Lord Margrave's Secret Desire by Samantha Grace

Author:Samantha Grace
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Publisher: Samantha Grace Publishing

Seventeen

“You have requested the key to Lord Geoffrey’s chambers, Your Grace?”

Perry Walsh, Duke of Stanhurst, took a gulp of brandy for fortification and turned to face the head housekeeper. “I did. I want access now.”

Mrs. Quince bowed her head. “As you wish, Your Grace. If you will follow me.” She selected a key from the ring at her waist and exited his chambers, politely acknowledging his valet as she slipped past him where he stood inside the threshold.

Perry and the housekeeper walked in silence along the narrow corridor. Mrs. Quince paused at Geoffrey’s door. “On your command, no one has entered the room. Are you certain you do not want a maid to set everything to order first?”

“Open the door.”

“As you wish, Your Grace.” Red blotches splattered her neck and cheeks. With her gaze downcast, she wiggled the key into the keyhole. The lock gave way with a clank that echoed in the empty corridor. Father had sold everything, even the thick Aubusson he and Mother had received as a wedding gift.

Before the housekeeper could scurry away like the frightened mouse she had become under his father’s employ, Perry apologized for his surliness. “I must view my brother’s chamber as he left it, and I need to do this alone.”

Mrs. Quince smiled timidly. “I understand. You will not be disturbed.”

“Thank you.”

Perry stepped inside, and the housekeeper closed the door, forcing him to face the evidence of his failure as a brother. Geoffrey’s room was almost as bare as the corridor. It had been stripped of anything of beauty or value, leaving only a bed, desk, a battered Chippendale chair, and an empty bedside table. He should have seen his brother was in trouble, but Perry had been keeping his distance. His father’s obsession with the actress had been mortifying, and the gossip circulating about his father’s cruelty had sickened him.

Stop!

Shrugging off a mantle of guilt and fury, he crossed the room to throw open the drapes. A blinding afternoon sun thrust through the leaded glass panes. He shaded his eyes with his hand and turned to survey his brother’s private space. If there was anything incriminating in the room, it should be easy to find. He approached the desk and yanked open a drawer.

His brother’s diary and two letters were neatly stacked inside. They were addressed to Geoffrey but did not identify the sender. The seal was unbroken on one of the letters, and neither included the usual markings associated with postal delivery. Had it been hand-delivered?

He broke the seal and scanned the page. It was filled with numbers. An acidic burn seeped into his belly. Dropping onto the chair, he dug out the second letter to compare. The handwriting on the front matched. Again, the page was covered in numbers, grouped in threes. His mouth grew dry.

It is encrypted.

He couldn’t be certain—God, please let me be mistaken—but another explanation evaded him. Unease spread through his limbs. Men with nothing to hide did not receive letters in cipher. Margrave’s accusations echoed through his mind.

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