The Countess by Catherine Coulter

empty save for one envelope. It was addressed to his lordship, the Earl of

Devbridge, and it had been sent from London. I pulled out one piece of foolscap

and smoothed it out on the desktop. I read:

December, 1817 My lord:

Edward Jameson has just arrived in London. I await your instructions.

Your obedient servant, Charles Grafton

I just sat there staring down at those words. My father was in London, as of the

eighth of this month. It was now the seventeenth of December. Where was he? What

was he doing? And most importantly, why did Lawrence care?

What bloody instructions? Why would Lawrence give instructions about my father

to this man named Grafton? I read and reread the two lines, trying to make some

sense out of them. It was no use. I had so urgently sought to find some clue, to

discover the answer to this deadly game I was trapped in. Now the clue I had

searched for was in my hand, and still I did not understand. Then I realized the

date of the letter was only three days before someone had put that horrible

barbed circle of wire under Small Bess’s saddle.

I put the letter down and pressed my fingers against my temples. At least now I

knew, knew that my father’s warning was against Lawrence, my husband. That was

why he was so shocked and dismayed at my marriage. But what had my father to do

with all this?

I felt as though I were trapped in that marvelous maze at Richmond, only in this

maze I didn’t know if I would be able to find a way out.

I slowly placed the sheet of foolscap back into the envelope, and put it exactly

in the same place it had been when I opened the drawer. There was just no away

around it, my husband was the one who wanted to make me pay for all of it. But

why? Why then did he marry me? What had I done to deserve his hate?

Was he also the evil that Lord Waverleigh had said still lived here? In the

Black Chamber?

I stared about me. I had been here all too long. Someone might come in. I closed

the drawer only to realize that I had to use the hairpin again to move the

inside little lever. I moved the pin back and forth until, finally, mercifully,

the lock clicked back into place.

I quietly closed the small narrow door, and walked quickly out of his bedchamber.

I had taken only three steps when I saw someone, the shadow of another person,

and then they were gone, around the corner that led to a servant’s staircase. I

sincerely hoped it was Boynton, John’s valet, keeping an eye on me. But if it

was Boynton, why had he run? I heard a noise from just behind me. I whirled

around so fast I nearly stumbled on my skirt and went down. Another shadow, a

face, looking at me from around that corner, and now it was gone. I raced to the

corner, around it, and dashed up another back staircase, calling out, “Who is

there? Come back here. Damn you, who are you?”

Chapter Twenty-six

No one answered. I stood there, heart pounding, wondering what the devil I was

going to do now.

I quickly entered my room, and locked the door behind me. The Blue Room had

never seemed so welcome. George looked up and wagged his tail for a bit before

he took two drinks out of his water bowl and went back to his nap. I sat down in

the winged chair close to the fire. It felt wonderful. I hadn’t realized I was

so cold, both on the inside and the outside. I stared into the flames. I

wondered why Lawrence had married me and brought me here, to his home, only to

terrorize me, to tell me that I would pay for all of it. I knew it involved my

father, but how and what, I still had no idea. I had to see John. Perhaps he had

learned something.

He wasn’t in his bedchamber. He wasn’t downstairs, either. No one had seen him.

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