Page 55 of The Moonstone Pirate
Carving an escape route was obviously important to him.
How did it relate to Driscoll’s murder?
Chapter Nine
Imogen awoke thefollowing morning worried Draco would never speak to her again.
She resolved to apologize to him as soon as she arrived at Woodley Lodge, even though she did not believe she was at fault. In fact, it seemed quite unfair that she and Deandra should not be permitted to enjoy an afternoon exploring those caves. Where was the harm if he and Parrot were down there with them?
But he was still fuming over the incident. He refused to speak to her or look at her for the rest of the day.
He would not even come out of his study to bid her farewell when the Burness carriage came around to pick her up in the early evening. She had not allowed her disappointment to show. Deandra would have made too much of it, meddling again and accusing Draco of leaving her heartbroken.
Imogen was not heartbroken over this very confusing man.
“Not at all heartbroken,” she muttered, drawing her covers aside and rolling out of bed to start the new day. “The very idea is absurd.”
Well, perhaps her heart was a little bruised. Dented.
But not broken.
Ordinarily, Imogen would have washed, dressed, and hurried off to the army hospital to read to the wounded soldiers, as had been her morning routine. However, the outbreak of fever in thewards was still going on, so all volunteers remained barred from the premises.
Perhaps it was for the best.
Imogen clutched her stomach as a tight knot had formed when she awoke the following morning. Something felt wrong, but she could not put her finger on exactly what had her so queasy. It wasn’t a fever, for her forehead was cool. Yet something was decidedly amiss.
She nudged her drapes aside to peer out the window and soak in the morning sun, hoping this might help her shake off this unexpected sense of foreboding.
The mist had already burned away, and the sun was glistening upon the waves. This signaled another typically beautiful Cornwall day in the offing. Of course, it would be hot. But the heat never grew unbearable because there was always a soft breeze sweeping off the water to cool the air.
Imogen washed up and then donned a meadow-green muslin gown that was sturdy and fit for outdoors. It was also the perfect color to hide grass stains, should she get any while seated in the Woodley garden. Her maid helped her style her hair in a soft chignon secured at the nape of her neck. “That should hold you for the day, Lady Imogen.”
“If the wind doesn’t get to it,” Imogen remarked with a light laugh. “Thank you, Betty.”
“Oh, there won’t be much of one today,” Betty said. “Perhaps the breeze will pick up by afternoon.”
“Yes, let’s hope so.” Feeling only a little bit better, Imogen joined her aunt and uncle for breakfast.
“Are you headed to Woodley Lodge again today?” Uncle Cormac asked, the question loaded because he was obviously not pleased to have her spending so much time there while Draco was around.
“Yes, and in response to the question really on your mind that you did not ask… No, I do not see anything of the Earl of Woodley whenever I am there. He spends all his time tending to other matters, and most days does not even speak to me.” She did not mention the pirate caves or the escape route he was carving out for himself.
Draco would tell her uncle when he was ready.
“Does he ever join you for tea?” Phoebe asked.
“No, not even that.”
Phoebe took a bite of her eggs and then set down her fork. “What takes up all his time, not even to have a moment for tea?”
“I don’t know. He doesn’t tell me or Deandra anything. Her father, the dear man, hasn’t a clue either. Not that he is asking any questions. He spends all his time in Draco’s library and is oblivious to everything going on around him.”
Her aunt frowned. “Cormac, do you know what is going on? Why is he behaving so mysteriously?”
“I am not at liberty to tell you, love. But I am glad he is keeping away from our niece.” He turned to Imogen. “I think this ought to be your last visit there. Invite Deandra here going forward. I’ll send our carriage around to pick her up if Woodley cannot send her over in his own. All right?”
“Yes, I’ll let her know. Uncle Cormac, is the earl in any serious danger? He is so aloof… Well, his behavior just feels odd. He’s sent more letters off to the Home Office and his Bow Street man.”
