Shadowed by Sin Read online

  “Perfect. William!” the baron shouted out to his butler. “See that Estelle is ready to depart. She shan’t keep the earl waiting.” Lord Humphrey returned his attention to Benedict and asked, “Have you found a home yet for the both of you?”

  “No, I have not. I was hoping to get some idea of where Estelle wanted to live. Sir, not to get off topic, but have you heard the gossip about that body they found floating in the Thames last summer?”

  The baron pulled off his spectacles and covered his light cough with a handkerchief. “I have, but it is hard to say how much is fact or fiction. Some of my associates seem to think there is more to the story other than the gent being in the wrong place at the wrong time.”

  “How so?” Benedict asked, hoping that any speculation would lean toward the Earl of Hawthorne.

  “Well, the gent, they say, usually gambled with the higher echelons of the aristocracy. Some have heard the rumors he recently lost several horses and the deed to a rather large estate to Lord Cuthbert, but there is no evidence to support the suspicions. I suppose we may never know the truth of the matter. Anything that could shed some light on the case has probably drifted off to the North Sea. Pity that. I’ve heard some nasty words mentioned about Cuthbert too.”

  A sinking feeling burrowed deeper and deeper into Benedict’s belly about the earl. How was it even remotely possible for the man to create so much havoc and not leave a trace of his actions behind? There was only one type of man capable of such chaos and deception, and heaven forbid if he’d created strife over his ruling at Hawthorne Hall. If there were one case, there would certainly be others and if that was the scenario, how many other secrets about the family’s history was questionable?

  Aware someone had joined them, a delightful figure appeared at the parlor door. Estelle curtseyed, acknowledging her father and then Ben.

  “I thought you could join my family for dinner tonight.” Benedict turned to face the baron. “I will return your lovely daughter just as soon as post dinner refreshments have completed.”

  “Thank you, son. You two have a wonderful evening while I try and figure out what my sister, Mrs. Black, is planning for the rest of the night. Lord only knows she’s got some kind of tea and gossip party to attend.”

  Chapter 2

  Estelle smiled warmly at her fiancé, counting the days in her head before they were married, before turning her head to look out the window.

  “I’ve missed you, dearest. I wondered what was taking you so long but then I saw the weather was turning so I imagined you held off on coming until you knew the weather would cooperate,” Estelle said in a soft voice.

  Benedict squeezed her hand and lifted her onto his lap. She twisted so that she could kiss him only now; he slid her from his lap so that her back lay flat on their seat. His lips crushed to hers in one swoop. Estelle couldn’t think with all her emotions rising to the surface.

  “Lord, I cannot wait for our special day,” Benedict grumbled, viciously prying away from her.

  A giggle escaped her lips as she propped herself up. “Soon enough, my darling, soon enough.”

  “Let us right your hair before I get a sound thrashing from my mother if you appear in such a state.”

  “Not to worry, my love, I’ll set everything right. What were you and my father discussing when you arrived? It almost felt as if I interrupted something important.”

  He raised a brow at her question then eased back into his seat. “Aside from wedding plans, we were discussing real estate, and current affairs.”

  “The current affairs part sounds dreadfully boring. That is, unless, you are referring to something positively scandalous. Has there been a murder? Corruption from the House of Lords; how about some industry about to meet financial ruin?”

  “Slow down, my love. It almost sounds as if you have been keeping yourself occupied with current gossip and news. What would you know of financial ruin or murder? Have you heard of something that I have not?”

  “Did you not hear about the man floating in the bloody river a few months ago?” Hell, she’d surprised herself with the language, but she doubted Benedict would comment on her choice of words.

  “Yes, I heard. In fact, I only just found out about it this afternoon.”

  “The details around the death are sketchy. They have no suspects, and it’s supposed whoever the vagabond is, has probably retreated from London by now.”

  “Suppose it wasn’t a vagabond, and it was a peer?”

