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“Much,” she sighed and rocked back on her heels. She was pink-faced. “Thank you for saving me.”
“I’d do it again,” he said with a smile. “If you look at me that way.”
Donning her coat again, she allowed him to help her back on her horse. “You really are a charmer.”
Martha and the footman came close and the walk back home was slow and leisurely. Adelaine offered for him to come in and have some warm tea but he declined gracefully. “I think I will leave you to rest. You have had a strenuous day. Never fear, we will meet again.”
Taking her hand, he kissed the back of it. “Keep fair, My Lady.”
Waving at him as his carriage came around and a footman rode his horse, she tugged her gloves off and unpinned her hat. While helping her out of the dress Martha spoke. “Should I make up the bonfire, My Lady?”
Sighing in relief Adelaine shook her head, “No, but you can chuck this corset into the fireplace if you desire.”
Laughing, Martha folded the dress over her arm, “I’ll consider it. What would you like for supper?”
“Use your discretion,” Adelaine said as she donned a thicker gown over her shift. “I trust you.”
Adelaine was in her dressing gown when her father called her to his office early the next morning. She was rubbing the sleep from her eyes but even in her lingering languor she could see happiness on her father’s face.
“Father?”
He was fixing his coat but stopped. “I have heard about the Viscount visits and your time with him. I assume you are finding…middle ground with him.”
Islington had his faults but then so did she. “I find him very intriguing. He has a sense of humor and he is very sophisticated. I am intrigued by his travels and he tells me about the places he’s been to. They sound amazing.”
“Do you think you’ll marry him then?” her father asked.
The expectation in his voice made her cringe inside. “I think I need
more time to make a deeper connection with him. He has told me about a New Year’s Ball his father is putting on. If that goes well, I may give you an answer then.”
“Lovely,” her father smiled. He then wound a scarf around his neck and sighed. “I’ll be out again, but this is the last time. Whittingham will have to make the rest of the decisions himself. I am needed back in London by tomorrow evening.”
“Farewell, father,” Adelaine stopped from yawning. “I’ll see you this evening then. I’m going back to bed.”
He gave her a look of disproval but waved her off, “Fine, fine, go back to sleep. I’ll see you this evening.”
Hugging him for a moment she kissed her father on the cheek then went to leave. The moment she grasped the doorknob Caelan’s words came to her.
If ye believed me once, can ye nae believe me again? I ken yer faither showed ye something to force yer sympathy from me and make ye this defensive, but I swear on me life, Adelaine, I ne’er harmed yer brother…What dae ye want me to dae to prove it to ye?
Uncomfortable, she looked around the room—the autopsy—but then left it. Please don’t let me fixate on this all day…
Sadly, even after she went to bed, the disturbing thoughts stopped her from sleeping. No matter how hard she tried to ignore Caelan’s word they never failed to come back to her. It was tormenting, like an itch she could not scratch.
Adeline was halfway through picking out a dress for Westhall’s New Year’s celebration when she dropped the dress and caged her face in her hands. “Lord, what is wrong with me?”
Sighing, she left for her father’s study and closed the door behind her. If I’ve done this once, what’s to stop me from doing it again? Forgive me, Father…I still have feelings for Caelan.
Beginning from his desk, she searched, skimming through the drawers and working her way down the six drawers on each side. On the second drawer to the right, she found the mortician’s report. It was written on premium parchment and the writing was sophisticated.
Inquisition as indenture held at Glasgow in the Kingdom of Scotland on the 30th day of November in the eighteenth year of the reign of Queen Mary by the Grace of God, Queen of Scotland, under the regency of Mary of Guise.
On sworn account of Johann Wright, gent, a royal coroner of the said lady queen in the aforesaid county, had been requested to inspect the body of Peter Watson, the Viscount of Daffield by Harold Watson, the Earl of Daffield in Northumberland, under the charge of grievous injury on the battlefield of the campaign of Solway Moss in Scotland.
Following the testimony of a one Sir Rushford Cuthbert who swore an oath under the eyewitness of the late Lord being suffocated under the hands of a Scotsman, this corner had examined the body to inspect such signs of suffocation.
Upon a cursory examination the body of Peter Watson it is determined that the Lord sustained a broken neck and crushed windpipe. Around the Lord’s neck are fingers marks suited to the testimony of strangulation. There is a knife cut to the abdomen but it is not deep. Upon measurement, it is a quarter of an inch in depth which is not enough to damage any vital organs.
