A Fragile Chain of Daisies: Flowers of the Aristocracy (Untamed Regency Book 4)

Home > Romance > A Fragile Chain of Daisies: Flowers of the Aristocracy (Untamed Regency Book 4) > Page 28
A Fragile Chain of Daisies: Flowers of the Aristocracy (Untamed Regency Book 4) Page 28

by Jackie Williams


  She looked up.

  “The author of this note murdered Robert!” She gasped.

  The Dowager brought forth several other notes.

  “So it would appear, but not only has he murdered my son, he has been blackmailing me for weeks.”

  Daisy took the letters and began to leaf through them. She read through a couple and glanced at the others.

  “They are all in a similar vein. Threats and demands. But this adds up to thousands. You cannot possibly have been paying the money.”

  Jane Benedict sighed.

  “I had been paying up until the one prior to this, but I had no more money left and petitioned Robert. He was furious that I had given in to the demands, but what else was I to do...” She looked at each of the women in turn before speaking directly to Daisy. “I knew what you and Robert had arranged. This, this... informant gave me the details several weeks ago. Naturally I confronted my son. I didn’t explain where the information came from. I just mentioned that some gossip had come to my attention. He was surprised that anyone had guessed the deception and refused to say anything more about it, apart from confirming that the story my informant gave was true. I was shocked but, with no other alternatives, I made no objection. Until this same individual began blackmailing me.” She gave a small, choked cry.

  Daisy looked again at the pile of demands and gasped as she extracted one.

  “But this one threatens me personally.” She pointed and read some lines. ‘Your daughter in law is reckless when she rides. An accident might well befall her if you do not pay me on time.’ Daisy stared at her former mother in law. “Is this why you forbid me to ride?”

  Jane nodded.

  “I asked all the staff to keep an eye on you, to report back to me about you, but only because I was half scared to death. They all thought you were expecting a child anyway, so were quite keen to keep you from your horse. I know that I was a frightful harridan, but I didn’t know how else to keep you from harm. And after Robert’s death, I knew I was worse, but I thought you would be safer away from town. And for a while I thought you were. I hadn’t heard from this fiend for almost a month. But then this arrived in my post.” She shuddered as she looked at the note.

  Elizabeth broke in.

  “But what could this person be blackmailing you about? What was the secret?”

  Daisy closed her eyes briefly and then looked at her mother in law, who nodded.

  “Tell them. It can do no more harm.”

  Daisy took a breath.

  “I was never with child. I never lost any baby because I was never expecting one in the first place.” She held up her hand as her mother opened her mouth. “No, mother, I was not mistaken. Let us just say that Robert and I were... well, we were incompatible. There was never going to be an heir. Until Robert heard of a lady in distress. She had been vilely seduced and the scandal would have ruined her and her family. To keep the story short I will simply tell you that she, Robert, and I came to an arrangement whereby I would pretend to be with child. When this lady’s babe was born, I would become it’s mother. She would return unblemished to society, while Robert would hopefully have his Portland heir. We discussed the matter of the child being a girl, but Robert didn’t care. He said that if it were not a boy this time there would be other opportunities to do something similar again. All we would have to do was wait.”

  Jane broke in.

  “Robert made it all sound so easy. I expressed my concerns, but he waved the matter away. He was a Duke after all and said that he would simply deny the rumour if anyone mentioned an illegitimate child. No one would question his word.” She gathered her breath while Daisy poured her a glass of water.

  “So what happened. Obviously that wasn’t the end of the story.”

  Jane shook her head while she dabbed her lips.

  “No, it was not. I wasn’t sure of the informer’s purpose in telling me of the deception until the first monetary demand arrived. He knew names, and all the pertinent details, and asked for five hundred pounds to keep his counsel. So many lives would be ruined if the truth came out that I kept my mouth shut, paid up, and thought that would be an end of it. It seemed a small price to pay for confidentiality. How wrong I was. The demands came weekly. I ran out of funds and could find no more. Yes, I have jewellery, but it is not so easy to sell as you would believe, especially when in my position. I even thought of selling my equipage, but it was hopeless. How could horses such as my greys have been disposed of discreetly? Their sale would have raised another set of questions, rumours, and scandal.”

  Elizabeth pressed her hand to her chest.

  “So what did you do?”

  Jane spread her hands.

  “What could I do? I sent a note rather than money in the carriage the next time. I thought that he would stop his threats once he knew that my pockets were empty.” She huffed impatiently. “Did he ever! No, the felon threatened to release specific details of the deception. They would not be able to be denied. I had to find the money,” she said bitterly.

