Chapter 27

MAB PACED HER ROOM as Tilly recounted every detail of her afternoon tea with Benedict. She tried her very best to concentrate on everything Tilly had to say and did a good job of it until Tilly asked how it had gone with William.

Then her vision was flooded by liquid bronze eyes under dark lashes and a sinfully devious smile that made her heart flutter against her ribs like a wild bird trapped in a cage. He’d been roguishly handsome with his stubble, but clean shaven, she thought she might slice her finger if she were to trace it along his jawline. Mab shook her head in a bid to dispel the increasingly sinful thoughts she was having.

Liar. He’s a liar, Mab , she reminded herself

William had lied to her like it was nothing. He’d said he had no family aside from an estranged sister, which was categorically untrue. He had a brother and a sister-in-law, which he would have to tell Mab about at some point if he wished to pursue her. He couldn’t possibly think that he could hide his relation to the Viscount and Viscountess indefinitely. So why lie about it?

If she could just sit down with someone and voice her suspicions ... but she certainly couldn’t do so with Tilly. Tilly had only just found a man she was comfortable enough with to contemplate a future for her and her little boy. Mab had no intention of reminding her that potentially dangerous men could be lurking even in the halls of Gaol Manor.

“Mab?” Tilly asked.

“Apologies, Tilly. I occasionally get lost in my own thoughts.”

“You do that rather often,” Tilly said, though not unkindly. The smile she wore was the brightest Mab had seen from the young woman to date, and it broke her heart a little. Mab desperately wanted the business with William to be a misunderstanding, for it would shatter what little confidence her friend had found to know that her potential love interest was joined at the hip to someone who was not beyond murdering his brother.

Mab simply had to get to the bottom of the mystery.

And if it is a misunderstanding, make him yours, a traitorous voice called from somewhere in the depths of her ivory dome.

Mab grit her teeth before fashioning a smile on her face. “The meeting with William went fine.”

“Fine?” Tilly parroted. “I sneaked a peek a couple of times. The way he looked at you, Mab ...” Tilly’s tone was disturbingly dreamy as she continued, “If that is not a m-man in love, then I don’t know what is.”

The fluttering in her chest returned with a vengeance, as if her heart was desperate to escape her body.

A man in love.

Mab had never imagined a man could love her and her ways, at least among the gentry. She was unabashedly herself and had no intention of changing. She did not need nor want acts of chivalry to prove a man’s devotion to her – for what did pulling out a chair or opening doors prove to her about a man’s true essence? Many women fell victim to the trap that was chivalry, believing they had found a love match in the man who offered them his jacket. Gentlemen were trained to do those acts from a young age, and there was certainly nothing genuine about a chivalrous act. Short of taking a bullet for her, there would be very little that could prove to Mab that a man genuinely had her best interests at heart.

Though he didn’t baulk when you pulled your chair out for yourself , that little voice inside her head said. In fact, he seemed somewhat impressed that you didn’t allow him the chance to do the gentlemanly thing.

He probably thought of me as a novelty, she told herself.

But a small part of her wanted to believe she’d found the one thing she’d told herself was impossible to find: a man who could embrace her and who could respect her need to be treated as an equal and not just a pretty possession to add to his collection.

Again, Mab grit her teeth. She was getting carried away. It did not matter if he looked as if he was a man in love. Nor did it matter that she was attracted to him, and daydreaming about how he might potentially have values that aligned with hers. If he were prepared to be involved in a plot to murder his own brother for financial gains, then he could be her soulmate and she still could not bring herself to open her heart for him, no less spread her legs.

“I believe it would be presumptuous to assume something as significant as love after only a few exchanged words,” Mab said. She regretted her words the moment they left her mouth. The bright smile faded from Tilly, her eyes dropping to the floor as she clasped her fingers together.

“Y-you do not believe that one may know a person’s s-soul so quickly?” Tilly said, her gaze remaining fixedly on the floor.

An image of Benedict flashed through her mind. The boy was besotted with Tilly, that much was clear. And the way he looked at her was not the gaze of someone who covets, but the gaze of someone who saw perfection where others saw weakness and a liability. Tilly had told him her story and spoken of her son. He had not spoken of his sorrow that it had happened to her and the burden a bastard child of rape was. He had spoken of her strength, his admiration of her determination to heal, her uncompromisable loyalty to her son .

Yes , thought Mab. Two souls could instantly connect.

“I am sorry, Tilly. I misspoke. I do believe that one can know the soul of another in an instant.” Mab reached out and placed her hand on Tilly’s. “And I do genuinely believe that Benedict is a good and honest man, one that is perfect for you in every conceivable way.”

MAB SPENT THE NEXT morning exploring the manor with Emily ... or rather, exploring the many hobbies Emily had partaken in during her time at Gaol Manor. It felt odd to have free time – Mab’s time thus far having been filled with meetings and greetings, near-death experiences and the contemplation of plots to murder.

Emily had been at Aunt áine’s for a full two years. In those two years she’d learned to ride, to garden, to play the clarinet, the cello and the harp, to paint, pall-mall, archery and about every card game known to mankind. She had learned every activity offered at the manor with unabashed enthusiasm – any activity that didn’t involve a needle and thread, that is, which Emily was, in her own words, abysmal at. Additionally, she’d taught herself everything there was to know about Greek and Roman history and was currently spending her time in the study researching her newest passion, the science arts. Not to mention that she had somehow found the time to pen a romance novel between all her activities. This seemed to be a piece of information that Emily hadn’t meant to share, for when Mab asked if she needed someone to read over it, Emily blushed furiously and said it was a very kind offer, but it wasn’t quite ready for another set of eyes just yet, before quickly changing the subject.