  “Now that would truly be a scandal, Ben. Do you think it was a member of one of those clubs I hear Papa discussing with guests? There are always those kinds of deals going on. At least that is what I’ve gathered from my eavesdropping, which I am aware is terribly wrong and ill-mannered, but sometimes there really isn’t anything to do at night besides reading. Drat. Ben, what am I to do with these thoughts of intrigue and murder?”

  Ben sighed, as he always did when he grew weary of her questions, although, he raised a brow at her mention of eavesdropping.

  “I apologize if I’m being a bother. I’ll say no more on the matter,” Estelle added with a frown.

  “It’s not that, Estelle. Here, I want you to read this and tell me your thoughts.”

  Estelle took the invitation and read it. Why in the world did the words Cuthbert and Hawthorne Hall sound so familiar? Cuthbert…who do I know with that name?

  “So…do you think you want to attend?” he asked.

  “I suppose, but do you know them?”

  “I went to university with their son George, and at best he was only an acquaintance. Our affiliation ended there. However, there’s a matter of the other things I’ve heard over the years. Estelle, the reason I bring this up now is because there’s a bit of a complication with this trip.”

  He paused and then turned his head away from her.

  Estelle couldn’t understand why he seemed so worried. “What sort of complication, Ben? You’re worrying me.”

  “There was a letter sent to my father today by the Earl of Hawthorne. He’s being blackmailed after witnessing something he shouldn’t have and if he does not come into information within a fortnight, he will be framed as the murderer of the man found floating down the river.”

  Estelle hadn’t meant to gasp so loudly but finding the courage not to was even more difficult.

  “You cannot be serious. Blackmail. How absurd! But why?”

  “I do not know for certain; but all I know is that my father would never do anything to jeopardize his family in the least. The Earl of Hawthorne is up to no good and I will not tolerate his interference, which leads to my next question. If we go to this masque or whatever the Countess of Hawthorne wants to address it as, I may drift away from your side. It is my intention to use that opportunity to investigate from within the earl’s home. I hope you will agree with what I intend to do, but would certainly understand if you wish to decline the invitation.”

  “I refuse to bow out. We are in this together, Benedict. Our families will become one soon enough that we must learn to work together. If there is anything I can do to aid you, I want to help.”

  “I thank you for your support, dear, but I do not want to endanger you either. There will be times I must slip away, and when that is the case, I do not want you to follow. Should the earl suspect that I am there for other reasons than his son’s entertainment, who knows what they are capable of doing? One man has ended up in the river. How many others have there been and never been found? I do not want you to get that close, and should you ever stumble on anything so horrifying, you are to inform me immediately. The second I know you are no longer safe amongst the guests; you will be on the next coach home.” The intensity in his voice wavered and she observed the flurry of emotions crossing his face; anger, fear, sadness, and rage. She understood the need to protect his family, but at what cost?

  I cannot lose him to this, she vowed silently.

  Estelle prayed that whatever happened during their stay at Hawthor
ne Hall, nothing too drastic would occur. Every manor had secrets, and hopefully Benedict wouldn’t have to dig too deep to uncover them.

  The carriage came to a halt, and a rush of attendants greeted them.

  Ben exited first and aided her down, while servants lined up at the door. When they reached the main room, she was greeted by her future mother-in-law, who made it no secret she was still not pleased with their betrothal. In fact, if she had to bet her life on it, she probably had some other doe-eyed debutante picked out for him. Estelle shuddered to think what she might have thought of her the first time, when her son professed his love for her.

  “How nice of you to join us, Estelle. Come and sit with me for a bit. Dinner should be ready in a quarter hour. Tell me of your plans so far.”

  “The plans are coming along nicely, my lady. Although, Benedict seems to be keeping me in suspense with the plans for our new home.”

  “I’m sure it will be quite lovely. My son is quite adept at procuring oddities, and I’m positive he will find you something fitting.”

  Her words bit, and with the sting of the insult Estelle only smiled, and was saved by a servant announcing dinner was ready.

