Once a Rake by Eileen Dreyer

Author:Eileen Dreyer [Dreyer, Eileen]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Publisher: Grand Central Publishing
Published: 2013-10-29T05:00:00+00:00

Even though it was still broad daylight, Sarah took the chance of discovery. The ladies were still out along the undercliff somewhere, and Artie inside practicing Scarlatti. Making very certain that she had no witness but Willoughby, Sarah made her way down to the cellar door. She noticed on her way past Boswell’s arbor that for a change, his rosebushes looked good. She was glad. Boswell loved those roses.

Slipping down into the hollow, she pushed past the screening bush. Since she’d never been to the cellar during the afternoon, she didn’t know what to expect. She dreaded seeing Corporal Briggs. Just the thought crawled through her like worms. She would not betray her fear, though. She would not give him the satisfaction.

The first thing she saw was Ian standing by his cot, hands behind his back as if at military revue, his stance rigid. Sarah thought it odd, but she was more interested in her news. She looked around to make sure Briggs was out of earshot.

He wasn’t there at all. “The corporal . . .”

“George came and got him. You won’t have to worry about him anymore.”

Her attention caught by the blanket that remained on the floor by the crates, Sarah nodded absently. “Good. That will make this much easier.”

If she were a better person, she would hope that George didn’t treat the man too harshly. She hoped George broke his other arm.

Sucking in a breath, she turned back to Ian. “Your letter did not come in yet,” she said without preamble. “But there is something much more important.”

Seeing the flask sitting on the cot, she picked it up and opened it. “I saw her,” she said, pointing to those laughing blue eyes inside. “She’s here, Ian. At Lyme Regis. Someone betrayed you and sent for her. We have to do something.”

Oddly, he didn’t react. Sarah couldn’t understand it. “Did you hear me?”

Silence. Finally, “I did.”

“Then talk to me. Tell me what to do.”

“Oh, I don’t know Sarah,” he said, his voice very quiet. For some reason, the tone sent frissons slithering down her back. “I think you need to tell me what to do first.”

She frowned, completely disoriented. “About what?”

“About the body buried under your rosebushes.”

Even then she didn’t react, sure he meant something else. But he didn’t.

“Your husband isn’t coming home, is he, Sarah?” Ian demanded. “He isn’t coming home, because he’s already here, where you buried him.”

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