Читать книгу Temptation & Twilight - Charlotte Featherstone - Страница 11

HOURS AFTER THE DISCOVERY of Anastasia’s body in their kitchen garden, the house seemed to settle into a semblance of calm. The servants were too loyal, too well trained, to discuss the matter with anyone, but still Lizzy feared the implications for not only her brother, but the Brethren Guardians. Those implications had her fidgeting and on edge. Not even Maggie’s pampering for Sheldon’s impending visit seemed to calm her thoughts. What if the woman who had been killed by Orpheus’s hand had been Isabella, or Lucy? How would Lizzy have borne it, the loss of those friendships? Or what if it had been Sussex? How in the world would she be able to get on in life without Adrian by her side? She had come to depend upon him. It had not always been that way between them. But after his convalescence he had morphed from a spoiled aristocrat to a caring man and devoted brother who had become her lifeline. She could not lose him.

No, Orpheus must be stopped before he could take any other lives—especially the lives of those she loved so dearly. She only wished she had the ability to stop him herself. Would that she could! But she couldn’t. She wouldn’t even be able to identify him, or know if he stood nose to nose with her. Some assistance she would bring the Guardians! she thought with a snort. She was an intelligent, honest female. She knew her limitations. It was her heart that would not admit to them.

After her talk with Adrian, she felt more resigned to her fate than ever. He was correct, of course. In the past she had been part of debates and discussions, of stories passed down from their Templar ancestors. They had never fought a true enemy. Not until Orpheus. She was not equipped to help them, or protect herself. How it stung, to admit the truth.

“Now, then, miss, you’re looking radiant and composed. I daresay your gennleman will be gobsmacked when he sees you.”

“Maggie, you’re a wonderful balm for a nervous soul,” she replied, not feeling any sense of composure. She was still rattled by the dead body that had appeared that morning, and what was more, she was horridly nervous about what lay just beyond the closed door in front of her.

“Now, there’s nothing to be worried about. That nasty bit of business this morning is done and over, and should be far from your thoughts. You sail right on into that room with Rosie here, and don’t let him see your uneasiness. Everything is out of the way. I made sure of it myself. You’ll make a grand entrance, just like a queen, and there will be nothing to cause you to stumble.”

Nodding, Elizabeth smoothed her damp palms down the sides of her skirts. She was nervous. More than nervous. She was bloody terrified. It was one thing to indulge in a short stroll around a salon with dozens of eyes watching her. Quite another to entertain a man—alone.

What will he think of me?

She had not been able to stop asking herself that question all morning. And now, after the early morning’s excitement, she was even more rattled. She must act calm and cool and collected. Neither she nor her brother could afford to make her caller suspicious of anything. She just hoped that Alynwick would not be back for hours, giving her plenty of time to entertain Sheldon, and have him depart before Alynwick and Black’s return. The marquis, she acknowledged, had been somewhat of a loose cannon that morning, and after last night’s debacle she had no wish for him to meet up with Sheldon in the hall. The less Alynwick knew of her appointments and visitors the better. The man had no right to interfere with her life, but it seemed that part of being a Brethren Guardian was protecting and smothering the blind sister of one of their group. How she despised Alynwick’s overprotective and arrogant commands, which she was still seething over.

Letting out a long breath, Lizzy forced the marquis out of her thoughts. She had worried about him on that desolate field with a gun pointed at him. It had robbed her of sleep, made her forget his past betrayal. But this morning he had seemed as fit as ever—and as surly. She had regretted almost immediately that she’d given up hours of sleep worrying over the beast. But then, it had not been all wasted, for she had put those hours to use by thinking of Sinjin’s journal and trying to piece the puzzle together. Who was the Veiled Lady whom Sinjin York had loved until his dying breath? It had been her obsession to discover the woman’s identity the moment she had finished the diary. Of course, at that time she had fancied herself having the same sort of clandestine romance, only her Lancelot had turned out to be a toad—with warts.

Now that it seemed likely she would be cast aside, unable to aid the Brethren, she needed something to do. Perhaps focusing all her attention on the diary and the identity of the woman would bring her some measure of accomplishment. At least it would give her something to ponder during the day.

“Now, don’t fret about a thing,” Maggie was saying, drawing her from her thoughts. “I’ll be in with the tea tray, and I’ll set you up all proper. His Grace has gone into his study, and has asked not be disturbed. I shall attend you, but I’ll sit out of the way while you have your visit.”

“There really isn’t a need for you to chaperone. I’m quite firmly a spinster.” Besides, it would be terribly uncomfortable to sit through this first visit while her companion watched. It was already going to be damned difficult to entertain, knowing a woman who had been connected to her father—and Sussex—had just been murdered. It was even more disconcerting to know that Lizzy was completely unable to help them in capturing the murderer. Even Lucy had been of some assistance. Lucy, who was new in their little group. It had chafed Lizzy a bit, listening to Lucy and Alynwick discussing facts and evidence. Evidence Lizzy could not see. Facts she could not supply, or provide a reasoning for.

It was not like her to be envious, but that morning she had been, and in truth, still was. That morning she had felt like an outsider. A weakling. And those feelings of inadequacy and disability plagued her still as she stood immobile, regretting her decision to allow Lord Sheldon to call on her.