Page 42 of Mistress of Misfortune

Thorne uttered a short, humorless laugh. “I think you mean Meredith.”

“The fire was not started until you both occupied the study,” his housekeeper told him. “The wood collapsed after you took my cousin into the tower. Since the evil work had to be done from a distance, I believe someone in this house is watching the two of you, and attacking when they know you are together.”

What she said rang true to him, but for the motive. “What purpose would it serve to kill us both?”

“I don’t think these attacks were meant to kill, only to harm.” Lucetta looked over as Harshad entered the study. “What did you find above, Mr. Naveya?”

“Black boot marks on the side of the chimney, Miss Branwen, and some broken shingling.” The steward regarded Thorne. “A large brute with careless feet did this. Not one of us, Master.”

No, his men would never be so clumsy, and all of them still wore brown calvary boots issued by their army. “None of the workmen I hired wear black boots.” He glanced down at his own Hessians. “I do, however.”

“I think we can rule you out as the perpetrator,” Lucetta chided. “But I think it wise to perform a search of the house quickly. Someone may be hiding in one of the rooms, waiting for another opportunity to strike.”

Thorne wanted to delegate the task to Harshad so he could go to Starling House to see Meredith. He expected Lord Starling would want reassurances about their engagement, and when to expect the wedding to occur. Lady Starling would likely want her pound of flesh before she consented. Yet in the back of his mind he could still see Meredith’s skirts catching fire. Whoever had done this had to be stopped.

“Summon the men from the stables,” he told his steward. “We will begin in the attics, and work our way down. I want a man on every stair case and terrace. Mind the rot. I want no more accidents in this house.”

* * *

Annie lefta tray outside Meredith’s door for luncheon, but otherwise no one came near her bed chamber. She readied her clothing and belongings for hasty removal in the event her parents ordered her to go, but as the hours dragged on, Alistair made no appearance. Tea time came and went and still no one came for her.

Had Lucetta neglected to mention that she had gone home? No, Alistair knew what she would be facing. Perhaps he expected her to come back to him. Meredith wasn’t sure what to do but wait.

At last she decided she might try to talk to her father, who would have had enough time to calm down, and might be better persuaded to accept her decision. She put on a lavender dress, a color she knew Lord Starling favored, and used a bit of rice powder to help cover the marks on her cheek. She would say nothing against her mother; that was the surest way to rekindled hostilities. Instead she would be forthright and adamant, but gently so.

Knowing the servants would be eager to eavesdrop, and anxious to avoid her mother, she took the back stairs down to the hall outside her father’s book room, and went into the study adjoining it.

As a little girl Meredith had often hidden in the study, giggling when she heard her father’s footsteps approaching. He had always scowled at her as he coaxed her from her hiding place to send her back to her nursemaid, but sometimes she would glance back and see him smiling faintly. He had never been openly affectionate, but he liked her more than her mother did.

Yes, her papa would listen to reason, she was sure of it.

Hearing her parents’ voices from the other side, Meredith stood by the connecting door to listen. Even if she couldn’t talk to her father just yet, perhaps she could find out why they objected to Alistair’s proposal.

“–will do as he’s told,” her mother was saying. “He means to preserve the family honor. He’s been trying very hard, you know.”

“Percival is a simpleton,” Lord Starling replied. “He is too busy preening to be of any use. Just as your sister is witless and useless.”

Meredith winced. So much for her parents’ adoration of her cousin and his mother.

“Our nephew is the future of the Starlings, my dear,” his wife said soothingly. “Have patience. He may not be especially clever, but we can guide him along the path, just as your parents did.”

“I swore to my parents that we would never allow a Thorne to keep his bride,” her father said heavily, as if invoking a sacred oath. “Just as every generation has since Emerson Thorne stole Robert Starling’s betrothed from him, and ruined our family.”

“Yes, but Robert got his vengeance,” Lady Starling said. “I often wonder how it might have been, had she married him instead of eloping with Thorne. The Starlings would never have been ruined. We would be living as we should, not scrimping and scraping on a pittance. Lettice Hardiwick would be begging for my cast-offs.”

A cold knot formed in Meredith’s middle as the words from Emerson Thorne’s journal came back to her.

He took her from me, but I cannot prove it. I only know it in my heart, as surely as I know his rage at being denied his prize.

Alistair’s ancestor had been writing about Robert Starling. If he had murdered Emerson’s wife, and made his descendants carry on his terrible retribution… Icy horror filled her as she finally understood. Meredith’s family was responsible for the Thorne curse.

“Now a Thorne means to wed our daughter,” her father said, snarling the words. “I’ll strangle her myself before I allow it.”

“She will never marry him,” Lady Starling scoffed. “No one will ever again be the mistress of Dredthorne Hall. My dear, don’t you see the simplest solution? He is the last living member of his cursed family. We will see to it that the bloodline dies along with Alistair Thorne tonight.”

Meredith clapped a hand over her mouth to stop herself from shrieking, and slowly backed away from the door. Turning on her heel, she fled.

Had her parents hired a killer to slip into Dredthorne Hall? Was he even now creeping up on Alistair? Her mother had said tonight, so there still might be time to warn her love.

She went out through the back of the house, intent on running to the stables to saddle a horse. Then she heard the sound of a wheels coming up the drive and rushed out to the front, where Percival appeared with his rig.

“Cousin, I am so glad to see you.” She raced to his side. “Can you take me to Dredthorne Hall?”

He frowned at her. “Why should I do that?”

“Colonel Thorne is in terrible danger,” Meredith told him as she climbed up beside him. “Really, Percival, it is a matter of life and death. We must go this instant.”

“As you wish, Cousin.” He tugged on the reins and headed back for the road. “I say, have you given any more thought to my offer?”