Briggs, and leave the castle.”
“No! I can’t…I won’t leave you—”
“Listen to me, Amy.” Cecilia heard the thread of hysteria in Amy’s voice, and struggled to keep her own voice calm. “You and Mrs. Briggs must take Isabella out of the castle at once. Do you understand me? I’ll be right behind you.”
Amy was sobbing now, but after a pause in which Cecilia prayed harder than she’d ever prayed before, she heard Amy’s retreating footsteps, and a door being thrown open at the other end of the hallway.
“See? Clever, just as I said.” Lady Leanora’s smile was strangely benevolent, but her eyes were pure, blue ice as she hovered the lit end of the taper inches away from the silk drapes. “I think it’s best if we keep this business between us.”
Chapter Twenty-four
“What will you do with yourself, once we’ve caught your ghost, Darlington?” Haslemere blew on his gloved hands to warm them, releasing a cloud of frosty breath. “Kent will be dull enough without a haunting to keep you busy.”
They’d ridden out early to the northernmost edge of the grounds in search of the ghost. Gideon didn’t expect they’d find her so far from the castle, but this morning they’d sent Haslemere’s men out in pairs to search the western, eastern, and southern borders of the property nonetheless, with orders to reconvene at the edge of the forest this afternoon.
By the time the sun set this evening, not a single acre of Darlington earth would remain unturned. If the White Lady was on his grounds, they’d find her. Gideon released a breath, some of the tension in his shoulders easing as they neared the tree line leading to the formal grounds. The closer he remained to the castle and its inhabitants, the easier he was.
He turned to Haslemere with a shrug. “I’ve had enough excitement these past few months.” A ghost, a haunted castle, a broken engagement, and a heart full of love, beating once again. “The duller Kent is, the better.”
“Oh, I imagine you’ll find some way to pass the time.” Haslemere darted a sly glance at Gideon. “Tell me, how does Cecilia do this morning, Darlington? She’s recovered from last night’s ordeal, I hope?”
More than recovered, judging by her, ah…enthusiasm this morning. Gideon’s cock ached every time he thought of her soft lips and the brush of her hair against his skin. So he did his best not to think of her, as he didn’t choose to spend a day in the saddle battling a persistent erection. “She seemed well enough. I only saw her for a moment.”
Haslemere snorted. “A memorable moment, by the looks of you today.”
“I have no idea what you mean,” Gideon replied, pinching his lips together. There were times when Haslemere’s acute powers of perception were a great nuisance.
“Not a thing.” Haslemere gave an innocent shrug. “Unless it’s that you’re a damned fool if you don’t declare your love for her, make her your marchioness, and be done with it, that’s all.”
A half-hearted protest rose to Gideon’s lips. Not because he didn’t intend to make Cecilia his marchioness, but because she should be the first person to hear him say it, not Haslemere. “I wasn’t going to—”
“Of course, you were. For God’s sake, Darlington. Do you think I don’t recognize that absurd, besotted expression on your face?” Haslemere laughed. “We’ve known each other since Eton.”
“You’re a bloody menace, Haslemere. You do know that?”
“I’m aware, yes. It’s good fun, being a menace.”
Gideon’s lips twitched. “Your talents are wasted in Kent. London must miss their most dashing rake by now. I thought I’d take Cecilia there, after we’re married.” He was looking forward to exploring the city with her. He used to love London, before he became the Murderous Marquess. Perhaps if he saw it through Cecilia’s eyes, he could learn to love it again. “She’s never been.”
Haslemere shot him an uneasy look. “Yes, er…about that, Darlington.”
Gideon frowned. “What is it?”
“Well, the thing is…damn it, this is deuced awkward, Darlington, but Cecilia is…that is, she isn’t quite who you imagined she—”
“Lord Darlington!”
Gideon was staring at Haslemere, but now he snapped his head around, his brow furrowing. That had sounded like Duncan’s voice, but he’d given explicit orders for Duncan to remain at Darlington Castle today—
“Lord Darlington,” the voice called again. “My lord, wait!”
Gideon caught a glimpse of red hair, and alarm rose in his chest. It was Duncan, in the last place he should be, galloping toward them from the direction of the castle, waving his