Page 65 of A Baron's Disguised Lady
“What can I do? If Michael wants to break off the engagement, so be it. What’s the point in marrying miserably?” Archie asked.
Michael Warrington had been Archie’s closest friend when he was a boy. They had grown up together. Michael was the only son of a prominent recusant family in the district, and the Thompsons and the Warringtons shared a long and entwined history. But like Gwendolene and Penelope, Archie and Michael had drifted apart in recent years, and it had been some weeks since they had last seen one another.
“Well, you could talk to him,” his mother said, but Archie shook his head.
“Let Lavinia talk to Penelope first. We don’t know either side of the story. Besides, I’ve got more pressing matters to see to,” Archie said.
His mother looked at him and sighed.
“Oh, Archie… what about Lord Bath? Are you still intent on pursuing him?” his mother asked.
Archie nodded. Despite what he had told Lavinia, he still suspected Lord Bath to be the culprit behind Gwendolene’smurder. He had motive—if Gwendolene had spurned his declaration of love—and was surely capable of such an act.
“I am, yes, mother. I think he did it. I don’t see how it could be anyone else. I know I don’t have proof, but until I know otherwise…” Archie said.
But it was the question ofotherwisethat perplexed him, and Archie knew he needed something more. He needed proof of what Gwendolene really thought of Lord Bath, to ensure a conviction could be upheld. He had resolved to search his sister’s room again, looking for something to prove his suspicions concerning Gwendolene’s lover.
“You don’t think it could be someone else?” Octavia asked, but Archie shook his head.
“No, I don’t,” he replied, and he refused any further questioning on the part of his mother or Octavia.
After breakfast, Archie made his way upstairs, pausing outside his sister’s bedroom, and questioning himself as to his motives. It felt once again like a violation. Reading Gwendolene’s diary had been bad enough. But to search through her most personal possessions…
What choice do I have?he thought, as he opened the door.
Whenever he entered Gwendolene’s bedroom, Archie expected to find her there. It was entirely irrational, of course. But he could not help but hope to awake as though from a dream, finding her sitting up in bed and smiling at him. But just as every time he opened the door, Gwendolene was not there.
The bed was made, the curtains pulled back, the room neat and tidy—just as Gwendolene herself would have had it. Archie closed the door behind him and sat down on the bed. The faintest scent of Gwendolene’s perfume hung in the air; the last vestige of her presence. But it was fading, little by little, and eventually, Archie knew there would be no scent remaining.
What did you know, Gwendolene? What secret were you hiding?
Archie looked around the room, and his eyes fell on the dressing table, with its drawers on either side. Taking a deep breath, he rose to his feet and opened the top draw on the left. It was filled with jewelry, and Archie recognized several pieces he had given his sister as presents in years gone by. One of them, in particular, stood out; a broach, oval in shape, diamond encrusted and studded with pearls.
It had been Archie’s present to his sister on her eighteenth birthday, and now he took it up, holding it up to the light and examining it. The sight of it brought back all sorts of memories for Archie, but a sudden thought now occurred to him. He wouldgive the broach to Lavinia. She had done so much to help him—so much to help Gwendolene, too—surely she deserved some token of gratitude.
“You don’t mind, do you, Gwendolene?” he asked, speaking out loud as he glanced back at the empty bed.
He wondered what Gwendolene would have thought of Lavinia. He hoped she would have looked favorably on any match between them. He felt certain she would. But the question of a match was what now played on his mind. His feelings for Lavinia were growing stronger by the day. He was falling in love with her, even as it felt strange to admit it.
They had argued, but their argument, and its reconciliation, had brought them closer together. There was no doubt in Archie’s mind as to his feelings for Gwendolene, and the broach would surely serve as a token for those feelings, even as he was uncertain what would come next.
Come along, you’ve got work to do,Archie reminded himself, and now he pocketed the broach and closed the drawer, opening the next one down.
It was filled with letters and taking a deep breath—for it still felt like a violation—Archie took out the first, unfolding it and beginning to read. It was a letter from Lord Bath, but to his disappointment, it once again spoke only of the deep love he possessed for Gwendolene.
An unquenchable love, reaching to the very depths of my soul, where the fire of my love burns brightly for you, my darling Gwendolene. I am your Eros, sent by Aphrodite…
Archie rolled his eyes. But there could be no question of his feelings toward Gwendolene, and as Archie continued to search, he found only further proof of Lord Bath’s love, and nothing to suggest he was the murderer.
Chapter 23
The lodge at the far end of the east drive proved a longer walk than Lavinia had expected. The drive wound its way through a plantation of ancient oak trees, their gnarled trunks rising to leafy boughs above, covering the drive in dappled shade, and at one point, Lavinia crossed over a handsome stone bridge, beneath which a gushing stream flowed.
The estate surrounding Sarum Lacy House never failed to astonish her with its beauty, and as she walked, Lavinia became lost in her thoughts, wondering what she would discover from Penelope, and whether it would prove useful to she and Archie’s cause.
I wonder what she’s like? Daisy didn’t think much of her,Lavinia thought to herself, though she knew from experience it was the prerogative of a servant to think ill of their betters—until proved otherwise.
Still, there was a question involved; that of what had occurred between Gwendolene and Penelope to cause a rift between them. Could it be motive enough for murder? A sudden shiver ran through her at the thought, and Lavinia paused, wondering whether it really was a good idea to seek an audience with a woman who—for whatever reason—had shied away from Gwendolene in those lost weeks of her life.
