The last comment sparked a reaction. “Now I know you’re lying. A solicitor must keep his client’s confidence.”
“Ordinarily, but the Home Secretary gave me a letter forcing your solicitor to comply.” She reached into her reticule and showed Lady Lucille the document. “As you can see, your business dealings are a matter of national interest. Tell me your secret, or I shall have no choice but to visit you at home.”
Eleanor expected a verbal attack—the bite of a viper—but the lady’s hand shook violently, and her voice broke. “Stop this. You don’t know what trouble it will cause. It will be the death of me. I beg you. Walk away. Pretend I never asked you to deliver my silly notes.”
Paying a fiancé’s debts hardly warranted this reaction. It confirmed what Eleanor already knew, that they were unaware of the real problem.
Eager to ensure no one discovered the truth, Lady Lucille exclaimed, “Has a man ever hurt you, Miss Darrow? Has he ever treated you like your life doesn’t matter? If so, I beg you to show mercy and forget everything you have learned.”
Bitter memories of her father flooded Eleanor’s mind. The times he had forced her to stay awake all night because her stitches weren’t straight. The times she had cried herself to sleep believing she was wicked.
Being kindhearted, Eleanor’s resolve faltered. “There are good people in this world. Trust me. Tell me what you’ve done, and I will help you.”
Lady Lucille dabbed tears from her eyes. “No one can help me. The damage is done. I only pray that my actions have prevented a catastrophe.”
Good grief. She made it sound like the world was ending.
Whatever her troubles, Lord Wrotham had caused them.
“A man attacked me in my yard and forced me to deliver secret messages.” Eleanor shivered at the memory. The fiend’s grip had left bruises. “I was given books and told to hide notes behind the bookplates. Every volume in Lord Wrotham’s library bears the same plates.” She went on to tell a harmless lie. “I enquired at the printers. It’s an exclusive design.”
The lady swallowed hard. “That has nothing to do with me.”
“But it does. You borrowed the Vampyre from Pickering’s library, aware the note was inside.” She hadn’t loaned the other books, probably because her suspicions had been confirmed. “You knew Lord Wrotham had hurt me and wanted to be sure. You know why, yet you let me live in fear. Don’t expect sympathy when we’ve been hurt by the same man.”
That’s when recognition dawned.
When a terrible sense of foreboding churned in her stomach.
The dreadful certainty that something wicked had unfolded.
“What if Lord Wrotham hired men to hurt Miss Franklin?” A picture of the scene flashed into her mind. Now she thought of it, there was something organised about the chaos. “She was bludgeoned with a candlestick. If she doesn’t recover, your fiancé as good as murdered her.”
As if about to wretch, Lady Lucille slapped her hand to her mouth. “No. Anna does not deserve this. None of us do. She risked everything to tell me the truth.”
“It’s about time you told us the truth,” Theo said, joining Eleanor. “This game has gone on for long enough.”
It took Lady Lucille a moment to recognise Theo. “Game? Do you think I gain any pleasure from this? If the truth comes to light, I will be transported.”
Eleanor gasped. “Transported? What have you done?”
The lady hung her head and cried. “I’m guilty of nothing but naivety. I’m like all the other foolish chits who believe titled men are moral.”
Theo released a weary sigh. “Despite our differences, we’re willing to help you.”
She looked at him through teary eyes. “Unless you plan to kill Lord Wrotham, I see no other way you can help.”
Kill Lord Wrotham?
Her situation must be dire.
“We’ll not commit a crime.” Eleanor glanced at Theo. She had everything to live for now. Every reason to believe they could be happy. “But Mr Chance and his brothers could use the information against Lord Wrotham. He does not need to know it came from you.”
Theo cursed under his breath. “If I find out Wrotham hurt Miss Darrow in her yard, he’ll not walk without the aid of a stick.”
The lady sniffed back more tears. “Why would you want to help me when I used you so cruelly? Wrotham hates you so much he relished stealing me away.”
“We met twice,” Theo said, his tone indifferent. “I had selfish reasons for wanting to court you, too.” He reached for Eleanor’s hand and clasped it tightly. “But I’m in love with Miss Darrow. Love has a way of softening one’s heart.”
Eleanor’s heart swelled in her chest.
Theo wasn’t ashamed to voice his feelings.
“Whatever you have done, my lady, it’s helped us to realise what we mean to each other.” She couldn’t help but smile. “But we must put this dreadful business behind us. We have all made mistakes.”
Lady Lucille looked at them with utter astonishment. “I encouraged Anna to steal your diary and the book hidden beneath your floorboards. She took the spare key from the drawer, had a copy made and entered the night you went to the Olympic. You have every reason to despise us both.”
“I’m sure you were quite desperate at the time.” Eleanor wanted to feel a burst of anger, a rage to make Lucifer quake, but she didn’t. “Though I cannot understand why Anna would upend furniture and pull everything off the shelves.”
“That wasn’t Anna,” the lady declared. “She swears the rooms were like that when she arrived.”
“But I was away for two hours at most.” She had gone straight to the Olympic and had arrived home to find the place in disarray. “Whoever it was must have been looking for my diary.” Why hadn’t Mr Franklin seen anything? He was forever watching the street. “Was it Anna who pushed me down the stairs?”
The lady frowned. “Why would Anna want to hurt you?”
Eleanor’s head throbbed. But at least she knew who had been rooting under the floorboards. “The question we need to ask is, who hurt Anna? Mr Franklin is pedantic when it comes to protecting his property. He’ll be annoyed he didn’t confront the blackguards.”
How had he not heard the intruders?
