Dark Obsession Read Online Free

QUESTIONING. . . . Last summer’s scandal sheets had brimmed with the sensational details. But no conclusions.
    ‘‘He wouldn’t be the first nobleman to get away with murder.’’
    Her father grasped her chin and turned her face to his. His dark eyes penetrated the shadows, searing in their intensity. ‘‘I’ve met Grayson Lowell and I can vouch for him. He is not a murderer. It isn’t in him. I would know if it were. A murderer’s black heart reflects in his eyes, but Lowell’s eyes are clear.’’
    Her forearms prickled; the hairs on her nape rose. It was said Grayson Lowell never denied the crime, that he’d had little to say during the investigation. It was said the magistrate exonerated him because there simply hadn’t been enough evidence to place Sir Grayson at the scene of the death.
    Part of her wished to demand how her father knew exactly what to look for in a man’s eyes to judge his innocence or the lack of it. But to ask would be to pry into things about Papa’s past she didn’t wish to know. Perhaps couldn’t bear knowing.
    ‘‘Goodness, Nora, all this fuss.’’ Fingering the sapphire and diamond necklace around her neck, her mother tsked. ‘‘After all that’s happened, you should be grateful a nobleman will have you. A baronet, knighted for his services to the poor. So he’s got a bit of a past. What nobleman doesn’t have a skeleton or two rattling about in his closet?’’
    True enough, he’d earned his knighthood for helping establish schools for Cornwall’s poor. All well and good, but her mother’s blithe dismissal of the rest made her eyes go wide with disbelief. ‘‘How many of those skeletons happen to be the nobleman’s brother?’’
    ‘‘Oh, drivel-dravel. Your father has arranged a brilliant match, all things considered. Stop complaining and do as we ask.’’
    It wasn’t her mother’s peevish command that convinced her to release the door handle and rap once on the ceiling. It was her father’s quiet entreaty.
    "Trust me, Nora.’’
    At those simple words, the storm inside her quieted. Papa had once been a criminal—that much she knew—and God alone knew what secrets he carried within him. But to her he had never been anything but kind, loving and completely straightforward.
    If Zachariah Thorngoode said Grayson Lowell was not a murderer, then by God, she could wager her finest sable paintbrush that the Earl of Clarington died by far less sinister means.
    She hoped.
    ‘‘All right, Papa.’’ She drew a breath. ‘‘You win. I’ll marry him.’’
    ‘‘There’s my bonnie good girl.’’
    Yes, but then she wasn’t Zachariah Thorngoode’s daughter for nothing. She’d marry Grayson Lowell, but she would do so on her own terms, as the man would very shortly discover.

Chapter 2
    Grayson was about to knock again when the paneled oak door creaked open a few circumspect inches. The butler’s stern face appeared in the gap. ‘‘Ah, Sir Grayson. Good evening.’’ He swung the door wide. ‘‘Do come in, sir.’’
    Grayson smiled as he stepped into the foyer. ‘‘Good evening, Harris. Why so vigilant?’’
    ‘‘One can never be too careful, sir.’’ The elderly man gave a disdainful sniff as he went on to explain, ‘‘There have been vagrants about of late. His lordship has issued the strictest instructions not to admit anyone who appears the least bit suspicious.’’
    ‘‘I’m sure the earl is quite safe with you at hand.’’
    ‘‘Indeed, sir.’’
    The mingled aromas of roasting meats, tangy sauces and sweet desserts wafted from below stairs, stirring an appetite Grayson had not thought he would experience tonight. He swung his cloak into Harris’s waiting arms, then added his top hat and gloves to the bundle. ‘‘Is his lordship in the drawing room?’’
    ‘‘His lordship is right here.’’ Chadwell Rutherford, Earl of Wycliffe, stopped halfway down the staircase, one manicured hand resting on the banister, the other