  Daisy tilted her head.

  “And that was when you asked Robert to help you?”

  The Dowager dabbed her eyes.

  “He was incensed. Almost apoplectic with rage. I never saw him so angry in my life before that day. He called me a fool and an idiot for making any payments at all. Told me that I should have ignored the whole thing and bluffed it out. No one could prove anything. But it was too late by then. By bowing to this monster’s demands, I had already admitted the truth of the deception. My well meaning, if foolish actions, had sealed our fate. We would have to continue to pay until we could discover who it was and deal with him in a different way. Except that Robert couldn’t. Like me, he had no immediate spare funds. Well, not enough to cover the blackmailer’s constant demands.” She qualified her remark. “And then he remembered Lord Devonshire’s race. It was to take place just a few days later. My son thought that with his superior mount and luck on his side, he would be good enough to win the ten thousand guineas. It seemed the perfect lifeline. With that kind of money, he thought he could rid us of this threat once and for all.”

  Dorothea shook her head

  “But instead his tack was sabotaged, he fell, and subsequently died.”

  The Dowager nodded tearfully.

  “I thought that would be the end of the nightmare. With Robert’s death it was well known that my income would be severely reduced. I didn’t hear anything from the blackmailer for several weeks and presumed we were safe. I even had some hope. If Daisy were still amicable, there was no reason to change the arrangements about the coming child and all would be well. There would be a new heir. But I thought it best if there was no trace. No suggestion of illegitimacy that could be called into question at a later date. So a few weeks after the funeral, I came to Portland Hall to destroy any correspondence with the baby’s mother. I knew there had been some. Robert had mentioned it when he confessed what he had done.”

  Daisy rose from the floor.

  “But you searched every room and couldn’t find anything.” She recalled Pierce recounting her mother in law’s frantic hunt.

  Jane nodded again.

  “I had already searched the London address. There was nothing there and so concluded that the letters were at Portland, but I went through every room, every place in the house. Those letters could have ruined us. I had to find them. If they ever fell into the blackmailers hands we would be finished. Robert told me that the letters were safe, but I couldn’t find even an envelope out of place.”

  Daisy gave a small laugh.

  “That’s because they were all in the most obvious place of all. In Robert’s desk drawer.”

  Jane rolled her eyes.

  “The fool! Anyone might have discovered them after his death.”

  Daisy raised an eyebrow.

  “But you have to remember that Robert wasn’t expecting to die. He had taken the letters to Portland Hall because he felt they were less likely to
be discovered there. He had no notion of what was about to befall him. When he left London on the morning of the race, he fully expected to return that night.”

  The Dowager sniffed.

  “As you say. And then none of it mattered anyway. After discovering you and Mr. Everard in the cottage, you told us that you had lost the baby. I guessed that the true mother must have miscarried her child. I knew then that there was no hope for us to have an heir and I have since been making arrangements to give up the townhouse and retire to the country, but then I learned that Pierce Trenchard had been arrested and sent for trial. Obviously I wanted to see my son’s murderer brought to justice and went to the court. As soon as I saw the man in the dock, I recognized your hopeless footman.” She rolled her eyes. “If there was ever a man less likely to murder anyone...” She turned from Daisy and gave her friend a look. “You deceived me, Elizabeth. You knew Peter Everard was Lord Pierce Trenchard all the time.”

  Elizabeth lifted her chin.

  “But I also know that Pierce is a wonderful, kind, and honourable man. All his life he has protected my daughter. He would never hurt a fly.”

  Jane nodded in agreement.

  “The man couldn’t slice a wedge of cake, let alone a leather strap. And I confess that the trial worried me. The evidence was so circumstantial and none of it makes any sense.” She turned to Dorothea Trenchard. “Your son was apparently so stupid as to sabotage only one rider. The other man in a love triangle? Pierce might as well have put his own head in the noose. And even if there was no love triangle, would your son have cut only Robert’s tack in the assumption that he would be his sole rival for the prize? It is a ridiculous notion, especially not in the Duke of Devonshire’s race. The outcome cannot be assured. Why, I have even heard that a woman once entered in disguise and won the coveted purse.”

  Daisy nodded.

  “Pierce and I thought the same. The race is notoriously risky. No one can predict the probable winner over a race so long and arduous.”

  Jane carried on.

