Chapter Eighteen. Safe Harbor

C HAPTER E IGHTEEN

Safe Harbor

THE earth gave way beneath my feet with the girl’s words. They’ve arrested Mr. Owen. He’d confessed. Why would he do such a thing? I knew good and well he hadn’t harmed a hair on Lucy Campbell’s head as he’d been snoring away in his room when I left to meet her that night.

“Are you all right?” She shot to her feet, touching my elbow gently. “I’m sorry, I assumed you’d already heard the news. Everyone has been talking about it all morning. I was looking for you and couldn’t find you, then I thought to go tell his gentleman friend earlier, but couldn’t find him either.”

I was going to be sick. The entire time Ruan and I were arguing in his room Mr. Owen was in danger.

“Is he still here or have the authorities—” My mouth grew dry and I couldn’t finish the thought.

“I believe so, the inspector was waiting on someone to come down from Edinburgh. I think because he’s a viscount it makes things a little more…” The girl hesitated.

“Complicated?”

“Yes, that.” She twisted her hands nervously. Lady Amelia went on for a few more minutes before making some excuse and leaving, but I scarcely heard a word leaving her lips.

I was utterly adrift and no closer to finding the true killer than when I arrived. All I had were a handful of glass plate negatives, a bizarre ring that Mr. Owen was terrified of, and the knowledge that no one in this damnable estate was who they pretended to be.

Hot tears flooded my eyes. Oh, Mr. Owen. How was I to get him out of this? I licked my lips as I heard the door creak open.

Wiping at the wetness on my face with my hands, I struggled to mask my emotions behind that well-polished veneer my mother had taught me to wear. Hide yourself from them, Ruby darling. Don’t let them know what you are. Christ, at almost thirty years old I didn’t even know who I was.

“Oh, Miss Vaughn, there you are! This is terrible. Just terrible,” the duke muttered, rushing into the room, looking every bit as frantic as I felt.

“You’ve heard the news?”

“Andrew’s driver found us and told us what happened. Have you spoken to him? Do you know where he is?” The duke had lost his composure and the words tumbled out of his mouth as if he could not control them. It felt strangely good to be with someone as horrified as I was at the revelation that Mr. Owen had confessed to a crime he didn’t commit.

“I just found out myself. I’m told he’s to be held at the castle until the inspector can bring in someone from Edinburgh.”

The duke let out a startled sound as he rubbed his jaw, his golfing cap in his other hand. “I cannot think what compelled him to do such a reckless thing. If I had known he was at risk…” He shook his head. “This should not have happened. It cannot happen. I will speak to the authorities, have him released into my custody. Surely there are some privileges accorded to a duke.”

I dared not hope. “Do you think the inspector would allow it?”

The duke nodded. “My family estate is on the Isle of May. I have little doubt that I can convince the inspector to let him stay there until the trial at least. Hawick is an old man, he would not survive a week in prison. It is unthinkable.”

He was right, of course. I’d briefly spent time in prison thanks to Mr. Owen’s penchant for dealing in illegal books and it was no place I wished to return. It was certainly no place for an eighty-year-old man. “Mr. Owen does as he pleases. It’s one of his most infuriating and endearing qualities.”

The duke’s expression softened. “That it is. I’ve always admired that about him. As a boy I used to want to be him. Thought if I read the same books and appreciated the same art, that somehow I would be able to become a fraction of the man he was.”

“Is.” I corrected.

The duke’s brows rose in silent question.

“The man he is. You speak as if his conviction is a foregone conclusion. It is not.” I gritted my teeth, sounding far more assured than I felt. “I simply have to find the real killer, then we can clear his name.”

“I do not see how anyone can accomplish that, Miss Vaughn, but I wish you luck. I assure you I will not let harm come to him whilst in my care. Pack his things, I’ll speak to the inspector and we can be on our way to Rivenly within the hour. I’ll send a man back for his trunks once I have him safe. But I must get Hawick away from here before he manages to get himself into more trouble.”

I nodded, but knowing Mr. Owen he’d only find himself up to his ears in more of the stuff, no matter how desperately we tried to save him.