Who's that Earl by Susanna Craig

Author:Susanna Craig
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Published: 2020-05-06T23:21:49+00:00

Chapter 13

Jane had hoped to feel a sense of relief at telling someone her deepest, darkest secret. A sense of triumph at having guessed another’s. Instead she felt vulnerable. Agitated.

Or maybe those feelings were the fault of the letter.

She watched Thomas stride toward the desk. Neither his expression nor his posture betrayed any reaction to her use of his title. Perhaps she’d been wrong after all? He picked up the letter and studied it for so long, she felt certain he had forgotten about her. Then he returned the paper to its place and, without looking up, asked, “How long have you known who I am?”

So, she’d guessed right. She drew a breath, wishing he would look at her. “Last night, I thought for certain you must have been sent by the new earl, despite your denial. But while I was in the village this morning, I heard news that he had recently been seen in Edinburgh and would likely make his way to Dunnock to take stock of things. When I thought of how far you’d come, your family connections to the Balisaig, I began to realize it was far more likely you were Lord Magnus. All the pieces fit.”

“Do they?” He raised his face to hers. The customary lightness of his expression had been replaced by a degree of bitterness, a shadow of self-doubt she would not have thought him capable of feeling. “If you were suspicious of me from the first, I suppose I ought not to be surprised that you wouldn’t kiss me.”

For years, she had hidden, denied, lied. But where had it got her?

“I wish now that I had.”

He came around in front of the desk, leaning his hips against it as he crossed his arms over his chest. “Do you?”

She nodded, glanced toward the letter on the desktop, and licked suddenly dry lips. “I could use a distraction.”

Some of the familiar, mischievous warmth flickered in his answering gaze, though he said nothing.

“You weren’t entirely shocked when I said I’m Robin Ratliff, were you?”

He lifted one shoulder in reluctant acknowledgment. “Your note tonight and the snow were the last pieces in the puzzle. It was easy enough to see that no carriage had come in or out today, which meant the mysterious Ratliff had to have been in the castle all along. What you’d told me this morning, about Higginbotham and about your family, made me wonder whether there wasn’t more to tell. After we parted, I took a stroll around the outer bailey and came upon old Dougan caring for his donkeys. Despite his stern warnings, I poked around a bit in an empty stall and found—”

“The curricle,” she finished, pursing her lips and shaking her head. She might have known she’d be betrayed eventually by one of the little extravagances she’d allowed herself.

“The red racing curricle,” he agreed. And winked. “Perfectly suited to what I thought I knew of Dunnock’s tenant. But Dougan insisted it was yours. When I added it together with the rest, I began to suspect how things lay.

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