Dark Obsession (35 page)

Grayson ran a hand through his hair. He hadn’t wanted to call the magistrate for fear of incriminating Tom’s memory in front of Jonny. Now he might be incriminating Chad. Or both men. And Jonny would be left with even more to mourn.

He filled his lungs and forced a single word past his lips. ‘‘Yes.’’

‘‘Very good, sir.’’ Gibbs turned to go.

‘‘Wait. Have my wife and nephew returned yet?’’

‘‘I believe the coach turned in about a half hour ago.’’

‘‘That’s odd. Then where are they?’’

He didn’t wait for Gibbs to sort out an answer for him. Downstairs, neither Mrs. Dorn nor any of the other servants had seen Nora and Jonny. With the vague beginnings of panic prodding his steps, Grayson strode out to the carriage house. He found the coach-man wiping down the sides of the vehicle with a soft white rag.

‘‘Morning, Master Grayson. No, they sent me on ahead. Said they preferred to walk. I warned them it might rain, but the earl insisted it would do no such thing.’’ He angled a glance at the sky. ‘‘So far, it seems he was right.’’

‘‘The earl?’’ Alarm streaked across Grayson’s back and sent shooting pains into his neck. There were two earls presently residing at Blackheath Grange, but unless some miracle had occurred this morning, of which Nora most assuredly would have informed him, the young Earl of Clarington could not have insisted upon anything. That left . . . a man he no longer knew if he could trust.

Pushing off on the balls of his feet, Grayson sprinted to the stable yard and shouted for his horse.

The sound of hooves crunching on gravel echoed through the trees and set Nora’s already tense nerves on edge. Who would be cantering a horse on this part of the property, far from the riding lanes? Between the tree trunks, she spied flashes of Grayson rounding the nearest bend in the drive, his tall figure bent low over his mount’s neck.

When he cleared the curve and came into view, the look on his face made her stomach clench. She quickly drew Jonny beside her, out of the Thoroughbred’s way, and braced for ill tidings.

Grayson reined in as he reached them, the sudden stop sending gravel spitting in all directions. Pellets struck Nora’s skirts, but she paid them no mind. She went to him and pressed a hand to his thigh, feeling the rigid muscles bunch beneath her palm. ‘‘What is it? What’s happened?’’

‘‘You’re in quite a furor, old boy.’’ Chad spoke from just behind her shoulder. ‘‘What can I do?’’

Grayson’s gaze shifted between her, Chad and Jonny, his tension obvious in the angle of his chin, the thrust of his shoulders, the way he held the reins aloft as if poised for flight. He looked confused, disoriented, and Nora’s concerns took a fearful tumble. Was he lapsing into one of his previous episodes? Would he begin ranting, threatening?

But then his posture relaxed and his hands lowered to rest on his thighs. ‘‘When the coach returned without you, I grew worried.’’

‘‘Didn’t Clements tell you we’d decided to walk?’’ Nora slid her hand to cover one of his. ‘‘It’s such a rare morning without rain, we couldn’t pass up the opportunity.’’

Grayson swung a leg over the horse’s rump and dismounted. ‘‘I’m sorry. A terrible sensation gripped me that something might have been wrong.’’ He wiped a sleeve across his glistening brow. Jonny had moved beside Nora, and Grayson handed him Constantine’s reins. ‘‘If you wouldn’t mind.’’ When the boy silently accepted the responsibility for leading the horse back to the stables, Grayson added, ‘‘Thanks, old man.’’

‘‘Sure you’re all right? You’re looking distinctly pallid.’’

At Chad’s query, Grayson flinched, and made Nora flinch in turn as he took a brisk step closer to the earl. ‘‘And how is it you came to be part of this morning’s outing?’’

Chad’s brow creased in a slight frown. He shrugged a shoulder. ‘‘I was out for a walk when the coach passed by.’’

‘‘You were out for a walk?’’ A muscle worked in Grayson’s cheek. ‘‘Before breakfast?’’

‘‘A bit odd for me, I realize, but I woke early and couldn’t get back to sleep. But never mind about me. What happened to send you thundering after us? Surely this premonition of yours didn’t arise from thin air.’’

‘‘You are correct,’’ Grayson said calmly, and Nora wondered if perhaps she had only imagined his anger a moment earlier. He waited for Jonny to lead Constantine a few more paces ahead of them. ‘‘Gibbs had a report for me earlier that made me worry about Nora and Jonny being abroad alone.’’ His gaze swept his friend’s length. ‘‘But they weren’t alone, were they?’’

