“I’m certain you would have managed without me,” Hawk said before turning away.
Skye quelled a sigh as she watched him walk down the corridor. It was frustrating, not knowing how she could persuade him to reconsider, but for now she would let herself relish the moment when her beloved uncle found the love of his life once more.
* * *
It was an hour later before Rachel sought her out. Her eyes were swollen from crying, and yet she looked happy.
“Cornelius loves me still,” she effused once Skye had ushered her into the nearest empty room so they could be alone. “I cannot believe it.”
“You agreed that a love as strong as yours would not easily die.”
“I know, but even so … I want to pinch myself. Is this truly happening?”
“Yes, dearest Rachel.”
“Cornelius actually wishes to marry me.”
Skye felt surprise and delight at the same time. “He proposed?”
“Not in so many words. And I was glad he did not press me.” Rachel’s expression sobered, her smile fading. “I could never accept his offer until I tell him about his daughter, and I cannot bring myself to tell him yet. He will hate me when he learns I concealed such an enormous secret from him.”
“I am certain he won’t hate you, Rachel, but perhaps that knowledge would be too much, coming so swiftly after he learned you had risen from the dead. What did you say to his implication about marriage?”
“That I couldn’t decide just now. That I needed time to consider.” She gave a faint sob that was half laughter. “Cornelius is resolved to court me as he never could before. He says he will have to rely on you and Lady Isabella to advise him, since at his age, he knows nothing about romance.”
“I think he is doing quite well on his own,” Skye said, amused at the thought of her elderly, staid, bachelor uncle seeking her advice.
Rachel’s face suddenly clouded. “There is still a great need for secrecy. We have no idea how Edgar Farnwell would react if he learned of my resurrection.”
“True.”
“Cornelius and I mean to follow Lord Hawkhurst’s suggestion. We will pretend that we have just met and that we are falling in love for the first time.”
“I think that is a perfect plan. You can take your romance one day at a time.”
Rachel took Skye’s hands. “However can I thank you?”
“By making my uncle happy,” she answered earnestly. “I promise you, that will be more than enough thanks.”
The castle had yet another visitor that afternoon: the Bow Street Runner charged with investigating the late Baron Farnwell and his son and heir, Edgar. Hawk was closeted with Horace Linch for the better part of an hour, but by the time Skye learned the caller’s identity, he had already departed.
Wanting to know what Linch had said, she went in search of Hawk and was told the earl had gone to the stables. When she reached the stable block, though, she found he had ridden out on his new stallion.
Since the noise from the renovations was louder than ever, Skye was glad to escape on her own mount. She found Hawk in the same meadow as before, putting the stallion through its paces. She spent a moment admiring the beauty of the purebred animal, whose black coat glowed richly in the sunlight, and its magnificent rider, who effortlessly controlled the creature’s savage power.
Spying her, Hawk came to a halt and gave her time to ride up to him. He didn’t look particularly pleased to see her, but neither did he order her to leave.
When he raised an eyebrow expectantly, Skye explained why she had come. “Did Linch discover anything of significance from his investigation?”
“A few items of note. You may read his written report, but to summarize, William Farnwell was severely disliked by the servants and tenants in his district,
and Edgar Farnwell is not much better. It seems Edgar inherited his father’s temper.”
Frowning, Skye bit her lower lip. “That does not bode well for Rachel. If Edgar is half the brute his father was, there may be no reasoning with him. She may always have to remain in hiding, or at least maintain a disguise.”
“Perhaps, but it is too early to make that judgment yet.”
“I suspect my uncle would be willing to share her exile. He is already hinting at marriage. But I would much prefer that he be free to live in England.”