The Countess by Catherine Coulter

fear. I was frankly relieved when they finally took their leave. We all stood in

the front of the Manor, waving when their carriage rolled down the long driveway.

Thomas said to Amelia, “Your father told me that I was to cease complaining

about my health, or else when I died, my ghost would not give forth a strong

aura. I would never be able to see you again, even from that metaphysical

distance. I would, he told me, be doomed.”

It took all the strength I had not to burst out laughing.

John had no reticence at all. He clapped his brother’s shoulder and said, “I don’t

want you to be doomed, Thomas, no matter what sorts of distances we’re talking

about. Do consider what your father-in-law told you.”

Amelia was staring down at the toes of her slippers. What was she thinking about

this, I wondered? Or was she thinking about the evil in the Black Chamber? She

didn’t say a word, merely offered to prepare Thomas a very nice tisane if he

would accompany her to their bedchamber. I stared at them, walking so very close

together, speaking in low voices. About what?

When John and I were alone. When I was certain that there was no one hanging

about, I said, “There is something I suppose I should tell you. I should

probably have mentioned it before, but I didn’t, so perhaps now is a good time

to do it.”

One of those dark eyebrows of his shot up. He eyed me. “Well? Come on, out with

it.”

“All right. Two weeks ago I received a letter from my cousin Peter. He enclosed

a letter from my father, a man I had hoped was long dead and in Hell, where he

so richly deserves to be.”

“Your father? I believed he was dead. You lived with your grandfather, did you

not?”

“Yes. I do not wish to discuss it. I despise him. He murdered my mother.” *

“How?”

“I don’t wish to discuss it. Just believe me. In any case, in this letter he

wrote me, he said that he had read of my marriage to your uncle. It unnerved him.

He told me to leave Devbridge Manor at once, that he was coming as soon as he

could.”

I saw that flash of violence in his dark eyes, then it was gone, and I knew he

was angry. “May I ask,” he said very pleasantly, “why the hell you did not tell

me of this damned letter before?”

“I did not feel that it was anyone’s business. Actually, that isn’t quite all of

the truth.”

“And the truth is what, exactly?”

“I didn’t want you to know about the man who is my father.”

“Why?”

“I don’t want to discuss it. The main reason I’m telling you now is that his

letter has been stolen from my letter box.” I pulled the gold chain with the

gold key attached to it from my bodice. “I kept the box locked. I have worn the

key. Now that everyone is gone, there are no more distractions. I wanted to

reread the letter. It is gone. Someone stole it. I searched all over my

bedchamber, which turned up a pair of stockings that George had pulled out of a

drawer, but nothing else.”

He cursed, very fluently, and for a good length of time.

“When you keep me in ignorance, you unman me,” he said, looking at me like he

wanted to strangle me, and I immediately started shaking my head.

“No, if that is what you feel, then I am sorry. I believed my father’s letter to

be ridiculous. No, not really, since all these things have happened to me. No,

what’s important now is that I leave. I don’t want to stay here and let someone

kill me or make me pay for all of it. I will return to Grandfather’s house in

London.”

“Yes,” he said, “I believe you must leave. And while you are gone, I will get to

the bottom of all this.”

“How?”

“It’s time I did a bit of searching about,” he said. “No, it won’t work. For

example, just what would you tell Uncle Lawrence? There is no good reason. You

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