"I am well, for now," Eloise said, lowering Damien's hand. "If you were not present, I would not have been able to get all my emotions out, so thank you. I apologise about your hand."
Eloise examined Damien's hand, which was wet from her tears. She would offer his handkerchief, but it was already damp.
Eloise shifted her gaze to her lap, where she fidgeted with her fingers. "You killed Percival so easily. Why didn't you just kill me to keep your secret? To go through with marriage with a lady you won't gain anything from is a little odd."
Eloise's father wasn't a wealthy man, though Clive seemed to think so.
"My father was the groundsman for your family in the past, and worked very odd jobs to afford our home. He was nowhere as wealthy as you are. So, what are you looking to gain?" Eloise asked, certain there was something Damien sought.
