‘Enter,’ he called.
Norton, his butler, opened the door, dressed smartly, not a hair out of place. He looked as if it were the middle of the day and not well past the time when the man should have been abed. ‘A letter has arrived for you, Your Grace. From London.’ Letters came for Tobias every day, so it wasn’t until Norton spoke again that he realised the significance. ‘It appears to have originated in America, Your Grace.’
Something inside Tobias shifted at the man’s words, but he was practised in not showing his feelings. ‘I thank you for bringing it to my attention, Norton. You may retire for the night now. We have everything we need.’
‘Very well, Your Grace.’ The butler bowed his way out of the room and Tobias knew he would not go to his private quarters until he and his brothers were also abed, no matter what Tobias had said.
Opening the letter, he scanned its contents.
‘What does it say?’ asked Edward. ‘Is it from Mr Hornel?’
Tobias normally let Edward take the lead in everything to do with Mr Hornel’s investigation, feeling that, as Edward had organised the man’s journey to America, he was somehow in charge. Besides, lettingEdward take control meant Tobias didn’t have to speak, which had previously been a good thing. Something had shifted recently and Tobias wanted to be the person who spoke. No, it had not been something shifting. It was all to do with someone. It wasn’t just Charlotte’s safety at stake, it was Grace’s too.
‘It is, yes,’ he said, reading over the contents again.
‘What does it say?’ asked Edward again, his voice strained, all hint of amusement gone.
Tobias read the short missive out loud.
‘“As suggested in a previous letter, the couple I mentioned who have been living in Lord Sebastian’s home are his in-laws. A Mr and Mrs Ashby. I have reason to believe that these two people caused the death of Lord Sebastian and his wife. I will outline my reasoning in person. I am returning to London posthaste, and writing this in the event that it arrives before I do to warn you that the Ashbys are on their way to England. I do not know of their intentions, but I fear they will not be good. I trust you are continuing to take good care of my sister.”‘
Tobias didn’t bother with the sign-off.
‘At least we can be sure it was the Ashbys who attempted to gain admittance into Glanmore House,’ said Freddie.
‘Yes, more than one group trying to attack us would be alarming,’ agreed Christopher.
Edward was white, his fingers gripping his glass tightly. Tobias rubbed his forehead, wishing he had not drunk so much brandy. Thinking was much harder through the wall of alcohol. Freddie and Christopher continued to talk between themselves, as if their words could somehow rouse their two quieter brothers.
‘I am going to tell Kate her brother is on his way,’ said Edward, leaving the room without a backward glance.
‘I hope this does not set him back,’ said Christopher, looking at the closed door. ‘He always gets very anxious around change, but really nothing is different from this morning. We have known for a while that the Ashbys are in the country.’
Tobias refolded the letter and slipped it back into its envelope. ‘It has been easy to forget about Grace’s parents and the threat they pose in the summer idyll we have been living in.’ He tapped the report he had been reading before his brothers had entered the study. ‘Not one of my agents has seen them, but perhaps it is time to increase the search. We will think more on it tomorrow. Now we should all get some rest.’
The contents of the letter should have added to Tobias’ sense of gloom, but they were only two people. It was the Ashbys who should feel worried. They were in an unfamiliar country up against him and his brothers. They should feel fear, not him. He would destroy them long before they got to Charlotte or Grace.
Chapter Twenty-seven
Grace had awoken as early as normal, but hadn’t gone to the stables. She’d told Tobias the night before that she wouldn’t. Or rather, she had told Sarah to pass the message on to one of his personal servants that she was unavailable. It was far too humiliating to speak to him herself after yesterday’s rejection. She didn’t have much experience with men aside from her husband. Her life, until she was six and twenty, had been very sheltered. She’d heard rumours, however, of the life a woman could lead when she was a widow. For the few short weeks she had been about London she had received offers that would have made her younger self blush. None of them had interested her, but it had given her a taste of what her life could be, should she choose.
Tobias turning her down was shocking, not just because he was a man who had found her attractive enough to kiss her as if the world was ending, but also because nothing in her life had taught her that men would refuse such an overture made by a woman.
The conclusion she had come to after hours of tossing and turning was that he could not have been serious about his offer of marriage. It had been some sort of cover for the fact that he was rejecting her. He was correct in thinking that Sebastian would not have approved of Grace becoming his mistress and she thought that his proposal wouldappease any guilt he might have in taking her to bed. It had been an offer made in the heat of the moment, one he would have regretted once his blood had cooled if she had accepted. It had to be. A duke did not ask the daughter of murderers to be his wife.
Now it was morning and a faint mist was covering the grounds. It would be hours before breakfast was served and she had nothing to do but wander the house, avoiding Tobias. That would not be difficult. Aside from mealtimes and the time he spent with her, Tobias was mostly sequestered in his study, rarely joining in with the entertainment put on for his guests. Another beautiful day was dawning, and yet Grace felt as if a greyness was seeping into the corners of her world, turning everything flat.
Not a passionate reader, Grace had yet to visit the library, but Emily had waxed lyrical about the room, to the point that Grace felt she might as well see it while she was here. She hoped she might find a few books to read, which would, in turn, help her to stop thinking incessantly about Tobias and his hand splayed against her back, his body flush with hers.
She reached the library and before her thoughts could continue down the path, she pushed open the tall double doors. Cream tiles shone around the edge of the long rectangular room, the rest of the floor covered with rich green rugs. Floor-to-ceiling bookshelves ran along the walls with further ones dividing the room into sections. She walked slowly down the centre, peering into the alcoves. Several contained deep-cushioned settees and others large square tables designed for work. On one of the tables, she found a drawing of the gardens at Glanmore Park, so detailed she half-expected the trees to come to life and wave their branches. A pencil lay on an unfinished area, the artist seemingly stopping in the middle of detailing a flowerbed.
On another was a map of England, spread out with weights holding down the four corners. She leaned over the table, searching for places she’d heard mentioned. Her fingers circled London, wondering when she would return there. Despite yesterday, she was reluctant to leave Glanmore Park. Her friends were here, her niece was here, and although she would prefer not to admit to his hold over her, Tobias was here too.
The library door opened and someone stepped inside. Grace straightened. It could be a maid, but they tended to be discreet and footmen had seen her entering. Heavy footsteps thudded on the thick rug and she knew, without having to check, that this was Tobias. Palms slick with sweat and with her heart racing, she glanced around, searching for a place to hide, but unless she could shrink and disguise herself on a shelf, she was out of options.
‘Ah,’ said Tobias rounding the stack of books nearest to her. ‘There you are. I have been looking all over.’
When they had parted yesterday, he had been tense and cross and not at all like the man standing in front of her now, whose eyes were full of warmth.
