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Rapson took the card, briefly glancing at it. He shrugged. “I can’t read,” he admitted, fully cementing Charles’s belief in his innocence.
Charles stepped back out into the street, which was crowded at that hour. As he walked, he considered what he’d heard. Matthew Rapson had been rather forthcoming. He had also been very honest. However, his claims were at odds with the Duke of Tiverwell that Charles was acquainted with.
Charles walked faster, pulling out his pocket watch to glance at the time. He was going to meet up with his friend, Arthur, at the Black Dog. He had just enough time to get over there, if he took a hansom cab.
* * *
The next morning, when the butler set the morning post down in front of her father, Arabella noticed that there was a letter in Mr. Conolly’s hand, on the very top of the pile. Her father did, too—he opened it immediately, his eyes taking in the contents.
She waited, expecting him to fill her in. He didn’t, however. He set it inside of his own jacket pocket. She frowned. “Pappa?” she asked, curiously.
“Yes, Arabella?” he asked, spearing a bite of eggs with his fork.
“What’s Mr. Conolly have to say?” she asked.
“He’s filed the Will,” he replied. “Lord Norton has been kind enough to agree to allowing your mother’s inheritance separate from the estate.” Arabella had suspected that that was the primary reason why they had come to Norton Manor, of all places. Her father was very talented at convincing people. He merely needed time and a good supply of brandy.
“Is there anything about the writing on the wall?” she asked, hazarding a guess.
“Don’t worry about that,” he told her. “It was probably a prank.”
“It doesn’t seem like it,” she said, studying him closely. What she saw in his face surprised her. His eyes widened in anger and annoyance.
“You have nothing to worry about,” he stated. “I’ve spent all of your life making it be so. Please, do not think of it.”
She looked away from him, as though he’d slapped her. When she glanced over at her mother, who had been silent the whole time, they both shared a look of surprise.
Arabella became suspicious. She pretended that she was focused on eating, although she barely brought the fork to her lips. Her father never kept things from her. Particularly things like the writing on the wall. He would keep that letter close. It would be best if she wrote to Mr. Conolly herself.
However, it would be quicker to sneak into her father’s rooms later, and find the letter for herself. With that decided, she focused on her breakfast, clearing her plate.