  Without a second to waste, Benedict fell into step with her on their way to the dining hall. He winked and whispered to her, “I do hope the weather takes a turn for the worst.”

  She glared at him. His subtle suggestion that they engage in some of their own mischief was terrible, but how she loved him deeply. There wasn’t anything she wouldn’t do for him. However, if they were caught in the middle of anything inappropriate, the wedding would be cancelled or even moved up. Then where would they live?

  Estelle’s cheeks heated and she gently shoved him away. “Do stop, you are embarrassing me,” she replied with a hoarse whisper.

  “If you think that’s embarrassing, I would hate to see what happens if I ever told you my fantasies about you.”

  She smacked him then, and he only laughed at her. They were seated across from each other, as were Benedict’s parents. Oddly enough, she noticed the silent signals he and his father exchanged—wary glances, slight coughing, and petty small talk—when his mother spoke up.

  “Dare I ask what is left of the wedding planning, you two? You’re obviously doing a fine job discussing it discreetly in the corner over there and it has become apparent that neither of you want our assistance, but I am rather put out over the exclusion.”

  “We meant no offense, Mother. Everything is quite settled with the exception of our future home.”

  “In that case, I will insist on aiding you both with the hiring of servants. I have already been seeking out names for all the staff you will require. All you will need to do is find the appropriate home for your future. Estelle needs a home befitting that of a countess. You cannot live in a hovel and call it a home. I will provide you with my recommendations for all of the above and you will not procure a home unless I approve all manners of its state.”

  Estelle dropped her spoon at the countess’s tone. Of all the condescending, pig-headed, arrogant things the woman could say, she dared to interfere in the manner of what residence was selected.

  “How generous of you, my lady. However I was thinking that Benedict and I could stay at the hotel until we have returned from our honeymoon. I do believe we will be going away for a time, so I would hate to rush things at this point.”

  The countess snorted in an unladylike manner. Lord St. John’s eyes narrowed, and her gaze shifted between them. “Well, it would appear I’ve lost my appetite.”

  Her mother-in-law rose from the table and retreated from the dining hall like a wounded animal.

  “Oh, ignore her. She still hasn’t forgotten over her proposals you previously rejected for prospective brides. I mean no offense to you of course, Lady Estelle. My wife has been accustomed all these years to getting her way, and now she feels as if she needs to prove herself more worthy of her title and defend it. Lord only knows why,” Lord St. John drawled before tossing his napkin on the table.

  A crack of lightning and thunder rattled around them. Rain pelted against the windows, making a frightening sound. Estelle raised her head to only find Benedict smiling.

  “I guess this means you will be spending the night here, my love.”

  “Indeed,” his father added. “Shall we move into the library and sit by the fire a while? I think a dram of brandy shall settle our nerves. It has been quite the exhausting day.”

  Left alone in the library, Benedict flagged his father’s attention. “Father, I have a plan.”

  Lord St. John paled, noticing Estelle watching them intently. He probably hadn’t expected for his son to share the information given the circumstances, but he hoped he would overlook that oversight.

  “Do not worry about Estelle. I’ve told her everything and I trust that she won’t breathe a word of this to one living soul. We, meaning Estelle and I, received an invitation earlier today to attend Hawthorne Hall. The earl and his countess are hosting a masque in celebration of George’s return from the continent. This will provide me with the greatest opportunity to delve deeper into anything else Lord Cuthbert may be hiding.”

  “You cannot mean to thrust your intended into the middle of this mess? It’s dangerous, Benedict. You don’t know what that man is capable of, and I could not live with myself if anything were to happen to Estelle.”

  “Nothing will happen to me, my lord. Benedict will be there to protect me, and should anything go awry, I will be on the next coach headed home. Besides, I am certain my aunt will feel obligated to serve as my chaperone.” Estelle rose from her seat in an attempt to settle his nerves, but he lifted his hand to stop her.

  “You do realize if we’re all found out, there will be dire consequences.”

