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"Here's what I've been able to piece together. Connie Scarcliff was actually Connie Daniels who was living with the Earl and caring for him in his final years. After learning the identity of the woman posing as your wife, I started searching for your actual wife and checked all the places that couples may run off to get married, including Greta Green, and that is where I found this."
He handed Archer a sheet of paper that had been torn from some type of journal and there scratched in ink was the marriage of Viscount Archer Scarcliff to Morgan O' Cuinn, dated August 29, 1698. Archer turned to Quinn and she could see his pain and confusion before he whispered, "I knew it."
Quinn felt his pain and some of her own knowing now the name of that unknown woman, a woman Archer had clearly loved. She turned to Mr. Grant. "Any idea what happened to her?"
Mr. Grant's voice was very soft when he replied, "She died in childbirth."
Quinn was watching Archer and saw his face crumble in agony at the news that his beloved wife had died bringing Nicholas into the world. Mr. Grant continued on.
"The late Earl wasn't happy that Lord Scarcliff had married a commoner and when she died, Lord Scarcliff fell gravely ill and almost died himself." Mr. Grant turned his attention to Archer before he continued. "It was then that your father concocted the plan to manipulate you into believing that his nurse was really your wife. Why he did so I don't know, except based on everything I've heard about the man, he was vile and unforgiving. As you know, your father died shortly after you recovered so whether he intended to right the wrong he had done you, we'll never know. Miss Daniels apparently died during the time she was masquerading as your wife yet there is no record of her death and actually, stranger still, she seems to have quite literally disappeared."
"Excuse me." Archer turned and left the room. Quinn wanted to follow him but she knew he needed this time alone to deal with this tremendous blow. Honestly, she wasn't sure she could keep herself together knowing that who he believed she was, she really wasn't. Would that change how her felt about her or acted around her she wondered?
And the late Earl. Quinn hated Archer's father in that moment. He didn't even allow his son to grieve for his lost wife. And what was the point in tricking Archer into believing Connie Daniels was his wife? Was it control or was there something more there? Her mind was racing over Miss Daniels and her disappearing act, but Quinn knew there was one more question she needed to ask: "Where is Archer's wife buried?"
"In the village cemetery by Whispering Winds."
"Thank you, Mr. Grant."
"If there is nothing further," Mr. Grant bowed deeply.
"Actually, there is something else. We need your assistance with looking into Miss Katherine Danvers. Here's what we know." And Quinn proceeded to tell the story.
Quinn found Archer standing in the small garden behind the townhouse but he looked lost in thought so when he spoke it startled her.
"I loved her, Quinn. She gave me a son and I never honored her by mourning her properly."
"She was laid to rest in the village cemetery."
Wounded eyes looked into hers and he moved to close the distance between them before he framed Quinn's face with his hands. "I loved her, but I love you more. Does that make me a bad person?"
The sob escaped her lips before she could stop it. It was wrong, how she felt about his words was wrong, but she moved into him and wrapped her arms around his waist as her cheek came to rest over his heart. "No darling, but I'm a bad person for actually finding joy in your words."
Archer's reaction to that was an emphatic denial. "No, you're not. She was my past and you are my everything."
And then he kissed her and for a good long time they thought of nothing else but each other.
When they later returned to the house, Archer no longer looked haunted. It seemed knowing the truth gave him a measure of peace and when they returned to Whispering Winds he had a place to go to say good-bye to the woman that he had loved and lost.
Quinn grieved for him and Nickie, for the woman whose life was too short, but she was happy that Archer had found closure. He seemed happier, probably because his ghosts were at peace, and she hoped he remained so after he learned what she was up to.
Several days later Sara and Quinn spent most of the day sewing but by the time the carriage pulled up in front of the townhouse Quinn was ready.
"I can't believe I agreed to help you with this," Sara sighed as she finished twisting Quinn's long hair into a knot so the hat they borrowed from Archer could cover it. "It's scandalous. When the Lord finds out I helped you, he's going to turn me out onto the streets."
"No, he won't," Quinn promised.
Sara dropped her hands to her side and took a step back. "You're done."
Quinn stood and turned. "How do I look?"
"You look like a man but can you act like one?"
Quinn had watched Archer's movements very closely and mimicked his easy but deliberate stride. Sara's giggle made Quinn turn quickly and look at her expectantly.
"You even walk like man. I think you might just pull this off."
Quinn's grin was wicked. "They won't even know I'm there."
