Dinner passed as an awkward affair in spite of everyone’s best efforts to keep the conversation going. There was a strange undercurrent that did not sit well with Cleo, and when both earls were preparing to leave, she could not help but breathe a sigh of relief. “I will come for ye in the morning tae take ye tae see Mr. Standish at the university.”
“Thank you.”
“Aye, o’ course,” he nodded his head, bending low over her hand to place a lingering kiss upon the back of it, then stepped out into the darkness.
“There is something more than friendship between the two of you,” Dustshore noted, as he watched Arthur walk away.
Cleo looked up and saw the disappointment on his face. “I am sorry, truly I am.”
“There is nothing to be sorry for. I wish you both every happiness.” Bowing over Cleo’s hand, he placed a brief kiss upon the back of it. “Until we meet again,” he murmured, then he too stepped out into the dark.
“I suppose an earl is an earl,” Aunt Caroline’s voice sighed from behind her. “As long as you wed one of them, that is all that matters.”
Shaking her head in exasperation at her aunt, Cleo shut the front door, then climbed the stairs to her room, shutting out the rest of the world.
* * *
In the darkened street below the Wallace house, he watched as first one man and then another left through the front door. He had been paid to watch the girl, to report on her movements and activities. He stood still, not making a sound to alert the passing men of his presence, both of them passing within an arm’s length of his hiding place. Had he been an animal, he could have reached out with his teeth and bit them. Smiling at the thought, he turned his attention back to the house.
The girl had something that his employers wanted, and it was his job to see that they got it. He had fallen a long way in the last year, once a respected Bow Street Runner, now a criminal for hire. He had made the mistake of falling prey to the evils of drink and had enjoyed himself a little bit too much. In all honesty, he was lucky not to be hanging from the gallows.I would be too, if people knew what I have done. An eye for an eye and all that.
He watched as a candle was lit in one of the upstairs rooms which he assumed was a bedroom as he had seen the beautiful dark-haired girl standing in the window every night that he had stood watch. He was not certain what his employer wanted from the family, but the man had gone to the greatest of lengths to acquire it. He had never before had such a bloodthirsty employer and that was saying something.
I would not wish to be you right now, Cleo Wallace, for all the money in the world.
Chapter 25
Come the morning, Cleo awoke later than she had expected and hurried through her ablutions so that she would be ready when Arthur arrived to take her to the university. Mrs. McGrath helped her pack a basket of tasty treats for Mr. Standish, and Cleo included a note of gratitude to show him how much she and her family had appreciated all of his years of service to her father and the university at large.
It was the first time since her father’s death that she had done anything of a positive nature for the sake of sheer kindness, and it felt good. It was as if her one action of gratitude somehow offered her heart and soul some hope for recovery. She felt herself truly smile knowing that somehow, someway her father’s letter had helped to heal a rift in the deepest part of her herself, despite the torment from reading it.
“The robbed that smiles, steals something from the thief,”Mrs. McGrath quoted Shakespeare’sOthello.With an expression of relief, she said,“It is good tae see ye smile again, lass, and may your every genuine smile or moment o’ laughter be as a knife to the cuddie who murdered yer faither. I am proud o’ ye for nae letting the evil of the world rob ye o’ yer future happiness. I was concerned that it might from the way that ye were pushing the young Earl o’ Irondale away.”
Cleo gave the cook a bittersweet smile of affection. “I very well nearly did let it rob me of my future, but something happened to change my mind.”
“Oh, aye? And what might that be?” Mrs. McGrath asked with her brow cocked in questioning curiosity.
Cleo looked about to ensure that her Aunt Caroline was nowhere to be found before she answered. “Come with me,” Cleo motioned for Mrs. McGrath to follow her to the professor’s study. Cleo took the key from her pocket and unlocked the door, leading the cook inside, then turned and locked the door behind them. She walked over to the desk and unlocked the drawer where she had stored all the secret papers. She pulled forth her father’s letter and handed it to Mrs. McGrath to read.
They moved as one to sit upon the settee by the fireplace even though there was not a flame in the grate to warm the room. Mrs. McGrath searched into Cleo’s eyes, questioning what it was that she now held in her hand. “What is it, lass? Do I want tae ken it?” There was an element of fear behind her eyes and the pain of having lost the closest thing that she had to a son was still quite evident.
Cleo laid a reassuring hand on top of Mrs. McGrath’s own. “Father knew that he was going to die and this,” she gestured toward the paper in the cook’s hand, “is him saying goodbye. The letter is addressed to me and not to anyone else, but I think it might bring you comfort and perhaps a bit of understanding nevertheless.”
Mrs. McGrath looked down at the parchment in her hands and took a deep breath to steady herself before she began to read. The further she read down the page, the wider her eyes grew, and the more tear filled they became. When she was done, Mrs. McGrath took another deep breath, set the parchment down upon her lap, and let it out slowly. “Well then,” she finally spoke. “That is that then, but there is a great deal that I dinnae understand.”
“I as well, but given time, we will find the answers.”
“Ye are a brave lass tae face the unknown as he has asked ye tae do without actually telling ye what it is.”
“I do not feel that I have a choice in the matter. My father’s secrets cost him his life and he has now passed down those secrets to me, however concealed they still may be. As upset as I am with him for it, I cannot abandon him.”
“Aye, well,” Mrs. McGrath nodded one sharp determined nod. “We shall discover what is hidden together then. I am glad tae see Arthur MacDonald’s name mentioned among the rest o’ it. It is good tae ken for certain that ye can trust him, is it nae?”
“Yes, it is. I feel terrible for the way that I treated him, but he has forgiven me.”
“It is understandable that ye would think such a thing. I am only glad that it was nae true.”
“As am I.”
