Chapter 38

CHAPTER 38

T he guests had begun to arrive sooner than Hanna anticipated, and she’d already found herself greeting more people than she cared to. Her anxiety had spiraled completely out of control as she rushed across the ballroom, where intricate chalk drawings had been applied to the hardwood floor to keep the dancers from slipping.

Normally, she would have admired the artistry, the way the swirls of white chalk added an elegant touch to the atmosphere. But today, there was no room in her mind for such pleasantries. Her heart had been pounding all day, a terrible premonition weighing heavily on her chest.

Edwin was up to something—something dangerous—but what? Was he going to search her father’s study? What was he planning?

He had been all too eager to attend the ball, and now she was certain he had lied to her about making peace with Benjamin’s death. His restlessness and avoidance had been painfully obvious, and the toll it was taking on her was unmistakable. Sleep had evaded her, and the nights, once a solace, had become her enemy. The dark circles under her eyes were evidence of her sleepless nights, and despite the crushed pearl powder she had applied in a futile attempt to hide them, she felt as though the entire room could see through her polished exterior.

“Hanna, there you are! I’ve been looking for you,” Emma called out, her voice carrying a hint of concern.

Hanna shook her head, trying to compose herself. “No, no. I’m just waiting for Edwin. He was supposed to arrive with Martin, but they haven’t yet.”

“A great many others have, though,” Emma remarked, nodding toward the ballroom. “I’m surprised how many people are here. Father hardly has the best reputation.”

“Well, he is now the father-in-law of two dukes,” Hanna pointed out, scanning the crowd. “And Alexander was recently made a marquess. That has surely helped. Though I doubt any of them truly want to be associated with Father.”

Emma sighed. “I had hoped things would change, with Harry in the family, and now Edwin too… But Father will always be who he is—a dreadful, dreadful man.”

Hanna squeezed her sister’s arm, offering what little comfort she could. “You will get away from him, Emma. I’ll make sure of it.”

Emma opened her mouth to respond, but her words were cut off by a subtle change in the room’s atmosphere. “Oh, Edwin. How handsome he looks,” she teased, her tone lightening. “And his friend… What is his name? Chester?”

“Martin Clark, the Marquess of Chester,” Hanna said as she turned to look, and was momentarily struck by Edwin’s appearance.

Her husband looked just as dashing as the day she had first laid eyes on him, but the weight of the secrets between them hung in the air like an invisible shroud.

“I should greet him,” she muttered, before excusing herself from her sister.

As she made her way across the ballroom, her eyes followed Edwin and Martin as they greeted her father. She had refused to stand in the receiving line with him, and Emma had followed suit. Their father had made too many threats, caused too much damage. But now, something far more urgent demanded her attention.

When she entered the ballroom, her heart stopped. Couples were already dancing, smudging the beautiful chalk drawings she had admired earlier. But none of that mattered because, standing with Martin, was a man she recognized all too well.

That red hair. He was the same ginger-haired man she had seen that day in the drawing room.

“Your Grace,” Martin greeted with a smooth smile. “May I introduce my cousin, Mr. Henry Stanton, from Galway, Ireland.”

Hanna barely heard the name. She was too focused on the man bowing before her, his thick Irish accent dripping with false politeness.

Her mind raced. This was the man she had seen passing by the drawing room door. One of the men Edwin had hired—the investigators. And they were here, at her father’s house.

“Have you seen my husband?” she asked, her voice tight.

Martin nodded, unaware of her inner turmoil. “Yes, he’s with my other cousin, showing him the gallery, I believe.”

Hanna’s blood ran cold. The gallery? The direction Martin had indicated didn’t lead to the gallery; it led to the private rooms—her father’s study, the music room, places no guest should be allowed in without permission.

If Edwin was leading the other investigator there, then that meant they were searching for evidence. And if they found it…

Her heart thudded painfully in her chest. If they uncovered the original letters—the ones her father had shown her—everything would unravel. Her father’s forgeries would be exposed. And worse, if her father discovered Edwin’s plan, he wouldn’t hesitate to eliminate him.

Edwin’s life was in danger. She had to stop them.

Without another thought, Hanna hiked the skirts of her gown and broke into a run, ignoring the startled glances and whispers that followed her.