Page 62 of The Lover's Eye
“They’ve already agreed.”
Giles ran a hand over his face, feeling the prickle of stubble on his cheek.This could not be happening.Especially not now, on his wedding day, when he should be upstairs with Isobel, beginning a new life with the only woman he wanted.
“Mr.Heppel, I got married today.There could not be worse timing in all the world.”
Mr.Heppel had not celebrated his fortieth year, but had a head so hairless it shone in the dull light.He did not seem shocked by the announcement, but instead offered an apologetic smile.“I offer my sincerest congratulations, Lord Trevelyan, truly I do.I promise I’ll do my best to get the business settled quickly, and see to it that you’re returned to the new Lady Trevelyan.”
Right,Giles thought.Nothing will make me want to bed my wife like viewing someone’s remains.He still was not convinced they belonged to Aurelia; it seemed a hasty conclusion to jump to.
With a low growl of frustration, Giles went into the entry hall where a footman fetched his coat, hat, and gloves.He was never more irritable to be a nobleman, to be duty bound to aid in an inquest.But he knew it would only appear worse if he refused.Refusal would make it seem as though he was still devoted to Aurelia, as if his affections were not loyal to Isobel.Or worse: it could make him appear guilty of the darkest, quietest accusations people leveled behind his back.
“If you need a moment to explain matters to your bride, I can wait here,” Mr.Heppel offered brightly.
Giles scowled at him before turning to Finch.The butler was lingering in the entryway with glassy eyes, clinging to any escaping morsels of information about the discovery of a body.
“Finch,” Giles commanded, hardly knowing the words he spoke.“Have someone inform my wife I won’t be up tonight.”
The old man bowed in obedience and disappeared down the shadowy corridor.
“Where are we off to?”Giles asked, skipping down the steps to the waiting gig below.
“Ceto’s Hole.”
Giles was thankful his back had been to the man.He’d have been ashamed for anyone to see the shock and anguish that contorted his face.As he climbed into the gig and Mr.Heppel collected the ribbons, Giles looked up at the imposing face of Cambo House.
He could not see Isobel’s windows from here, could not determine if she watched him depart or kept a light on in waiting.He felt a clenching ache in his chest, a soft feeling amid his mounting frustration.What must she think?
When Heppel’s gig found the coastline, the jagged cliffs appeared like the ends of the earth.Night made the sea an elusive being.A floating cloud obscured the moon and prevented all the milky reflections that usually made the scene pleasing to Giles.
The pair jumped down from the gig, which they had left a good distance from the treacherous hole.Heppel was detaching his oil lamp from the small vehicle when they became aware of more hooves bounding toward them, the thundering beats carried forth by violent sea winds.
It was Pemberton and Bellows, the third man recruited as juror to the inquest, and close behind them the coroner arrived with two little boys.Mr.Heppel must have seen Giles’s confusion by the light of his lamp.“They’s the ones who found her,” he said.
Pemberton leapt down and strode over in the work of a few long, masculine strides.“If these children are telling tales, they’ll have hell to pay!”
The little boys, unfamiliar to Giles, came staggering up, one of the coroner’s large hands at each of their backs.They couldn’t have been above ten years of age, and their eyes were red and swollen.
“We aren’t lyin’ sir, promise!”one said, his bottom lip struggling to not bow into a pout.
“Well, you make a bold claim telling who it is you’ve found,” Pemberton said unflinchingly.“Bold of you to be playing around that blasted hole, too.”
The coroner’s voice was leashed and smooth by comparison.“It will be best if we go on,” he said, “before the tide comes in.”
The party made their way up the coastline in a jagged assembly of gas light, the coroner allowing the boys who made the discovery to lead the way.Ceto’s Hole appeared before them suddenly in the blackness, as if from thin air.
“Woah,” the coroner said smoothly, halting himself and the boys by their collars.Everyone else paused behind.“Is this the place, boys?This is where you found her?”
“Yes,” they said in tremulous unison.
“It’s her, I know it,” one boy continued, “I won’t forget her pretty hair, and she wears that necklace with the eye.”
Giles’s breath stuck in his windpipe.Devil take me.They must be telling the truth.
The coroner, an agile man of middle age, directed the children to stay a safe distance back.He took light steps toward the gaping sinkhole, deliberate in choosing where to place his weight, and came to the edge.
The opening in the earth’s crust was like an evil, yawning mouth; a sheer drop-off with ragged borders of sea moss and rock, giving way to the shingle beach below.At this closeness, Giles realized with a sick feeling the hole was large enough to accommodate a small cottage.
“I cannot see,” the coroner called back.“It’s too deep.Is there some other way—”
