attire.
Then Richard demanded, “Where’s my belt?”
He would be just fine.
It wasn’t long before the detectives from Special Branch arrived to ask Richard and me some questions.
“Had you received any credible threats leading up to the wedding?”
I gestured to Richard’s jacket, which was lying across a chair on the other side of the room. I knew the damning mobile with the photos was in the inside pocket. I started to speak, but Richard squeezed my hand.
“No, Detective,” he said with a stern look in my direction.
I gave him a confused look but remained dutifully silent.
“Any idea who could have done this?”
I looked at Richard, waiting for his response.
“None at all.”
What the hell?
What was going on here?
Richard knew damn well it must have been that woman who shot him.
Why was he protecting her?
I stood there fuming as the detectives finished their questioning and left.
The moment the door closed, I turned to Richard with only one question on my lips. “Why?”
He responded sternly. “Elizabeth, I will handle this my way. You are not to interfere, do you understand me?”
Reluctantly, I nodded yes.
There was a discreet knock on the door before Harris entered. Richard reached for my hand and gave it a squeeze. “I could really use a nice cuppa. Would you go find me one?”
Now dressed in a more respectable pair of buff slacks with a cream cashmere sweater, I left the room to do his bidding.
Balancing a small tray with a cup of tea and some biscuits in one hand, I didn’t knock as I entered his room. Thus, I was able to catch the final bits of his and Harris’ conversation before they noticed my presence.
“Is phase two all set?” asked Richard.
“They’d have to be blind and stupid to not pick up on the damning trail of evidence I left,” responded Harris.
“And the mobile?”
Harris didn’t answer. They both looked up to see me.
Richard gave me a slow smile as he gestured for me to step closer. “My love.”
I couldn’t explain why, but the endearment sent a chill of unease up my spine.
“Will you walk into my parlour?” said a spider to a fly.
Up jump’d the cruel spider, and firmly held her fast!
He dragg’d her up his winding stair, into his dismal den,
Within his little parlour; but she ne’er came down again.
Chapter 23
Richard
She was finally all mine, under my complete control.
We were back at Chillingalt Hall, my estate in Wolverhampton Staffordshire.
There was absolutely no staying in the city with the hoard of international media baying and howling at the doors of my Mayfair home. They were in an absolute frenzy as everyone speculated whether I or Her Majesty the Queen was the intended target of the assassin and if someone had connected them to any extremist group.
Meanwhile, behind the scenes, I kept close tabs on the investigation, making sure the detectives found what they were supposed to find, when they were supposed to find it.
Step by step they were getting closer.
Soon the trap would snap shut.
Elizabeth stepped into the conservatory. To please me, she was wearing one of her Victorian gowns. It had a beautiful Dolman jacket of emerald green velvet trimmed with black cord.
Although we hadn’t discussed it, I knew she felt more at ease returning to our familiar pattern of life here on the estate. With no intrusive technology and very limited electricity, there was little to break our quiet isolation. We had filled the last few days with lazy afternoons spent picnicking on the grounds as Elizabeth read aloud to me from Bram Stoker’s Dracula, followed by elegant evenings by the fire.
We had left the world and all its nastiness and chaos behind us.
Her willingness to return to this type of life only reinforced my resolve to move forward with my future plans for her… for us.
This morning, when I awoke without so much as a twinge of soreness or pain, I knew I had my full strength back.
Tonight, I would finally claim my wife.
Instead of leading her to the master bedroom as I had done the last few nights, I took her arm and escorted her further down the hall. Her steps faltered when she realized where I was leading her.
I watched her body stiffen as her small hand shook.
“You remember your old bedroom, don’t you, little one?”
We hadn’t been in this room since the morning she had tried to shoot me. It was barely a month ago but felt like a lifetime. Still, I knew the memories of the various punishments, the restraints, the feel of my