Secret Letters by Leah Scheier Read Free Book Online Page A

attached himself to one of the wealthiest landowners in England.
    He was a giant man, almost as wide as he was tall, with broad shoulders that spanned the doorway. Everything about the earl declared his power and his wealth, from the fur-trimmed mantle that brushed against his thick blond beard to the onyx studs that gleamed in the cuffs of his perfectly tailored suit. Mr. Porter offered the nobleman a drink as Cartwright took his cloak, and the two older men sauntered over to the sideboard.
    Peter Cartwright was walking toward the sofa when I saw him freeze and stare pointedly at the writing desk. In my haste, I had left my half-finished note on his table when I fled and tossed the inky pen beside my purse. With grim determination he strode over to it, picked up the handbag, and turned slowly toward his bedroom door. He was glaring at the keyhole now, his eyes narrowed, furious, as if he meant to burn a passage through the wood and expose me to the world. I held my breath, waiting for him to call me out, dreading the moment when I would have to creep into the light and explain myself. Already I could hear my cousin’s outraged wail: “You found her where —?!” and the thump of my aunt collapsing to the floor in shock. I was certain it was over, and I had moved to rise when suddenly I heard him murmur, so softly that only I could hear, “Well, there goes my reputation—” A resounding thud cut off the ending as he tossed my handbag with vicious strength against the keyhole.
    Then he turned sharply on his heel and walked over to the window as the nobleman and the investigator were settling into their armchairs with their drinks. It seemed that I was safe for now. Afterward I would have to make Cartwright understand that I was actually protecting his reputation. If I came out now, he would have to explain why there was a sixteen-year-old girl hiding in his bedroom. So, until the interview was over, I had no choice but to crouch by the keyhole and listen to the earl’s case.
    I admit that it wasn’t absolutely necessary to eavesdrop. I could have stopped my ears. But Adelaide’s blackmailer was living now on the earl’s estate, and I was, so far, the only one who knew that. It was obviously my duty to listen in.
    “I can hardly stress the importance of absolute secrecy in this matter, Mr. Porter,” the earl was saying. “Even my presence here is a compromise. My wife and son were of the opinion that I should wait, but I could not rest until I had some explanation. Going to the police would have, of course, led to the very scandal that we wished to avert, so after some debate, Lady Hartfield and I agreed that you should be brought in.”
    Cartwright had come to stand opposite the earl’s chair, and he shook his head as he dropped into his seat.
    “You are convinced, then, that your daughter is beyond saving?” he inquired.
    The nobleman gave him a startled look.
    “How could you—?” he began.
    “When Your Lordship removed your cloak earlier, I caught a glimpse of a cabinet-sized portrait that was tucked into the inner pocket. The young lady in the photograph bears a striking resemblance to Lady Hartfield. Even the fondest father does not regularly carry a portrait of that size about with him. It would have been unnecessary to bring a picture if we were shortly to meet the young lady herself, so you must be here to consult us about her disappearance. The discovery must have been embarrassing for your family, and so you have concealed her flight from everyone.”
    Mr. Porter inclined his head slightly and gave a little sniff of satisfaction. “ My protégé , Your Lordship, as you can see.” I had a sudden urge to throw something at his puckered face.
    The earl relaxed his posture and smiled. “Well, he certainly is a credit to you. And it is true that I’ve come to consult you about my daughter.”
    “Your Lordship, perhaps you could tell us a little about your family,” Mr. Porter suggested. “And