Violet smiled to herself. She’d been looking after her sisters for so long she could not imagine doing anything other than lying with Ivy during thunderstorms. She supposed she had adjusted to Clementine being married fairly well though it did not look like her sisters were going to do anything other than follow her into spinsterhood.
Thunder so loud it seemed to shake the house rolled overhead and Ivy pulled on the blankets, allowing a sliver of freezing air into their warm cocoon.
“Ivy,” Violet muttered, gripping the sheets about her.
“Can you not pull the curtains closer?” Ivy complained. “They are still letting the light in.”
With a roll of her eyes, Violet slipped out of bed and put her feet to the floorboards and issued a hiss of breath between her teeth. “My goodness, it’s so cold. We should be getting snow soon.”
“I’d rather have snow than storms.”
She glanced at the hunched pile that was her sister, just able to make out the outline of her body huddled inherbed. Jaw tight to prevent her teeth chattering, she dashed to the window and gripped the curtain. Lightning split the sky, lighting up the surrounding parkland briefly. Violet paused and peered at the lawns below her window.
“Has the footman done his rounds yet?”
“Not sure,” Ivy mumbled. “Hurry up and come back to bed. It’s freezing.”
Violet narrowed her gaze to peer into the stillness around the house. Another crack of lightening speared across the sky—further away this time—but it lit the area where she swore she’d spied movement.
Violet waited several moments, throat tight. It could have been an animal or even a figment of her imagination. She laid her palms flat against the windowsill and leaned closer to the glass, breath held. As thunder rumbled, she spied it again—the briefest flurry of a shadow. Too large to be a rabbit or even a fox. Too man-shaped for her liking.
She drew in a shuddery breath, glanced at her sister, then snatched her nightrail from the hook on the door. She stuffed her arms into the sleeves and cinched it tight.
“Vi?” Ivy mumbled.
“Stay here,” she whispered. “I just need to, uh, get a drink.”
The blankets rustled and a muffled order to make haste emerged. Violet issued a long breath, eased open the door, slipped out, and drew it shut carefully. The movement and shadows could have been anything, of course. Perhaps even a deer frightened by the storm into coming too close to the house. Maybe she’d imagined the flash of human features. The tangle in her gut told her otherwise. She scurried down the corridor and stopped by Duke’s door. She lifted her hand to knock and paused when a streak of lightning tore across the darkness.
She saw it for certain this time. A man on the grounds.
“Duke,” She knocked heavily on the door as she leaned to peer out of the window and see if she could spot the intruder again. “Duke!” she called more loudly.
Blast. How heavily did the man sleep? She twisted the doorknob and stepped into the darkened room. The next flash of the skies revealed an empty, still made bed.
And no Duke.
∞∞∞
“My wife may well kill me for this.”
Duke eyed Roman’s tense jaw, highlighted by a flash of lightning. The thunderstorm smothered the sounds of their slow movements through the docks.
He swiped raindrops from his face. “Violet might get there first.”
“No, she’ll kill you first for forcing me to do this.”
Duke eyed Roman. “Forcing? Did you not demand to come along?”
“Well, I could hardly allow you to come alone now could I? What if you ended up beaten and left in the streets again?”
“That’s not going to happen this time.” Duke patted his pocket, the weight of a pistol weighing his coat down quite nicely. “I’m prepared.”
“Prepared to be killed,” Roman scoffed. “These men clearly have no concern over harming people. We are going to wind up dead you know, and Clem will never forgive me for it.”
“Yes, but you’ll be dead so why do you care?”
“Reassuring, thank you.” Roman peered through the window of the darkened warehouse. “Are you certain this is the place?”