  Estelle nodded, as did his son.

  “Very well, I do not want to hear any more of this plan. Estelle, I will see that one of the maids tends to you for the remainder of the evening if that will suit.”

  “That would be appreciated, my lord.”

  Lord St. John quickly left the room.

  Perhaps going to the masque is a mistake, she thought.

  The storm outside refused to relent, and the thrashing sounds of tree branches whipping around in the frightening atmosphere outside, kept making a clatter, hitting one of the smaller buildings on the property. Estelle loathed storms, especially when she wasn’t at home in the cozy town residence her father kept after her mother passed on. Staying on for the night in Benedict’s family home might prove to be a challenge after all.

  “If I didn’t know any better, Estelle, I’d say you look frightened. Come here,” Benedict coaxed, trying to pull her into an embrace.

  Estelle complied, feeling insecure. Butterflies in her belly fluttered, as uncertainty washed over her. How she loved this man, even if the way they met was unconventional and his family didn’t approve. He complemented her like lace on a bonnet, and to think they would serve a lifetime in holy matrimony in just a few short weeks.

  “Ben, I should probably get to bed as I will need to leave early. My father will wonder why—”

  “Do not worry about a thing. Your father and aunt will understand that the weather was not acceptable to travel in. Besides, if you are worried that I will compromise you in any way, I wouldn’t do anything unless you wanted me to.”

  “It isn’t that. It’s everything else. Your father appeared truly dismayed that you had informed me of what has already transpired. For heaven’s sake, the man looked like he was going to swoon like a woman.”

  “Yes, but that is only because there isn’t anything he would not do to protect us either. Nevertheless, I will not stand by idly waiting for him to take the blame for something he had no part in. We will get to the bottom of this. Ah, I believe I hear your maid coming along. Go on up with her and I will stop in and see you once the whole house has turned down for the evening.”

  Estelle nodded and watched the parlor door open slowly. The
glow of the candle the maid held cast frightful shadows against the wall.

  “I’ll be tending to your needs tonight, Lady Estelle, if you will follow me. It did take me some time to find a nightgown that will suit you for the night. We will have your clothing laundered tonight as well. Everything should be nice and dry for you by morning.”

  “Thank you kindly.”

  They entered her bedroom for the night, making quick work of changing into a clean and modest night rail. A yawn escaped her lips as she stretched after sitting down at the edge of the bed. Her maid left her with a single candle burning, and a low fire that barely kept the room warm. She wondered if Benedict had any intentions of spending the night with her, or if he’d simply stop in to wish her well before bed.

  She collapsed back and stared into the darkness above her, remembering how they’d played in the carriage on their way here. She wasn’t exactly obtuse with the way men viewed and wanted women. Her education—if one could call it that—came from the fanciful novels her aunt hid in her papa’s library. Mind, they weren’t for her virginal reading pleasure, but what her aunt didn’t know, wouldn’t send her into an apoplectic fit.

  A quiet rap at the door strayed her from her thoughts.

  “I wanted to see how you were getting along. I promise not to keep you too long.” He locked the door behind him and sat next to her on the bed.

  Excitement welled up deep within her chest, and when he was this close to her, she had never felt safer in her entire life. Estelle sighed and whispered, “Ben, kiss me please.”

  “I think I can accommodate that request.” He bent forward, capturing her lips, slowly ravaging her mouth. Her heart hammered in her chest, and she was gently coaxed to lie back on the bed. His one hand slid in behind her head, cradling the base of her skull. Every swipe of his tongue delved deeper and deeper, bringing her toward an unknown feeling of rapture. They’d shared many tender kisses, embracing until their privacy was infringed upon by her father, passers-by, or by the sheer stupidity of knocking a chair over. Yet, in this moment, everything shone in a new light. This man would be her husband, and she’d have a lifetime of these small pleasures. She quivered beneath his expert caresses, giving in to the wanton sensation fluttering about in her belly, clouding her sensibility of how they acted without decorum.