“Now more than ever, and yet...”
When Alexander grew quiet, she eyed him curiously.
“What is it? Is there something more you are not telling me?”
“It does not need discussing now.”
Margaret took his wrist, preventing him from leaving. Her grip on him was weak, but he didn’t shake her off. His skin was cool where she touched him, and she unconsciously measured his pulse with her thumb. She swore his heartbeat quickened. Out of fear, anger, or something more?
“Please,” she said, releasing him. “Whatever you must tell me will not hurt me further. Keeping a secret from me surely will. What has happened?”
Before Alexander could answer, someone new entered the room. Alexander stepped back from Margaret. Immediately, his demeanor changed once he saw who had come.
Carlisle entered with his arms crossed, looking warily at Margaret. Like Alexander, he looked more tired than Margaret had ever seen him. He glanced at his nephew, lips parting in surprise.
“I had not expected you to be here,” he told Alexander. “I merely came to check on the wellness of Her Grace. An impropriety, I know.” His face turned red. “I hope you will forgive this grave trespass.”
“After what has happened, it seems silly to be concerned about propriety of all things.” Margaret adjusted the coverlet to spareCarlisle further embarrassment. “Being seen in my bedclothes is the least of my concerns.”
“Quite. As you can see, Margaret is alive,” Alexander interrupted. “But despite her attempts at politeness, she is in no state for visitors for the time being.”
Margaret’s lips parted in surprise. There was something unusual in Alexander’s tone. Almost like...No.Margaret stopped herself from thinking it and offered a small smile instead.
“You are kind to check on me, Lord Somerton. I am feeling...” She couldn’t bring herself to lie. Instead, she moved her body slightly beneath the blanket, testing its mobility. “My body seems to be mostly functional. Let us be grateful for this small mercy.”
“A mercy, yes. But that you should find yourself in such a predicament in the first place is a travesty beyond description.” Carlisle pressed his lips together. He looked at his nephew. “I assume you told Her Grace what has been discovered.”
“If you have come to speculate, you may spare us your theories,” Alexander replied defiantly. “Margaret has been apprised of the situation. Nothing more needs to be said at this time.”
Carlisle sighed. “Somethingmustbe said, for time is of the essence. I have tried speaking with you privately for days, and yet you have eschewed my every attempt at conversation?—”
“For there were more pressing matters to attend.”
“Matters which have since been resolved. Margaret is awake, alive...” Carlisle lingered at the foot of the bed, fingers tapping against his coat sleeve. “I am sorry, duchess, but I will not be silenced by my nephew nor anyone else. We cannot sit idly by while the likely perpetrator of this fall is allowed to travel further and further from the scene of the crime, now that you have awoken.”
Margaret craned her neck up at Alexander. He stared passionately at his uncle. Carlisle had finally gotten what he wanted. Isadore was gone, but he still wasn’t satisfied. Her heart hurt for Alexander. In that moment, he had lost a sister and an uncle, both.
“How quickly you accuse them without proof,” Alexander muttered. “We do not know whereMiss Bell and Bastianhave traveled, nor the thoughts that premeditated their departure. Any number of things might have happened.”
“Please...” Margaret glanced back and forth between the two men. “There is no need to argue for my sake.”
“There is a need, duchess. A most dire need,” Carlisle said again. His eyes never left Alexander. “My nephew’s inaction in this matter must be addressed. Not even a note from Miss Bell—an impressive display of impropriety. Do you believe me now when I say that she is not who she claims to be? More than a liar, she is an attempted murderer?—”
Alexander scoffed. “Carlisle, you will cease your mad guesswork at once.”
“I am guessing nothing. I am looking at the facts and drawing the only reasonable conclusions,” Carlisle said, lifting a hand. “Miss Bell came under very unusual circumstances, and now she has left under them, too. With your friend, no less. We must determine where they have gone and force them to speak the truth.”
An uneasy silence followed, settling like a weight on Margaret’s chest.
“You are saying nothing we do not already know,” Alexander muttered. “But you will not investigate this matter, Carlisle. No attention must be drawn to their disappearances until we know what has happened. So, unless you have any relevant information you yourself would like to part with, you will leave this room at once and allow the duchess to convalesce in peace.”
Carlisle clicked his tongue against his palate, conceding his defeat. He nodded graciously at Margaret before he left, extending the heavy silence in his wake.
“Do you suspect something?” Margaret asked after a time, not sure what to believe. “No, you could not possibly think... Carlisle could not harm anyone.”
“Before this strange turn of events, I would have agreed,” Alexander replied, eyeing the now-closed door. “But Lady Janewas right. Something is gravely wrong with Somerstead Hall. Why should my uncle alone be above my suspicion?”
The fire hissed behind the grate as the logs settled in the library hearth. Margaret reclined on the chaise near the window, wrapped in her shawl, her body slowly healing from her fall. It had been a week since the accident—a few days since the complete dismissal of the stable staff—and a dark shadow lingered over the manor that not even her husband’s gentle ministrations could chase away.
