Page 46 of The Duke's Wicked Widow
“Danielle,” he repeated softly as he enveloped her in a hug. “I am sorry for your losses.”
If someone had asked her how it would feel to be hugged by a traitor, someone who had murdered and destroyed for his own gain, Ellie would have guessedslimy. But this hug…it was warm and kind. It wasn’t too difficult to force herself to raise her hands and return it.
He seemed satisfied when he stepped back, his hands on her shoulders. “Look how you’ve grown, my girl.”
Ellie managed a sickly smile, lips pressed tightly closed so as not to show her imperfect teeth. “Not that much, Uncle. I believe I stopped growing when I was fourteen.”
His chuckle seemed genuinely fond. “Yes, youdidget your height from your mother, didn’t you?” He beamed as he glanced over her. “But marriage seems to have suited you well. I was sorry when I heard of Rufus’s death.”
Blackrose had fled the country long before their marriage had ever been contracted. The reminder straightened Ellie’s back. “Where have you been, Uncle? How long since you have returned? I have heard nothing of your return in the papers—when did you get back to England?” Too late, she realized she wasn’t supposed to know where he’d been.Bother.“That is, if you had indeedleftEngland. All I know is that you disappeared…and now you are back.”
“I’ve been here for less than a day. I know I should have sent word to you right away—we are one another’s only remaining family, after all. But I confess I wanted to surprise you. I wanted to see you settled in your new home.” He glanced around the room. “I am impressed.”
Suddenly, Ellie remembered the coded puzzles were spread across her desk. Ice settled in her lungs. If he saw them, he might recognize them and guess that she and the others were trying to set a trap for him.
She couldn’t have that.
“Thank you!” she blurted, a little too enthusiastic as she grabbed his arm and turned him about. “Will you join me for tea in the sitting room? I would love to hear of your travels.”
Chuckling, he patted her hand and allowed her to lead him from the room. “You don’t need to hear an old man ramble on. Suffice it to say I was living quite sedately and peacefully in a small town in Canada, when I finally received word of George’s death.”
As they settled together on the chaise in the front room, Ellie tried to pretend as if she knew nothing more than he was telling her. “You did not know he has been sick all these months?”
Blackrose schooled his features into a suitably penitent expression and shook his head sadly as he took her hand. “Had I known, dear Danielle, I would have returned to stand beside the both of you.”
But that wasn’t true, was it?
If Blackrose had returned before Father died, he risked prosecution as a traitor.
But now that he was the new Earl of Bonkinbone, he was protected by the title—he must feel himself safe from trial.
He does not know the evidence against him still exists.
Demon and Thorne and the others…their mission just became much harder, didn’t it? It was much more difficult to prosecute an earl than a mere brother of one. Ellie would have to try her best not to allow any hint to show that she knew more of this business than her uncle was telling her.
She stared down at where his hand covered hers. “He is gone now,” she whispered. “More than a month. And you are the new Earl.”
At her side, her uncle started. “Danielle, you must believe me that I never wanted this.”
Perhaps her sidelong expression betrayed her doubt, because suddenly he shifted until he was only half-sitting on the chaise, and reached for her other hand. “Danielle,” he repeated sternly, squeezing. “Ineverwanted to be Earl of Bonkinbone. That was your father, through and through.”
But…hadn’t Demon and Thorne told her that one of Blackrose’s agents had been tasked with making Blackrose a lord, by any means necessary? To protect him? But that was another title, not Bonkinbone.
She searched her uncle’s sincere expression, beginning to doubt herself. “Truly?” she whispered.
He squeezed her hands again. “Really. George was mybrother. My partner in everything—business, everything. I don’t know what I’m going to do without him.”
Blackrose seemed so sincere.
Perhaps heissincere. If Father was his partner in everything—not just business, but the traitorous activities—then perhaps he genuinely misses him. Though if Father was as evil as he surely is…
Ellie swallowed. Suddenly, the need to decode those messages became even more important.
The arrival of the tea cart interrupted their possibly heartfelt conversation, and her uncle sat back against the chaise. Ellie occupied herself by pouring the tea, making small talk about the service and the tradition.
As they settled themselves, Blackrose eyed her over the top of his tea cup.
“So young,” he murmured, “to be missing so much. I’m so sorry for your losses, my dear. I wish there was some way to make it better.”
