The Sinner (20 page)

She knew she would not get a real answer from him while the others were nearby. She also suspected he was there because of his ridiculous claim that Hughe had killed Stephen.

Her spine tingled. She'd learned much about her husband since arriving at Sutton Hall, including that his friend Cole was a killer.

Cole.

The name scratched at the edge of her mind, but she couldn't place it.

Hislop strode into the room ahead of a scurrying Sutton Hall servant, who glanced anxiously at his master. Hislop stood in the center of the room, feet a little apart, hands on hips, looking every bit like
he
was the master.

"Who are you?" Lord Lynden asked, rising to his feet. Cat was impressed that he could put on such a haughty air in the face of Hislop's commanding stance.

"My man, Hislop," Slade said quickly.

Hislop's gaze swept over Lynden and Elizabeth with bored indifference. It stopped when it reached Cat and a sneer distorted his lips. "Lady Oxley," he said without bowing. "Always a pleasure to see you again. How Slade and I have missed you these last weeks." The slippery tone slithered across Cat's skin. She shivered and nodded a greeting.

Elizabeth closed her hand over Cat's. The gesture was a comfort. She was not alone now, she had nothing to fear from these men.

"There appears to have been a mistake," Hislop said to Lynden. "I've instructed your man to find me a room in the house. He seems to think there are none and has placed me in the stables with the grooms."

The manservant standing behind Hislop colored and bowed his head. Surely there'd been a mistake, as Hislop suggested. A house the size of Sutton Hall must have more guest chambers fit for a retainer. On the other hand, Cat liked the thought of Hislop sharing an empty stall with the spotty stable lads. She had to press her lips together hard to stop her smile from escaping.

"I, er, that is…" Lynden appealed to his man, but the servant merely pulled a face at Hislop's back. Clearly he didn't like the brute either, and thought the household would be safer with him outside.

"There are no more rooms in the house," Elizabeth cut in before her cousin could speak. "There are a number of guests at the moment and the only space is in the stables. Unless Lord Slade wishes to share with you." She arched her brow at Slade.

"No," Hislop snapped before Slade could answer. He narrowed his gaze at Elizabeth. "Who are you?"

"Elizabeth Monk, companion to Lady Oxley. Who are you?"

He turned to Cat without answering. "My, my, how you have risen. You have companions, no less! Where is your husband?"

"Out," Cat said. "I'm sure he'll be pleased to see you both, although somewhat confused as to why you came at all."

"I told you," Slade said with barely disguised irritation. "Weren't you listening?"

"I was, but I simply don't believe you. You were never interested in me before."

"On the contrary! You are family, even now. I have always been interested in your welfare. And besides, we have much to discuss. I hoped you would have some news for me." He might as well have winked at her, his intention was so obvious. It would seem he hadn't given up his quest to blame Hughe for Stephen's murder.

Cat may have her own fresh doubts about Hughe's honesty, but she would not share them with Slade. Whatever Hughe had done, he was still one hundred times the man that Slade was, and a thousand times better than Hislop.

Slade rose and approached Cat. He gave her one of his odd half-smiles that didn't reach his eyes and barely even reached the corners of his mouth. He held out his hand. "Care to walk with me, Cat?"

"Not now."

His fingers curled up. "When?"

"I don't know. I'm tired and—"

Determined footsteps approached quickly and Hughe appeared at the door, Edward Monk behind him. Between them they looked like two furious warriors seeking vengeance. Hughe's pale eyes coldly assessed Hislop and then Slade, finally settling on Cat. The rigidity left his jaw and his gaze warmed, but only a little. Rarely had she seen him look so menacing and it chilled her to the bone. Her husband was not a man to be trifled with.

"Slade," he said, flatly. "I hope you're not bothering my countess."

Slade held up his hands. A flicker of panic passed across his face and he looked to Hislop, perhaps for reassurance. Hislop remained where he was, his hands still on his hips, his eyes narrowed to pinpoints as he watched Hughe.

"Bothering her?" Slade said. "Not at all. We were about to go for a walk."

A muscle throbbed in Hughe's jaw and his fists closed at his sides. Slade eyed them warily while Hislop took a step forward. So did Edward, his fingers twitching near his sword. One quick move, one lunge, and the men would be brawling in the parlor.

