Lady in Red, Eliza Knight [have you read this book TXT] 📗

she could give her daughter the life she deserved. Wishful thinking.

Using her thumb and index finger, Elizabeth picked at the twine until it came undone. Then she unfolded the paper, smoothing it flat and revealing in its center, her red hat, a stack of crisp bills and an envelope with her name scrawled on it in long, elegant strokes—handwriting she did not recognize.

She opened the envelope and pulled out the letter with an “S” inked in a voluminous scroll at the top.

My dear Elizabeth,

This was Terrence’s writing. She stroked her fingers over it, never having seen it before.

First, I want to offer my condolences to you on the death of Linden. I had no idea he’d passed away. The last I saw of him, he was taking a significant payment to one of our suppliers. I never saw him again. I mistakenly assumed he’d run off with my money. However James’s investigations seem to lead to another conclusion.

Elizabeth let out a shaky breath, closing her eyes from the rest of the letter for a moment. Indeed. Linden had been attacked on his way to the drop. He’d been manning a carriage with the hefty coin chest without another man to help him.

Linden had been left to die in the middle of the road.

It was only because someone was kind enough to come and find Elizabeth at the baker’s shop where she’d been working that she knew he’d been hurt. Linden confessed to her then that he’d been on an errand for Terrence. He kept muttering Terrence’s name, and when she asked who was responsible, he’d said Terrence.

How could Terrence deny any knowledge of this? How could he deny that he’d sent Linden out alone, without protection, carrying a king’s ransom? Terrence might as well have been the man to rob him—and maybe he was. After all, Linden said that Terrence was to blame.

Elizabeth picked up the red hat and threw it across the room, the soft fabric barely making a sound as it drifted peacefully to the floor.

She wanted to burn the bills one by one beneath the candle’s flame, but she knew that was out of the question. The money would, without doubt, help her and Sarah to live comfortably for another year. But why had he sent it to her?

I understand that Linden’s untimely death left you without a penny to your name and with a child to take care of. I want to assure you that I’ve hired men to investigate the robbery that resulted in your husband’s death.

I’ve included in this package enough money to help you get by for a time. When it runs out, do not hesitate to contact me. I want you to know that I loved you, Elizabeth, whatever the circumstances were that led you to me. I still do. I’d have you back if you’d allow it. Even your little child—an extension of you. I would not have cast you out if you’d only been honest and told me what had happened. As much as I want to forget you, to be angry at you for lying to me, to never forgive you for leaving me and disappearing, I can’t. You’re a part of me. I’ve felt empty without you.

You’re still my wife—if you want to be.

With all my love,

Terrence

Oh, dear God. Still his wife…how true those words were, even though she’d made him believe otherwise. He wanted her back. He was willing to take in Sarah too. Was the man mad?

What would society think of the great Earl of Shaftesbury now? Married to street trash and raising her dead husband’s child…

Elizabeth frowned down at the letter, glowing orange in the candlelight. Terrence had never cared about the upper crust and what they thought. He lived for doing what felt right in his heart. It was the reason he built his luxury ships—the reason behind hiring Linden to run his errands and supervise his employees. The reason why he’d stopped his horse, climbed down and taken Elizabeth by the hand, never looking back. It was one of the many reasons she’d fallen in love with him.

Finding him in Hyde Park had been on purpose. She wanted to rail at him over the death of her husband, but she’d lost her nerve. And then she’d fallen in love. She couldn’t in her mind put the two very different versions of Terrence that she had together.

Caught in the whirlwind, she’d plummeted. Lost in the lie, consumed by love.

Her heart told her to scoop up little Sarah and run towards Shaftesbury Avenue. But her head told her to take the money and run in the opposite direction—toward hope for a better life for Sarah in Scotland.

She’d followed her head before and ended up miserable for the last two years. Maybe this time, she should go with her heart and hear what Terrence had to say. Make him explain why Linden might think Terrence was to blame for him being jumped by a crew of ruffians.

The morning seemed too far away.

But though she was out of the East End, Charing Cross was still dangerous at night, and she wouldn’t risk the safety of her child. Speaking with Terrence would have to wait till morning.

7

Terrence reclined in his study in a wing-backed leather chair, his sleeves rolled up, cravat tossed somewhere, and his shirt unbuttoned halfway. He ran his hands through his hair and watched the sun trying to break through the gray morning clouds. Sleep had been nonexistent. James had returned from finding the grave and speaking with many of Linden’s acquaintances in the East End. Now, Terrence knew that his employee had been murdered following his directive.

James had also told Terrence about the living conditions Elizabeth suffered through with her young daughter, and it had taken every effort he had not to march over there and demand she come home with him. But Terrence knew better. After their confrontation days ago, it was apparent now more than ever how stubborn she was.