Trial by Desire (Carhart #2)(91)

“Louisa,” he said, all confident assurance. “You’ve always known I loved you. You wouldn’t do this to me.”

“I want the very best for you,” she replied. “I hear there are excellent sanitariums in Switzerland.”

Harcroft’s eyes pinched closed, as if she’d spoken the final benediction over his grave. And then, oh so carefully, he adjusted his coat.

“My lord,” the physician said, “we’ll have to take you into custody before the inquiry.”

Harcroft inclined his head and walked from the room.

Kate scrambled to her knees. Ned took her hand in his. She wasn’t sure if he helped her to her feet, after that difficult ordeal, or if she helped him, with his limp.

Perhaps there wasn’t any difference any longer.

“HERE WE ARE,” Ned said gaily. “We’ve arrived.”

“Yes,” Kate replied from her somewhat uncomfortable seat on the carriage, “but where have we arrived? You’re the one who directed the coachman, and I have been forced to wear this uncomfortable thing about my eyes.”

“It’s called a blindfold,” her husband told her, which was not helpful in the slightest. “Here. I’ll help you alight.” She reached out her hand blindly, searching for his.

His hand took hers, steady and strong even though he was leaning on crutches all the while.

They’d left the hubbub of London behind them. In the distance, she smelled burning leaves. The air was chilly, but not cold. Cattle lowed.

“Have you taken me to a farm?” she guessed.

“Good guess.” His hand found the small of her back. “But no.” He turned her. The bulk of his body radiated heat behind her. “You can take off your blindfold now.”

Kate raised her hands to her eyes and eased the cloth off her head.

She was facing a house—a large country house, gray but not uninviting. The grass around her was still damp with morning dew; little wisps of mist rose up around them, restricting her view. She thought there were trees off in the distance, but she couldn’t be sure through the fog. She could see nothing through the windows—no light, no movement.

“It’s an empty house,” she said in confusion.

“Correct,” her husband replied. “But also completely wrong. It’s your empty house.” His arm came around her and he stared ahead.

Kate waited for an explanation, but he just looked ahead of him with a faint half smile on his face. “Very well, Ned. What am I supposed to do with an empty house?”

“As it happens,” he said, “I had a windfall of five thousand pounds. I promised the gentlemen of London to spend it on something for you. There’s a bit of attached land—not much, but enough for a garden.”

He didn’t say anything more, and so she turned around, looking. Behind her stood an empty paddock and barn. “Don’t tell me this is for Champion.”

Beyond the wooden structure, a lake was barely visible through the mist.

“No.” Ned grinned. “Haven’t you guessed, then? Maybe you should see the property.”

Nothing came to mind as she walked the perimeter of the paddock. He followed behind her, his steps uneven. They came to the shore of the small lake, and rocks crunched underfoot.

“I confess. I still don’t understand.”

Ned had been wearing a satchel the entire journey. He slipped it from his shoulders and fumbled the buckle open. “Here. Take this out.”

Kate glanced inside. Sitting on top of a pile of sandwiches wrapped in paper was a pistol—the same pistol she’d stolen from Ned and given to Louisa. She glanced up at him again, but he only motioned once more.

She reached in and took it. The metal was hard against her gloves.

“Over the years,” he told her, “you’ve done a great deal of good. You’ve helped people. And you’ve done it so silently, so quietly that half the ton has never even glanced beyond your face to see who you truly are inside. You’ve hidden yourself away.”

“I— But if people knew…”

“Not everyone needs to know,” he said quietly. “But more than me and Gareth and Jenny. Some of your friends. Your parents.”

She sucked in a breath. “But my father— He’ll—”

She’d had a thousand reasons to keep silent about what she’d done, and they all bombarded her now. He’d take work from her. He’d dismiss what she’d done.

But, no. He couldn’t do that any longer. If Ned approved, her father couldn’t change a thing. And so Kate examined the worst possibility of all—if he knew that she wasn’t the fragile daughter he believed her to be, he might not care for her any longer.

“Whatever it is you fear,” he said gently, “take it and toss it away.”

She drew in a shaky breath.

“I mean that literally,” he said. “Because you’re holding my fears, too—that pistol and I have been through a great deal together. Throw it as far as you can.”

The gun felt heavier in her hands. She looked up at Ned once more, and then slowly hefted the weapon. It seemed too weighty to just toss away, and yet too light to contain all her fears. Still, she heaved it.

It flew in a sailing arc over the water. For one brief second, it caught the morning sun. It glinted. And then the waters closed around it with a splash.