CHAPTER 31

Later that day, Vivienne found herself in a small, seldom-used storage room on the manor's second floor. Dust motes danced in the late-afternoon sun slanting through a narrow window. Two large trunks had been stacked here by the footmen after Bernard's demise. Their contents awaited examination.

A kindly maid had led Vivienne to the room, then left her at Vivienne's request for privacy. As a half-measure of trust, Lucien had permitted her to see Bernard's belongings alone—though she suspected a guard lurked down the corridor in case she tried to vanish.

The trunks were battered, one missing a handle. Vivienne steeled herself and knelt by the first, rummaging through clothes, some personal trinkets…nothing particularly noteworthy. Then she pried open the second trunk. Inside lay a scattering of letters, a cheap pistol, a few gambling IOUs. Her breath caught at the sight of a small locked wooden box. She tested the lid—sealed.

She retrieved her penknife and carefully worked the simple lock. With a click, it opened, revealing a stash of documents. At a glance, many seemed to detail staff schedules, notes about Lucien's daily habits, a partial record of deliveries to various estates. Vivienne's chest tightened—Bernard had systematically tracked Lucien's routine for months, possibly feeding it to outsiders.

Then, near the bottom, a single folded letter caught her eye. The wax seal was partially broken but still bore a faint crest—a crest that made Vivienne's blood run cold: a hawk in flight.

Lucien's family crest. But it didn't look exactly like the one she knew—it was slightly different, as though an older branch's variant. Hands trembling, Vivienne opened the letter and skimmed the contents:

_Bernard:

Continue to keep watch on the Duke. Await further instructions. If "M" (the woman) shows any sign of cooperating, or if you suspect she's more valuable than we thought, notify me at once. Our aims remain the same: ensure the blame for these deals stays on Belfoire. If he discovers the truth, we lose our leverage.

Signed—\tN.H._

Vivienne reread the lines, her heart pounding. N.H. Another hawk crest—someone of Lucien's extended family? A cousin, perhaps, orchestrating a frame? This letter implied they manipulated both Lucien and her from behind the scenes, counting on her infiltration to sabotage him further or to extort him.

She pressed a hand to her mouth, stifling a gasp. So Bernard's blackmail of her had been partly personal, partly directed from this mysterious N.H. The puzzle pieces were aligning. This was likely the true puppet master behind the entire fiasco, pitting Lucien's name in the trafficking ring and using Vivienne's infiltration for deeper infiltration.

Vivienne folded the letter and tucked it into her bodice. She'd show it to Julian and Lucien. This was the tangible link they needed.

Rising, she set the trunk's contents back as they were, mindful not to disturb any potential further clues. She brushed dust from her skirts, mind buzzing with new questions. Who is N.H.? Another Hawke? Or someone forging the crest?

The corridor remained empty as she exited. She took the letter straight to her room, locking the door behind her. Sitting at her small writing desk, she copied the letter's exact wording onto a blank page, just in case. Then she carefully slid the original into a hidden compartment under a false bottom in her jewelry box. This was too critical to risk losing.

A knock on her door startled her. "Yes?" she called, quickly masking her calm.

"It's Mary, madame," the housekeeper's voice carried. "Lord Wakefield is downstairs. He requests to see you in the east drawing room."

Vivienne smoothed her hair in the mirror, steeling herself. "I'll be right there." Perfect timing—she needed to share the letter with Julian. And after that, they would figure out how to approach Lucien with the discovery.

As she left her room, fresh determination swelled within her. She would not let fear or guilt paralyze her. They had a lead on the real puppet master, and every shred of evidence might be the key to preserving their fragile alliance—and possibly forging a new future free of deceit.