Chad replied with a question of his own. ‘‘What did Gibbs say?’’

‘‘It appears you may be right about thieves prowling the property. A local man was out fishing the night before you arrived, and spotted someone down on the beach.’’

‘‘Good heavens.’’ A jolt of alarm had Nora instinctively craning her neck for a view of Jonny as he disappeared with the horse around the turn in the drive.

‘‘Did he get a good look at this man?’’ The contents of the basket rattled lightly at Chad’s side. Nora had forgotten all about Jonny’s collected treasures. She reached to take back the basket, but Chad seemed not to notice her gesture. His attention remained focused on Gray. ‘‘Could this prowler be identified?’’

‘‘Regrettably, no.’’ Grayson returned his friend’s scrutiny. ‘‘It was too dark.’’

‘‘A shame.’’

‘‘Indeed.’’

‘‘And all the more reason for the two of you to consider leaving Blackheath Grange.’’ Chad held up a hand as if to forestall an impending protest. ‘‘For a time, at least.’’

‘‘We’ve been through this,’’ Nora put in. ‘‘And we decided—’’

‘‘You decided,’’ Grayson interrupted. ‘‘And I went along with it because you have your father’s skill at bullying people, though you employ decidedly more subtle means.’’ Though couched in a jest, his assertion nonetheless rankled. She tossed him an incredulous look and searched his face for an explanation, but he noticed neither. All his attention remained focused on Chad. ‘‘We’ll consider leaving.’’

‘‘What was that about earlier?’’ Nora demanded the very instant she managed to corner Grayson alone in the drawing room following supper that evening.

Jonny had retired to his room with Kat. The glow of Chad’s pipe floated through the darkness beyond the windows as he paced the terrace. For the first time since breakfast, they were alone. She intended for them to remain that way until she had her answers.

‘‘What was what about?’’ Grayson looked as though he wished to slip away, but she had effectively trapped him between a pair of chairs, a sofa table and the pianoforte.

‘‘Outside on the drive this morning.’’ She set her hands on her hips and backed him up against a wing chair until he was forced to sit. ‘‘I know you had feared for Jonny’s and my safety at first, but even after you discovered us safe, you seemed peeved for no reason with Chad. The two of you behaved like a couple of gamesters playing for high stakes, each vigilantly preventing the other from seeing his hand.’’

He grabbed her wrist and pulled her into his lap. When he’d settled her comfortably across his thighs, he pressed his lips to her brow. ‘‘All right, my lovely paramour. You have me. I’ve something important to tell you and I didn’t wish to do so in front of Chad. I was disappointed not to catch you alone.’’

‘‘Is that the truth? There is no trouble between you and Chad?’’

Even as he kissed her and gave his assurances, she could not banish a niggling sensation that he was hiding something. Yet she said, ‘‘I can sympathize with you. You know I’d hoped to ask questions during my visits with the tenants.’’

‘‘Yes, quite against my advice.’’

‘‘Then you’ll be relieved to hear that with Chad along, I learned nothing.’’

‘‘How so?’’

‘‘His presence made such questions awkward, and he has a way of stealing a conversation, doesn’t he?’’

‘‘He always did.’’ A perplexed expression claimed his features, and Nora realized she had distracted him from his original intention.

With her fingertips she smoothed away his frown. ‘‘What did you wish to tell me?’’

‘‘Better if I simply show you.’’ He raised her to her feet, giving her bottom a pat as he stood up beside her. ‘‘Come with me.’’

Minutes later, they stood in Alexander Lowell’s former study, staring up at the portrait of the man, a boyhood version of Grayson standing to his left, Thomas to his right.

‘‘What is it I’m supposed to see?’’

Grayson stepped closer to the painting. ‘‘I actually spoke to this picture today, asking what the devil we were supposed to be looking for.’’ He peered at her over his shoulder. ‘‘And to prove I’ve quite gone round the bend, the picture answered.’’

He gestured toward his father’s image. ‘‘See the fob? Each Earl of Clarington inherits the Clarington pocket watch. It’s been missing ever since Tom died.’’

Baffled, Nora shook her head. ‘‘Yes, but—’’ ‘‘Jonny’s yellow circles.’’

She felt her eyes go wide.

‘‘They represent the watch, monogrammed with a
C
."

‘‘Good lord. Of course.’’

