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As if Mr. Wilson noticed the glint in James’ eye, he continued with excitement tingeing his voice. “I can make sure that this matter disappears. You will not have to suffer at the hands of a traitorous lady and a rake who likes to paw those who belong to another.”
James didn’t have to ask what exactly he meant by “making sure the matter disappeared.” He could already feel his skin prickling under the force of his vengeance, his limbs poised to take out his anger on those who had wronged him. It was one thing to insult his pride, to treat him as if he was nothing more than the dirt under their boot. But it was another thing entirely to threaten his reputation, which he’d spent so long building and perfecting, that would crumble at their hands. He simply wouldn’t allow it.
The expected words of the ton once they caught wind of this continued to echo in his head.
Poor Lord Horenwall...poor Lord Horenwall...poor Lord Horenwall...
The past came rushing back—the eyes that had followed him when he was younger, the whispers, the shame knowing what his parents had done. After all the work he’d put in to re-establish his reputation, he wouldn’t allow the actions of a foolish woman to undo it all.
Being born to a woman who’d been forced to leave her station as a maid because she’d become with child from an Earl. Living his life as an outcast, never being able to fit in to any group—as commoner nor as noble. Forcing his way into his father’s life and letting him claim him as his heir on his deathbed since he had no other sons. James did all he could to make sure he’d lived the life he deserved and he wouldn’t let a scandal shove him back into that dark place.
James could see nothing but red now, drawing his attention back to the man sitting before him. “Do it,” he ordered in a low growl. “I’ll pay you whatever you need.”
A wide grin split Mr. Wilson’s face in two. “I assure you, My Lord, you will be quite pleased by our results. Now, I believe that our meeting is over?”
Not waiting for a response, Mr. Wilson picked up his briefcase and rose. He fiddled with his uneven cravat before he gave James a bow. “It has been a pleasure, My Lord,” he said before turning towards the door.
James didn’t speak again until the private investigator had almost made it outside. “There is just one thing,” he murmured, his anger trembling throughout his body. “I will take care of Lady Elizabeth myself. And you…no one will know of our agreements.”
Mr. Wilson was quiet for a moment, not understanding. But when realization dawned on him, he grinned wickedly and tilted his head in another bow. “As you wish, My Lord. They do not call me the Shadow for nothing.”
A chill rushed through Elizabeth’s body with such force that she visibly shuddered. Minnie paused in the process of pulling the pins from Elizabeth’s hair, looking at Elizabeth in surprise and worry. “Is something wrong, My Lady?” she asked.
Elizabeth relaxed slowly, staring at her image in the mirror before her. Sunset fell around the manor, bathing her bedchamber in a soft orange glow. It had been a very peaceful moment—until a while ago when she’d been hit with the sudden feeling that something bad was going to happen.
“Y-yes,” she said uneasily, realizing that Minnie was still waiting for a response. “I think I am just a bit cold.”
“Oh, please forgive me!” Minnie said frantically, rushing away from Elizabeth to pull the drapes closed. Elizabeth watched her from the mirror, trying to shove aside that uneasy feeling.
Why do I feel like this? Is it because I still don’t know how best to approach Father and Lord Horenwall?
That had to be the reason for sudden anxious state. Just yesterday, right after they’d returned to the manor, William had left again after dinner. He claimed he had a matter to take care of in Bedfordshire and that he might be away for a few days. Elizabeth had told herself that a few days away from him was nothing. She’d been apart from him for five years, so a couple of days would be very easy to handle. But now, she wished he was here.
I should relax. No one knows I’m here and there is no use paying attention to this irrational feeling that came out of nowhere.
She repeated that to herself as Minnie returned to her side. “Is that better, My Lady?” Minnie asked, still sounding concerned. “Would you like me to light the hearth?”
“No, that’s quite all right,” Elizabeth told her kindly. “You’ve done more than enough.”
The worried look in Minnie’s eyes didn’t clear much, but she did as she was told, resuming her task of bringing Elizabeth’s hair down. Once all the pins were out, her hair tumbled down to her shoulders and Minnie picked up the boar-bristle hairbrush and proceeded to run it through Elizabeth’s hair.
