that a small regular pension would be paid to their mutual acquaintance and that the lawyer was writing to the recipient to inform her of the details.
I would she could know that she has you to thank for this kindness, but that is not possible. Not yet.
W.
She looked at the single letter that passed for a signature. There was no address, nothing incriminating and no polite meaningless phrases of the writer being hers to command. Nor was there any indication that he would write again. She folded the note carefully and tucked it away. It was very likely the next she heard of Wolf Arrandale would be through the newspapers.
* * *
Wolf enjoyed the evening with his brother and sister-in-law more than he had expected. Richard was eager to learn how he had lived for the past ten years, but he took the little information that Wolf offered and asked for nothing more. They discussed politics, family, the lusty baby boy sleeping peacefully upstairs in the nursery. And the future of Arrandale.
‘You talk as if you will never be master there,’ Richard objected, when Wolf told him of the measures he wanted to see put in place. ‘I know I have your power of attorney, but that is only a temporary measure, until you can clear your name. In fact, we should start on that immediately. We will find the best lawyers to represent you. And our great-aunt Sophia, Lady Hune, will help us, I am sure. She has connections.’
Wolf gave a faint, derisory smile.
‘Do you tell me you have not already tried to prove my innocence?’
‘You know I have, but that was before we had your testimony.’
‘And what good do you think that will do?’ Wolf replied bitterly. ‘No, I have considered everything. The only witnesses to Florence’s death are those who heard us arguing on the night she died and then saw me kneeling over her body with her blood on my hands.’
‘But you have found your wife’s maid, have you not? Perhaps she knows something.’