"I'm not going anywhere," Cat said, rising. "My head aches. I'll be supping in my rooms tonight and don't wish to be disturbed."

Hughe watched her from beneath heavy lids. "Let me escort you to your chamber." It was not a suggestion, but a command that a wife could not refuse in front of others. It served her purposes well enough to have him with her anyway. She only wanted to diffuse the situation and get the men away from one another.

They passed by Edward, facing Hislop, his hand resting on his hip near his sword hilt in what appeared to be a casual pose, but Cat suspected was so that he could draw quickly if necessary. What had Hughe told him about the two?

"Are you all right?" Hughe asked as they climbed the stairs together. He didn't touch her, but she could sense the tension in him.

"Yes. He only just arrived."

"Do you know what he wants?"

"No." She thought about suggesting that Slade may not want anything, but she knew Hughe would see through the lie. It seemed better to keep to simple answers, and avoid Hughe altogether until Slade left.

They came to a stop in the small outer chamber that led to her bedchamber. They faced one another, but Cat couldn't meet his gaze. She knew he would see into her and know her thoughts.

He lifted his hand, but lowered it before touching her. He closed it into a fist, as if he didn't know what else to do with it. "What about…?" He cleared his throat and blew out a breath. Gone was the masculine bravado from the parlor. He seemed to be having difficulty speaking. "Have you thought about what I said last night?"

"You mean do I believe you no longer keep mistresses?"

He flinched and inclined his head in a nod.

"I have thought about it. It's all I've thought about until Slade arrived."

"And?" The word was barely a whisper.

She sucked in a deep breath and let it out slowly. "And I know you're lying about something, Hughe."

He blinked rapidly. His swallow was audible. The fop was nowhere to be seen, thank goodness, but gone too was the self-assuredness that Hughe always possessed in abundance. The absence of it shocked her to the core. He'd never shown shyness or doubt, even when his defenses were lowered during their lovemaking. His cockiness was very much a part of Hughe, something she hadn't realized until now when it was nowhere to be seen.

Dark shadows circled his eyes and extra lines tugged at his mouth. He looked exhausted. Resisting the urge to draw him into her arms and hold him was the hardest thing she'd ever done. She ached to cradle his head in her lap as he drifted off to sleep, and to lie with him until he woke up. But there would be no intimacy between them now.

He looked away, dragging his hand through his hair, already messed up from his day's ride, and down the back of his neck. "Bolt your doors tonight. Until I find out why they're here, don't trust them." His gaze flicked to hers then away. "Good night, Cat." He bowed stiffly and walked off.

Cat watched him go with a bruised heart. It would seem keeping his secrets to himself was more important to him than his wife.

***

"M'lady," said one of Cat's maids when she awoke the next morning. "Your husband is outside."

"Oh?" She sat up in bed and rubbed her eyes. "Does he request an audience with me?"

"No, m'lady. He's asleep sitting up in a chair by the door. He's wearing the same clothes he wore yesterday. I think he's been there all night."

Cat blinked at the closed door leading to the outer chamber. Her heart sank. Hughe had been there all night to keep Slade and Hislop from her door? He would have slept terribly, and he was already exhausted.

She got up and threw a housecoat around her. She padded across the rush matting and opened the door. Hughe wasn't there. She looked at the maid and the maid frowned at the empty room.

"He was here a few moments ago, m'lady! God's truth, I saw him right there in that chair, his head tipped back against the wall."

"Perhaps you disturbed him and he woke."

The maids served her breakfast in the sitting room then dressed her. Still Hughe did not appear. Had he retreated to his bedchamber to sleep some more? Or had he left the house already to do whatever it was he and Edward did during the day?

She thought about trying to extract some answers from Elizabeth again, but knew she'd fail. Elizabeth was loyal to her husband and her husband was loyal to Hughe. That didn't stop Elizabeth from seeking Cat out, however.

"Shall we go for a walk in the gardens?" Elizabeth asked. "It's a lovely morning."

"As you wish."

They headed out to the terraced garden and strolled along the gravel path in the sunshine. The day promised to be another hot one. To Cat's surprise, and relief, Slade and Hislop were nowhere in sight.

