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So get on with it, then.
That, at least, was something Sylvia could do. As she placed the envelope back in the false bottom of the trunk and repacked her things, the fear that had propelled her to her room was slowly replaced by the guilt that had been burning through her for days. But there was nothing she could do now. The chance to come clean had passed when she’d placed that envelope in the bottom of her trunk instead of taking it directly to Georgiana. Her friend had been full of understanding when Sylvia had been abruptly turned out of her childhood home thanks to her brother’s reckless spending, but there were some things even Sylvia could not share. Some secrets she needed to keep safe. And shouldering this burden alone would have to be the price.
***
Later that evening Rafe returned to his room ready to tumble into bed fully clothed. And he probably would have, if not for Tully, his rather piratical valet. Rafe had engaged the brooding Irishman, a former navy man like himself, shortly after his arrival in the capital city, when it became clear his visit would be a long one. The nature of his work for the Crown also necessitated both extreme privacy and adaptability, so Rafe was accustomed to making do on his own. But that was before he experienced the unique pleasure of one of Tully’s signature shaves. He was a bit rough around the edges for a valet, and perhaps his hair was too long, but he mixed the best shaving soap Rafe had ever used and was an absolute wizard with a needle and thread. Rafe had been thoroughly spoiled these last few months, and if he did decide to leave London, he wasn’t sure he could do without Tully now.
“Christ. Being charismatic is exhausting,” he moaned as he loosened his necktie. Tully tied the damned things so intricately he could barely manage to get them off on his own now.
Supper had been a prolonged affair. Afterward, he had spent several hours carousing with a few other gentlemen, living up to his reputation as a thoroughly dissolute rake.
“I can imagine, sir.”
Rafe’s lips quirked at the idea of his humorless, hulking valet working a room. He shrugged out of his dinner jacket and handed it to Tully. “I trust you had a pleasant evening?” Rafe noticed a new book on the chair. The man had a ferocious appetite for detective stories.
Tully nodded. “The library is open to anyone—and well stocked.”
“Yes, I believe the former baroness was a voracious reader,” Rafe murmured as he removed his cuff links. “Perhaps I’ll take a look tomorrow.”
Whenever he was feeling particularly blocked, reading helped relax his mind. It was on the tip of his tongue to ask if Tully had seen Miss Sparrow, but he wouldn’t indulge in this ridiculous curiosity. Since her awkward exit that afternoon, Rafe hadn’t seen the mysterious lady’s companion again. And yet, to his growing annoyance, he had thought of her more often than he liked.
“A fine idea, sir.” Tully took the cuff links, jacket, and necktie and slipped into the other room.
Rafe walked over toward the window. There was nothing to see at this hour but black, black night and a blanket of glittering stars above.
Since his arrival, he had made a point of conversing with each guest. It was incredibly tedious, and he resolved toneverhave another conversation about horseflesh for the rest of his life—but it helped him narrow down potential suspects.
Unless there isn’t even a damned moleamong them.
Regardless, tomorrow he would begin searching rooms. Rafe slowly rolled his shoulders to release the knot between them. It didn’t work. He had received a cable from Gerard already, asking about his progress, but he was in no hurry to respond. Let his brother sweat a little. Rafe had never seen the earl in anything other than a foul mood, but that morning he seemed even more agitated than usual. When Rafe had briefly intimated that he might not take the case at all, Gerard had gone as white as a sheet.
But this is what youdo. This is what you’re trained for. You’ve no wife, no family, and no other responsibilities to speak of. You can drop everything and go traipsing off to God knows where whenever you damned well want, and no one will even blink an eye.
Witnessing Gerard’s rattled expression paired with the note of envy in his voice had not been as satisfying as Rafe would have liked. It was true. All of it. That was the problem. For years Rafe had made decisions designed to ensure he remained as untethered as possible. Was beholden to no one other than his superiors. But now it didn’t sound quite so appealing as it once had.
No wife.
No family.
No other responsibilities.
He felt the sharp pinch of regret in his chest while the voice in his head once again warned that it had been a mistake to come here. And Rafe wasn’t used to making mistakes. Gerard would always have more money, more power, more respect simply because he had the good fortune to be born first. But Rafe had his work. Work that he had always excelled at. Failure was never the goal, but to fail in front of Gerard was simply unacceptable. There was no other way. Rafe rolled his shoulders and neck again, harder, longer, until his dress shirt clung to the faint sheen of sweat coating his heated skin, but those tight knots finally gave way to his will. He braced his hands against the back of a chair, panting from the force of his exertions, waiting long minutes until the pounding of his heart subsided. Then he performed a few more basic exercises and stretches to keep his lean muscles loose before washing up and changing. Sleep would come heavily tonight.
And tomorrow he would begin again.
***
The cool fall air stung Sylvia’s nose as she walked toward the folly on the castle grounds with Georgiana and Mrs. Crawford, but she still took another sharp, biting lungful. After spending so much time in the library these last few days, it was a relief to breathe in air that wasn’t tinged with the scent of moldering books, to have the blue Scottish sky overhead, and to feel the breeze off the nearby loch kissing her cheeks.
“I’ve been working too hard. That’s all,” she explained to Georgiana earlier over breakfast in the viscountess’s room. Her friend was still concerned over Sylvia’s abrupt departure the previous afternoon, along with her decision to take a dinner tray alone. “I’ll be more careful from now on. No need to worry.”
Georgiana’s brow remained puckered, and she lowered her voice, though no one was in the room besides the two of them. “Sylvie, it’s been ages since Ihaven’tworried over you.” Sylvia felt a flush that began at her hairline. She had nearly forgotten that long-ago nickname. “But you would tell me if something else was bothering you, yes? More than work, I mean.”
Tell her,a quiet voice urged.Tell her everything.
Instead, Sylvia forced her mouth into the biggest smile she could manage. “What have I to worry about now? I’m here with you, and we’re staying in a castle!” She added a genuine burst of laughter, because it really was extraordinary.
A year ago she had been nursing her father through the last few months of his life, hadn’t seen Georgiana in person since she had been forced to leave London, and was still clinging to the hope that her brother would honor their agreement to let her stay in Hawthorne Cottage for the remainder of her life.
