“You said we’ve spent two years loving each other.”
She blinked rapidly. “Yes.”
“Then we are equally at fault. Though if I had known you held me in such high regard, I imagine we would be married now.”
All the tension in the air dissipated.
She stared at him before dabbing a tear from her eye. “I have loved you for so long it makes me sad to think of the time we’ve wasted.”
He did not ask how long.
Knowing would only create a profound remorse.
“Time has served to strengthen our feelings. We mustn’t see it as a waste, Helen.”
She sighed as if she’d been holding her breath for years. “You’re right. It feels like I’ve loved you forever.”
“So, you were not overwhelmed by my prowess in bed?” he teased her, for he had sworn never to wallow in regret. “You have not mistaken lust for love?”
“I didn’t know what lust was until you kissed me in Lady Brompton’s garden. But I have loved you since you picked me an apple in the orchard and polished it on your best coat.”
Their gazes locked.
His heart thumped hard in his chest.
“If I kiss you now, I won’t stop there. We’ll be arrested for indecency. But once we’ve dealt with our business here, we shall return to the Dog and Gun and stay the night.”
She grinned. “And risk being accosted in the corridor?”
“I doubt the devil will harass us again, not now he thinks I’m capable of slitting a man’s throat.”
The flippant comment reminded him he was an outlaw, a fugitive, and this dream might be whipped from under his feet at any moment.
A loud rap on the door made them jump in their seats. A studious-looking man in his thirties motioned for them to lower the window.
Nicholas obliged. “You don’t look like the gatekeeper.”
“Gibson retired a year ago. I’m Mr Jefferies. I rent the gatehouse from Mr Holland, though if you’re hoping to catch him, you may be disappointed. The gentleman is presently enjoying a lengthy stay in London.”
So, the staff at Oakmere hadn’t heard of the tragedy.
“I’m sorry to say, Mr Holland will not be returning. He was found dead some days ago. I presumed his aunt, Mrs Waltham, would have journeyed here to break the sad news.”
Assuming the magistrate let the guests leave, of course.
Jefferies paled. He clasped his hand to his chest and shook his head in disbelief. “Dead? But he was a reasonably young man and rarely partook in dangerous pursuits.”
“There is an ongoing investigation.” Helen offered a sympathetic smile before lying to the man. “We’ve come to ask the servants a few questions and had rather hoped Mrs Waltham might be here.”
“No, she rarely visits.” Still shocked, Jefferies gestured to the long drive leading to Oakmere Hall. “Don’t trouble your coachman. I shall open the gates. Please tell Mrs Packard to send for me if I can be of any assistance.”
The man disappeared through a door in the brick wall and opened the gates from the inside. Then he waved for them to pass through.
As the carriage rolled to a stop outside Oakmere’s impressive entrance, they noticed many signs of neglect. A flight of crumbling stone steps led to an arched oak door. Weeds littered the gravel path. Dead flowers filled the Grecian urns.
Nicholas handed Helen down from the carriage.
“Perhaps don’t mention you’re the heir unless Mrs Packard declines to answer our questions.” Helen glanced at the facade as if someone was watching them. “I shall play the enquiry agent and see what we can discover.”