PART 2 — THE LETTER THAT BOUND HER TO A MONSTER

The letter arrived on a Thursday morning.

Mrs. Margaret Finch, the housekeeper at Ashbourne Hall, carried it upstairs with the rest of the post. She had served the family for eleven years and knew nearly every secret a household could conceal.

She had also noticed the change in Eleanor Hayes.

Whenever a particular envelope appeared, the young governess grew pale. Her hands remained steady, but her breathing became shallow, as though she were preparing for a blow.

That morning was no different.

Eleanor opened the letter in her sitting room, the same room where the Duke had accidentally discovered her bruises weeks earlier.

The handwriting was elegant.

The words were not.

My dearest Eleanor,

I trust your position at Ashbourne Hall continues to suit you. Nevertheless, I find your continued residence beneath the roof of an unmarried duke increasingly inappropriate for a woman who has already promised herself to another.

I have therefore arranged for you to resign your position and return to Leeds, where our marriage may proceed without further delay.

Your sister, Clara, remains under the generous care of the Whitmore family. I would hate to see her circumstances change because of your unfortunate tendency to make unreasonable decisions.

You know how much I have sacrificed for your family. I trust you will not force me to reconsider the arrangements that have kept your sister safe and provided her with a future.

Yours devotedly,

Sebastian Sinclair.

Eleanor read the letter twice.

Then she folded it carefully, as though the paper itself might cut her fingers.

Her sister, Clara, was the last person in the world she could not bear to lose. Since their father’s death, Eleanor had struggled to keep them both from poverty. Sebastian had offered assistance when they had nowhere else to turn.

At first, he had seemed generous.

Then he had become possessive.

Then controlling.

And finally, he had made it clear that every kindness he had ever shown came with a price.

Eleanor had once believed that marrying him would repay her family’s debts and secure Clara’s future.

Now she understood that the marriage would not end her imprisonment.

It would make it permanent.

When little Margaret came rushing into the room, demanding another reading of her favorite story, Eleanor slipped the letter into her sleeve and forced a smile.

“Of course, my dear. Shall we begin with the fox and the crow?”

Margaret settled beside her, completely unaware that the woman reading to her was fighting to keep her world from collapsing.

That evening, Mrs. Finch found Eleanor alone in the servants’ parlour, writing a reply by candlelight.

“You need not answer so quickly,” the housekeeper remarked gently. “A day or two will hardly ruin a correspondence.”

Eleanor’s pen stopped.

“He does not like to wait.”

“And must everyone arrange their lives around what Mr. Sinclair likes?”

For one brief moment, Eleanor looked ready to tell the truth.

Then she lowered her eyes.

“He has done so much for my family. It is only right that I show him gratitude.”

Mrs. Finch said nothing.

She had lived long enough to know that genuine gratitude did not make a person tremble whenever they picked up a pen.

The next evening, she quietly mentioned her concerns to Thomas Reed.

Thomas listened without interrupting.

By the following morning, he was on his way to Leeds with instructions from the Duke himself.

William had ordered him to investigate Sebastian Sinclair’s affairs without alerting the man. He was to speak only with people who had already left Sinclair’s employment or influence, and he was not to pressure anyone so harshly that fear drove them back into silence.

Thomas returned four days later, his coat covered in road dust.

He went directly to the Duke’s study and closed the door.

“Your Grace, the institution Sinclair founded enjoys an excellent reputation.”

William put down his pen.

“Too excellent?”

“Possibly. Two former employees refused to discuss him. One became visibly frightened simply hearing his name.”

Thomas paused, then continued.

“But there is something else.”

William waited.

“Two years ago, Sinclair was engaged to another young woman. The engagement ended suddenly, without explanation. Her family has since refused to discuss the matter.”

“Where is she now?”

“That is what I have been trying to discover. Her family claims she has gone abroad. Her former servants tell different stories. No one seems willing to say where she actually is.”

William rose from his chair.

“Do you believe Sinclair had something to do with her disappearance?”

“I cannot prove it, Your Grace. But I believe someone has gone to considerable trouble to ensure that the truth remains hidden.”

William turned toward the window.

He thought of Eleanor’s carefully rehearsed lie, the fear in her eyes, and the bruises she had tried so desperately to conceal.

Then he thought of Sebastian Sinclair, the beloved physician whose name was spoken with admiration in every drawing room in the county.

A dangerous man did not always need a pistol or a knife.

Sometimes he needed only a respectable name, a handful of influential friends, and a woman who had been taught that no one would believe her.

William turned back to Thomas.

“Find the woman who was engaged to him. I want to know what happened before Eleanor became his next intended bride.”

Thomas nodded.

But before he could leave, a footman entered with a sealed envelope addressed to the Duke.

There was no signature.

Only a short message written across a single sheet of paper.

Your Grace, I advise you to concern yourself with your own household. Miss Hayes is not the innocent woman you imagine her to be.

William read the sentence once.

Then again.

Someone knew he was investigating.

And whoever had sent the letter was determined to make him stop.

William slowly folded the paper.

He had spent years protecting his daughter from a world that could be cruel.

Now he was beginning to understand that the greatest danger might not be a stranger at the gate.

It might be the man everyone welcomed through the front door.