“You’re back to being the Surly Stone again.”
“However,” he smiled, “Iwillapologise to you for making Rosalind promise to keep silent.”
“Did she know of Lady Webster?”
“No, but she caught me late that night after I’d found Daphne and I was covered in blood. It must have looked…odd. Now I must go and see the horses, change and then visit the lady, if Mrs Reynolds allows. Will you be at dinner?”
“No.” The word was strangled. “I will be at the inn but send word if Lady Webster weakens.”
“Very well. Thank you again.” And Stone left the room.
Lucas tried to reason with himself; he tried to tamp down his rising anger. Rosalindhadmade a promise but to never mention that she’d seen the man with blood on him?
Did she believe in Stone that much? Why didn’t she believe inhimthat much? Would she ever tell him the truth of her past if she couldn’t even tell him about Stone acting suspiciously?
His head told him she was loyal to follow her promise, but his heart ached that she’d kept quiet and not trusted him.
Frustration filled his veins – Rosalind’s silence, the murders, Sir Hector’s brutality, the whole damn day.
He strode into the hall, flinging his greatcoat about his shoulders, and headed out into the night.