"Did my husband ask you to stay close to me today?" Cat asked.

Elizabeth plucked a pink rose petal from a bush beside the path. "He's worried about you, with those men here." She touched Cat's hand. "He told me that they've been cruel to you in the past."

"Sometimes I wonder if that's why Hughe married me. Because he was worried about leaving me with them." She gave a hollow laugh. "But that's silly. Of course, he married me because he had to. The pressure from the dowager must have been enormous."

"True. That's why he married. As to why he married
you
…
do
you know?" She smelled the rose petal, without taking her gaze off Cat.

"I confess that I don't. I'm undemanding, I suppose, agreeable. Someone he could live with and who would put up with his mother and not throw her out at the first opportunity if he…died. He professes not to care for her, but he does. Very much. She's all he had in the world for a long time, and he's taken good care of her since her health declined. Her companions told me all that he's done to make her life easier since his father passed and he inherited the title. It's not insignificant."

"He's like that," Elizabeth said quietly. "He takes great care of the things he loves, even though he's not always aware that he loves them."

Cat stopped and stared at her. Was Elizabeth trying to tell her that Hughe loved her?

"Cat! There you are!" a grating male voice interrupted.

She looked up to see Slade approaching from the house. Hislop was nowhere to be seen. Good. Cat could manage her brother-in-law when he was on his own.

"May I speak to you?" he said, breathing heavily from the exertion of catching up to them.

"Of course." She waited, but he glanced at Elizabeth. "Elizabeth, if you wouldn't mind," Cat said. "I need to speak to Slade alone."

Poor Elizabeth looked caught. Hughe had given her one order, and now Cat gave her another. But Cat would not be put off. She'd gotten over her shock at Slade's arrival and now it was time to get rid of him. The only way to do that was to talk to him, tell him she thought his idea regarding Hughe was mad, and order him to leave. She outranked him now. She could do this.

"I'll be all right," she assured Elizabeth. "Perhaps go and find Mr. Hislop and see that he has everything he needs."

Elizabeth must have understood that Hislop was the real threat and that finding him would ensure she could keep both Hughe and Cat happy. She nodded and left, although she didn't look too pleased about it.

"What do you want, Slade?" she asked. Forget preamble and niceties; she wanted this discussion to be over. She wanted him gone from her life forever. "Why are you really at Sutton Hall?"

"Walk with me."

"No. We remain here and you answer my questions."

"My, my. Your rise has gone to your head. Do you forget where you came from? Hmmm? You were nothing before my brother married you."

"And I will always be grateful to him for thinking me worthy of becoming his baroness. I will not, however, be grateful for the situation he left me in upon his death."

"His
untimely
death." He plucked the head of a rose off the bush and pressed it to his nose. When Elizabeth had taken in the scent of the petal, it had been the act of a lady admiring a lovely flower. Slade made the same action seem sordid, like the unnecessary destruction of something pure and sweet.

"Is that what you want to discuss with me?" Cat asked.

He threw the flower away. "You know it is."

"Do I?"

"Don't play games with me, Cat. We've known each other a long time. It's true that I want to seek vengeance for Stephen's murder."

"You didn't when he died. Indeed, you were quite certain it was an accident then. You refused to believe me when I suggested something sinister was afoot."

"That was before I spoke to the witness, Wright. Ever since then, anger has boiled inside me. I want answers and I want the murderer uncovered for the cur he is. My brother had his faults, but he didn't deserve to have his life cut short."

"We agree on that."

"Do we? I wondered…"

She frowned. "Wondered what?"

"Whether you were too enamored of your new life as the countess of Oxley to care about Stephen."

"Of course I care. I also think he was murdered, but not by Oxley. Why would he do it?"

"Assassination, of course. A cuckolded husband employed him to kill Stephen."

Cat scoffed and walked off, away from the house. "That's absurd. He's no assassin."

His footsteps came up behind her, very close. "Isn't he?" He grabbed her arm and jerked her to a stop. His long fingers pressed into her skin, cutting off the blood flow. "I've been gathering proof ever since arriving. Proof that he's not merely an earl. He's something altogether more dangerous."