enthusiasm.
Seeing that the coast was clear she gestured
to the earl to follow.
They tiptoed their way towards the stairs,
cupping the candle to dim the glow. Emma knew which bits of wood creaked and
silently indicated the same to him.
They reached the bottom step and turned
into a hallway. She led the way to the duke’s study, and after making sure that
no light showed below the crack in the door, they cautiously entered the room.
She went straight towards a tray of letters
left at the edge of a large mahogany desk. Those were the ones that the duke
would have written today. Pickering would post them in the morning.
She carefully set the candle on the table,
and taking out a paper knife she got to work. She heated the steel blade and
slipped it below the seal of the first letter.
The pile of letters was not large, and it
would take them at most an hour to finish the task. They scanned and resealed
the letters as quickly as they could.
They finally found one addressed to a man
named Nutters, who it seemed was a private investigator in London. It mentioned
the gardener, although briefly. Most of the letter was comprised of requesting
information about an investigation the duke had already engaged the man for.
The duke never said clearly what the matter was. It was all very vague, but his
words in the end were ominous.
“What does uncle mean by this bit?” Emma
asked, pointing to a section in the letter.
The earl silently read the contents:
‘I need to know if I have to take any
drastic action regarding the issue. The situation is steadily becoming worse,
and it is now hard to sift the truth from lies. I have to protect my family and
would appreciate it if you could speed up your investigations. Hire as many men
as you need. You shall be compensated. I am getting desperate, and all my hopes
now rest on your findings.’
“I have no clue. It sounds as if the duke
is in some sort of trouble. He doesn’t specify anything, so it seems he is
already suspicious of the letter falling into the wrong hands. I wonder who he
suspects would dare to go through his mail. He mentions the gardener only
briefly. He hasn’t even finished that sentence before he starts talking about
this other problem. I think this Nutters chap will write to the duke asking him
to explain more fully about the gardener, and that unfortunately means another
night of searching through his letters,” replied the earl.
“Poor uncle, I wonder what is worrying
him.”
“A duke is bound to have million problems.
I don’t think we should worry ourselves over anything other than our own
concerns. After all, he seems to have hired a professional to sort it out for
him. We cannot do anything more.”
“I suppose,” said Emma doubtfully.
“Come, it is time for bed.”
Seeing her horrified face he laughed.
“I meant, you go to your bed, and I shall
go to mine. Don’t worry, your virtue is safe … at least for the moment,” he
added wickedly.
Emma turned away in a huff and made her way
back to her room. The earl left for the servants’ staircase hidden in the
hallway. He stole a quick kiss before letting her escape.
Emma blew out the candle and slipped into
bed. She felt a pang of pity for the earl, who would be sleeping on a hard,
flea infested mattress. She put her feet on the hot bricks and reviewed the
night in her mind.
The letter the duke had written worried
her. He had sounded unlike himself, pleading for information from the unknown
Nutters. Emma would have never guessed anything was bothering the duke. He
seemed so calm and in control. No matter how many times she repeated the words
in her head, she could not guess what the duke could have possibly meant. She
sighed and closed her eyes.
Her last thought was not of the duke, or
even Mrs Barker and her antics, but the earl’s face leaning in close to kiss
her.
***
Emma woke the next morning with a pounding
headache and feeling tired from lack of sleep.
She went to the breakfast
Seeing that the coast was clear she gestured
to the earl to follow.
They tiptoed their way towards the stairs,
cupping the candle to dim the glow. Emma knew which bits of wood creaked and
silently indicated the same to him.
They reached the bottom step and turned
into a hallway. She led the way to the duke’s study, and after making sure that
no light showed below the crack in the door, they cautiously entered the room.
She went straight towards a tray of letters
left at the edge of a large mahogany desk. Those were the ones that the duke
would have written today. Pickering would post them in the morning.
She carefully set the candle on the table,
and taking out a paper knife she got to work. She heated the steel blade and
slipped it below the seal of the first letter.
The pile of letters was not large, and it
would take them at most an hour to finish the task. They scanned and resealed
the letters as quickly as they could.
They finally found one addressed to a man
named Nutters, who it seemed was a private investigator in London. It mentioned
the gardener, although briefly. Most of the letter was comprised of requesting
information about an investigation the duke had already engaged the man for.
The duke never said clearly what the matter was. It was all very vague, but his
words in the end were ominous.
“What does uncle mean by this bit?” Emma
asked, pointing to a section in the letter.
The earl silently read the contents:
‘I need to know if I have to take any
drastic action regarding the issue. The situation is steadily becoming worse,
and it is now hard to sift the truth from lies. I have to protect my family and
would appreciate it if you could speed up your investigations. Hire as many men
as you need. You shall be compensated. I am getting desperate, and all my hopes
now rest on your findings.’
“I have no clue. It sounds as if the duke
is in some sort of trouble. He doesn’t specify anything, so it seems he is
already suspicious of the letter falling into the wrong hands. I wonder who he
suspects would dare to go through his mail. He mentions the gardener only
briefly. He hasn’t even finished that sentence before he starts talking about
this other problem. I think this Nutters chap will write to the duke asking him
to explain more fully about the gardener, and that unfortunately means another
night of searching through his letters,” replied the earl.
“Poor uncle, I wonder what is worrying
him.”
“A duke is bound to have million problems.
I don’t think we should worry ourselves over anything other than our own
concerns. After all, he seems to have hired a professional to sort it out for
him. We cannot do anything more.”
“I suppose,” said Emma doubtfully.
“Come, it is time for bed.”
Seeing her horrified face he laughed.
“I meant, you go to your bed, and I shall
go to mine. Don’t worry, your virtue is safe … at least for the moment,” he
added wickedly.
Emma turned away in a huff and made her way
back to her room. The earl left for the servants’ staircase hidden in the
hallway. He stole a quick kiss before letting her escape.
Emma blew out the candle and slipped into
bed. She felt a pang of pity for the earl, who would be sleeping on a hard,
flea infested mattress. She put her feet on the hot bricks and reviewed the
night in her mind.
The letter the duke had written worried
her. He had sounded unlike himself, pleading for information from the unknown
Nutters. Emma would have never guessed anything was bothering the duke. He
seemed so calm and in control. No matter how many times she repeated the words
in her head, she could not guess what the duke could have possibly meant. She
sighed and closed her eyes.
Her last thought was not of the duke, or
even Mrs Barker and her antics, but the earl’s face leaning in close to kiss
her.
***
Emma woke the next morning with a pounding
headache and feeling tired from lack of sleep.
She went to the breakfast
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