‘‘He’s obviously obsessed with it. I’m convinced if we found it we could persuade him to speak. And then we might learn what happened to his father.’’ His hand fisted as if around that scrap of hope. But another thought occurred to Nora.

‘‘Gray, suppose Jonny already knows where the watch is? Perhaps he hid it away for safekeeping, and what we must do is persuade him to show us where.’’

‘‘I hadn’t thought of that.’’ His hand opened and his shoulders visibly slumped. ‘‘Perhaps he merely took it from Tom’s bedroom after he died, his way of remaining close to his father. In that case, finding it won’t help solve anything, will it?’’

Her heart ached to assure him otherwise. Opening her arms, she embraced him, pressing his head to her shoulder and rocking him tenderly as she might have done Jonny. ‘‘I don’t know. I only know that whatever happens’’—she tightened her arms around him—‘‘I love you.’’

‘‘At times I wish you didn’t.’’ His lips moved against her neck, leaving traces of warm moisture. ‘‘And I thank God you do.’’

They spent the next day searching the rooms frequented by Jonny. At times they split up, with Grayson exploring his nephew’s bedroom while Nora resumed the lessons she’d begun with the boy. Later, he and Chad brought Jonny out to the stables to ride Puck, while Nora stole the opportunity to comb through the schoolroom.

Now Grayson climbed the stairs to the third floor to meet her in the old playroom, high beneath the eaves. Minutes ago he had watched Chad drive away in the curricle. He was traveling up to Helston today, ostensibly to speak with a solicitor about some new investments that had caught his interest.

Ostensibly.
True, Chad had conducted business in Helston in the past, but why hadn’t he arranged for these particular investments before he left London? Why suddenly now?

And was it an accident that Chad had accompanied Nora and Jonny on their visits to the tenant farms? While Chad might eagerly arise at dawn for a race on horseback across the moors, early morning walks were utterly out of character for him, always had been. Grayson suspected his friend might have been listening outside the morning room when he and Nora had discussed her plans, and had contrived to meet her later on the drive.

He groaned inwardly. He detested these suspicions concerning his friend, loathed himself for even entertaining such notions. Yet ignoring them, flatly denying them as false, could put Nora and Jonny at risk. And that was why, as soon as Chad had left, Grayson had sent one of his tenant’s sons to ride to Helston and back.

He shook his skepticism aside and slipped a hand into his coat pocket, fingertips making contact with the object he’d put there. His search that morning had brought him to Charlotte’s former bedchamber. He didn’t quite know why. Perhaps it had been an act of defiance or challenge or simple frustration to stand in the room of the one person who seemed to know all the answers—but refused to reveal them. He’d gone so far as to call her name and dare her to appear. She hadn’t, of course. But on his way out, the sight of three miniature paintings hanging in a row from a velvet ribbon made him wonder if Charlotte hadn’t summoned him to her room after all. He’d removed the bottommost painting, and now he intended it as a surprise for Nora, one he hoped might make her smile.

It was a selfish hope, really. The tilt of her lips and the light in her eyes had the power to make him forget everything—regrets and ghosts and silent little boys— if only for an instant.

The playroom door stood open, spilling the odors of must and abandonment onto the landing, for even Jonny no longer played here. Grayson found Nora sitting on a small hooked rug with her skirts tucked beneath her, her arms folded around a porcelain-faced doll with golden curls and a ruffled gown.

She glanced up with a rueful expression. ‘‘I don’t suppose Jonny would have hidden his watch inside a doll.’’

‘‘That would be one of my aunt Pricilla’s. She had quite a collection as a child.’’

‘‘I’ve always loved dolls.’’ Nora patted the gleaming curls into place and fluffed the layers of yellowing satin skirts as lovingly as she might have done for a real little girl.

His chest tightened at the sight. ‘‘My guess is that playing at being a mama was a game you loved most as a child.’’

‘‘Yes.’’ With a sigh, her expression turned solemn. ‘‘But I no longer have the luxury of playing. Jonny needs a real mother, and at present, I am the only one he’s got.’’

Outside, the breeze coursing beneath the eaves echoed of long-ago laughter. She stood and set the doll on a bench piled with other dolls and forgotten toy bears. ‘‘His parents need us as well. We have a job to do. Did you find anything in his bedroom?’’

‘‘Not a thing.’’ Grayson feigned interest in the tattered coat of the rocking horse while battling a keen sense of chagrin. Nora’s focus never wavered from Jonny’s and his parents’ needs, while his main concern these many months had been his own guilt.