Scandal in the Night by Elizabeth Essex Read Free Book Online Page B

And so he had contrived to give her the mare.
    “I gave her a horse.”
    It was as good a place to start as any, but Thomas looked up to find his family regarding him as they had upon his arrival—as if he had contracted a rare and debilitating brain fever.
    “Actually, or more correctly, I sold the animal, one of my prize Marwari mares, to her uncle, the resident commissioner, Lord Summers.”
    “Ah.” His father narrowed his eyes and nodded. “I begin to see.”
    “See what?” James frowned and straightened up. “What do you see?”
    “Lord Summers is, or was, the third son of the late Duke of Westing. Lord Summers was also—correct me if I am wrong—” he said aside to Thomas, “killed in India. A tragic fire, some two years ago, was it? There were some rumors of a tawdry love triangle, but it was all hushed up. He was Miss Cates’s uncle?”
    “It was Lady Summers who was Miss Cates’s”—the name still felt awkward on his tongue—“mother’s younger sister. And Lord and Lady Summers were both killed in the fire. Their home, Miss Cates’s home, the residency of Saharanpur, was entirely consumed.”
    “How ghastly.” James’s face was tight with concern. “I had no idea. She never mentioned a word.”
    “I imagine she was too terrified. Both then and now.” Thomas had been terrified as well, torn to shreds by the seething frustration of knowing she was alive, but not knowing where she was. Throughout the past two years, he had been unable to stop himself from imagining what it must have been like for her in the confused aftermath. He was still haunted by dark dream images playing out across his brain, over and over again, from when he had thought her dead. And he was still ripped up to find she no longer trusted him. So ripped up he had just accused her of inexcusable things. As ruthless as a courtesan. He was the one who ought to be shot. “Especially after she was accused.”
    “Miss Cates?” James foundered, caught between his clear fondness for his employee and the enormity of the accusation. “Of setting the fire that killed them? How could that be?”
    “She was easy to accuse. There was no one to … speak on her behalf.” Even now, even as he chose the careful words, his excuses sounded trite and unworthy. “She was accused and would have been charged. But by then, she had disappeared. And I’ve been looking for her ever since.”
    “Good Lord.”
    “Thomas.” The immutable strength in the Earl Sanderson’s voice brought them back to the inescapable issue at hand. “Did you believe her guilty?” he asked from his place in his chair. “ Do you believe her guilty?”
    Thomas shook his head. He had been told by the English authorities she was guilty—told the evidence was incontrovertible—until he had half believed some part of it might be true. And she had disappeared, another proof, it was said, of her guilt.
    “No. She was not guilty.” She could not have started the fire that the company men claimed she had set in order to cover up the murders of Lord and Lady Summers, for one simple reason. Because she had been with him—with Tanvir Singh—at the time.
    But by the time Thomas had understood that he alone held the power of her deliverance, it was too late. She was gone without a trace.
    “What I don’t understand,” James interjected into the silence, “is what all this has to do with your supposition that Miss Cates was being shot at. You are the missing penny here, Thomas. Nobody was being shot at until you turned up. From Liverpool, of all places. What else haven’t you told us?”
    “Everything.” Thomas might have laughed, if he hadn’t been so goddamned weary. So tired of carrying the incessant worry. Tired of the burden of his guilt. Tired of trying to figure it all out. And now that he’d found her, it seemed that instead of being resolved, the situation had become even more complicated. And dangerous. “There’s simply too much to