Mab had always had a busy mind, desperate with the need to be doing something, whether that was looking after her father’s household, managing the farm and its tenants, the collection of rents, the account books, the arranging of repairs ... the list simply didn’t stop. Not for the first time, she wondered if her brothers had survived and she’d had all this leisurely time on her hands, would she too have filled it like Emily?

Perhaps .

The notion of having enough free time to pen a romance novel had certainly crossed Mab’s mind a few times. But Mab enjoyed her responsibilities in running the household and the lands.

Mab wondered if her future husband – for if she was to leave this place, it would only be with a husband – would afford her the responsibilities that her father had.

She wondered if Mark, the captain she had danced with, might be a good suit for her. While he wasn’t quite the rugged man she’d always envisioned herself with, and there was no physical attraction there, perhaps her mind could grow to love him, even if her body couldn’t? Besides, he would likely be at sea most of the time, meaning he would be less inclined to baulk at the idea of his wife having a more active role in the running of things. She briefly wondered if he indeed had anything in his estate to run aside the household.

William , that treacherous voice deep within called to her. Your body responds to William.

Mab doused the thought instantly.

While her body did indeed have a disappointing attraction towards William (she certainly couldn’t deny that no matter how much she wished it were untrue), it was her mind that had the justifiable aversion to him.

And if Mab valued anything above all else, it was her mind.

No. William Blackwater was turning out to be just as dark a character as society would have had her believe.

She hadn’t proved the plot to murder – yet – but he had shown himself deplorable in other ways.

His clear distaste for her at the soiree had been palpable, and he’d outright snubbed her at one point. The following day at tea, he seemed to have completely changed, his charm disarming to the point where he’d almost fooled even her – quite the trained gentleman indeed .

He didn’t think any less of you when you told him about your lack of virtue, the voice said. In fact, he seemed rather intrigued by your ingenuity to kill three birds with one stone and rescue heirlooms, quell a blackmailer and rebuff a proposal in one go.

Mab couldn’t find an argument to this.

But it didn’t matter, because most damning of all, she’d proven him to be a liar. He had blatantly lied to her face about having a brother.

He did tell you the truth about his financial state —

“Mab, are you quite alright, dear?” Emily asked. She sipped her tea before adding, “You were making the most intriguing of faces. I’ve been told I do that on the rare occasion that I’m left to my own thoughts. It is most interesting to watch someone else do it, though!”

“Ah, yes. I’m quite fine,” Mab said, attempting to school her face into ladylike impassiveness.

“You wouldn’t be thinking of a certain tall, dark and handsome man whose name rhymes with Billiam , by any chance?”

“No!” Mab blurted out before she had a chance to form a single sensible thought in her mind.

Emily giggled. It was a lovely sound that had a slight prickle of jealousy flittering over Mab’s skin. The image of William, eyes glaring at her as she approached him before turning and asking Emily to dance, flashed in her mind.

No, not jealousy, Mab reminded herself. It might have felt like jealousy at the time, but she’d since learned many deplorable things about William Blackwater, and she was simply being protective of her friend, wanting to ensure that Emily didn’t leave this place with a man who was capable of such dastardly things.

“Well, that is a pity,” Emily said, before taking another sip of tea. “He seems besotted with you.”

Mab, who had ill-timed a sip of tea, almost choked .

Emily, who was evidently used to accidentally causing those in her company to choke on beverages, reached over, thumped Mab hard on the back three times, and settled back into her seat.

“William is not besotted with me,” Mab managed to say, her voice short and raspy.

“May I offer some advice as someone who has been here longer than most?” Emily asked. Before Mab had the chance to respond, Emily continued, “We have all ended up here for one reason or another. Sometimes, it’s against our will.” Emily’s lips tightened. “But often, it is as a last hope to find the thing that can’t be found on the outside. That occasionally leaves people vulnerable, coming to terms with what they have to offer another. And vulnerability presents in many different ways. Sometimes all it needs is a chance to find oneself.” Emily smiled and gestured to the stack of books she’d collected as reading material for that evening. “Sometimes it needs time to heal.” Emily took a breath, and Mab knew her thoughts were on Tilly. “Other times, it simply needs another handful of minutes to collect its thoughts before being confronted – a few minutes, perhaps, filled by dancing with another.”

Before Mab had a chance to process what Emily had said, the door swung open, and an excited squeal filled the air. Mab turned to find a red-faced Tilly, clearly embarrassed at having found Mab not alone, clutching a letter in her hands. “S-sorry to interrupt,” she said quietly.

“Not at all, dear,” Emily said. “In fact, I’m glad you came along to keep Mab company as I was just about to leave for my painting lesson with Diane.” Emily stood up and brushed her skirts. “She is an absolutely delightful person in all aspects, though I do believe I push her quite to her limits in patience as a teacher.”

Emily offered Tilly a smile as she strode past her. Tilly didn’t move from her spot until the door softly clicked shut, at which point she crossed the room in a flurry and set herself on the edge of the seat Emily had just vacated .

“It’s Benedict!” she said, her voice unusually squeaky. “He asked if I would like to take an evening stroll in the g-garden with him! He asked if you would join William as a chaperone.”