“Good. Then we have no further business.”
He turned on his heel, quit the room, and slammed the door behind him. Striding out to his carriage, he climbed in and settled into the seat. His hands trembled. He clenched them into fists as rage rushed through him.
Markham would not stop. He was a man motivated by the same need to protect his secrets that Eammon had. He was a danger. Not to Eammon, for he could crush Markham like a fly, but to Charity—and perhaps, their legacy.
And if Markham was willing to do what it took to get the book, others would be also. Eammon would have to stop them, stop them all before they had a chance. He’d lied about the inheritance already being in his hands, of course. He had gained control of all the financial aspects, but the materials from Pembroke Manor were still en route. Once he found the book, which he knew would be among the items from Lord Pembroke’s study, he’d have to destroy it.
The secrets had to be burned.
Every word Pembroke had gathered—not only on his family but on every family—had to be turned to ash.
And the world had to be told that it was gone.
For only then would Charity ever know peace.
CHAPTER27
Charity
Charity looked up from her book when the front door opened and Eammon walked in. He stepped into the drawing room, his expression thunderous.
“What has happened?” she asked as she rose.
He shook his head. “Nothing has happened. I shall be having a tray in my study this evening. You may have a tray brought to you or you may use the dining room,” he shrugged. “Whatever you wish to do.”
I am to dine alone again?
He had not dined with her but once this week, and even then he had been more than a little distant. Indeed, ever since their passionate kiss at the ball, he’d been distant. No, “distant” was not the right word. He had been aloof before. Now he was downright cold. It felt like living with an ice block in her home.
Did he regret the kiss? It seemed that way. She had been taken by surprise by it. And yet it had been a pleasant surprise. Indeed, even now, she sometimes closed her eyes and thought of it, feeling his lips on hers again, and it provided her a strange warmth during the past few nights.
Yet now, things were becoming ridiculous. He had left early in the morning almost every day, not returning until late. And when he was in the house, he hardly spoke to her other than to command her to do this, that, and the other. She had not appreciated his tone but had granted him grace, for she knew that he struggled with Lord Markham's interference in their lives.
“I had hoped that we might dine together tonight,” she said. “My mother informed me that crates of books have arrived from my father, and I wondered about the rest of the inheritance.”
He looked up at this. “Books have arrived at her home? Pray, what do you mean?”
“Books have arrived at my mother's townhouse from Pembroke. Books for my father's library.” She looked at him, trying to read something in his face, but could not.
He let out a grunt. “They were supposed to be delivered here. Everything must be sent here. I cannot believe there was such a mistake.”
“I do not believe it was a mistake. I had requested that all the books be delivered to my mother's townhouse. I did not wish for them all to come here, for I do not know which I wish to keep and which I do not.”
He rolled his shoulders and rubbed his temples, as if trying to wipe away a migraine or some other bothersome ailment. “Charity, I cannot allow you to go against my wishes. I want all of the inheritance—every last piece—to be sent here to Hayward so that I may go through it.”
“Why are you to go through everything? It is my inheritance. I have inherited all of my father's books and some artwork, as well as the entire contents of his study, except for those things that pertain to the running of Pembroke. They are my possessions.”
“And you are my wife,” he thundered. “Therefore, everything that belongs to you belongs to me. I have told you this.”
She crossed her arms and tapped her foot on the marble floor. “You also told me that I was not your prisoner. Yet it seems as though you are taking all of my belongings.”
“I am not taking them from you. I wish to make a proper inventory,” he said. “I wish to ensure that everything you have inherited is accounted for. Then I shall determine which items we shall keep, which shall be sold, and which shall be put in storage. It is very simple. You having parts of the inheritance diverted to your mother’s home complicates matters. I must rectify it.”
“You shall not rectify it!” she exclaimed, dropping her arms and stomping one foot like a petulant child. “I shall go to my mother’s house, look through my father’s books, and bring the volumes I wish to keep here. I did not know you had such interesting books, anyhow. You possess three libraries, yet I never see you make use of any of them.”
He scoffed at this. “You hardly know me, Charity.”
“Apparently well enough to have you kiss me,” she retorted, dipping her head to one side, her entire countenance aflame with anger.