  “I heard the judge’s verdict but left the trial feeling less than elated. Something was wrong. And then only last night I received this note.” She took up the final missive again. “I assume that the authorities check on any mail leaving their jails, and cannot imagine them allowing a note such as this to be sent by a prisoner. And even if Lord Trenchard had managed it, what would be the point? Daisy might be the condemned man’s wife, but I doubt he would have left her penniless, and it is hardly as if the man himself would have time to spend his ill gotten gains.” She stopped as Dorothea burst into more noisy tears.

  Elizabeth rummaged in the drawer for another handkerchief.

  “Really Jane, can you not show some sensitivity,” she muttered over her shoulder.

  Jane spread her hands.

  “I am only stating the facts. I don’t mean to sound cruel, but don’t you see, my dears. This note was sent while Pierce has been incarcerated. It surely cannot have come from him, and there was never any mention of him working with someone else. The judge even went as far as to try and save Daisy’s reputation, regardless of any gossip, by saying that Pierce worked alone. He said that it was a crime of passion only committed to secure Pierce’s position as Daisy’s husband. And this is the part tht I could not understand. Why do it in such a way that death couldn’t be guaranteed? The girth, though cut, might not have broken at all, and while falling from one’s horse isn’t comfortable, it also isn’t a reliable cause of death. It wasn’t in my Robert’s case. If you remember, he only broke his leg. It was the infection that killed him.”

  Daisy nodded.

  “Even the doctor thought he would make a good recovery, until the gangrene set in.”

  Jane shuddered.

  “It was an awful death, but murder? Perhaps not. In fact, after some consideration, I have come to an altogether different conclusion.”

  “You have? What?” Dorothea dried her eyes.

  Jane took a deep breath.

  “As strange as it may sound, I don’t believe this was about murder at all. I think it was one of the blackmailer’s threats designed to scare me into keeping up the payments. But his plan went badly wrong and Robert died. The suggestion of a love triangle and a murder plot were put forward to hide the true crime.”

  Dorothea started forward.

  “Suggestion? Plot? You mean gossip and lies?” She narrowed her eyes. “And whom do we already know that does that? The very same person that mentioned your letters and my son to the police in the first place!” She concluded triumphantly.

  Elizabeth and Daisy stared back at her.

  “It could be...” Elizabeth hesitated.

  “Surely it cannot be...” Daisy drew in a breath. “But he knew about the letters I sent. He was very close to Robert. Something of a confidant. There is the possibility that he might have known about the baby and our arrangements... And he could have had the opportunity to cut...” She stopped and glanced between her mother and Dorothea. “And there was almost a month where no demands were sent. I was at Portland Hall for almost a month. He helped in clearing out Robert’s belongings. You don’t think...”

  Dorothea threw back her bedcovers.

  “I bloody well do! And he thinks I am going to lie here let my son die in his stead? Over my dead body!” She leapt from her bed.

  Jane rose from her chair, clutching her bag in front of her.

  “Who? Tell me! I cannot stand the suspense. Who do you mean, my dears?”

  Dorothea shrugged her wrap from her shoulders and let it drop to the floor as rushed to the wardrobe, and drew out a dress.

  “MUSGRAVE!” She bellowed furiously as she drew her nightgown over her head. “That lying scoundrel!” She rang the bell by the bed, but clearly couldn’t wait for her maid to arrive. Turning her back, she stepped into the dress. “I have to save my son! Will someone please do me up!”

  Chapter Twenty One

  Hanging by a Thread

  Pierce sat on the narrow bunk and stared at the apple pie Daisy had brought him. Though his empty stomach rumbled, food was the last thing upon his mind. He swallowed the lump that seemed to have become fixed in his neck. A neck that was going to be stretched uncomfortably and permanently within the next few hours. Sweat broke on his brow.

  How had it come to this?

  The good Lord only knew. He let out a grim laugh that echoed back at him from the cold cell walls. He had gone way past bemoaning his fate. What was the point in dwelling on something over which he had no control. Yes, he was aggrieved, any innocent man would be, but that wouldn’t change the verdict.

  Guilty.

  The word still rung in his ears. But he had been expecting no less. Especially after the judge read out Daisy’s letter. She hadn’t cared that her own, already flawed reputation would never recover regardless of if it saved him. She had literally thrown herself on the mercy of the court. Who had promptly thrown her to the wolves. And they had salivated, eaten her up, and spat out the bones.

  But not before delivering their judgement. Pierce was to hang by the neck until dead.

  He gulped. The lump was still there. Good grief! He was going to die. Unless his solicitor could mount some last minute protest. And that didn’t seem likely. Why, the man had only visited him once since the verdict, and that was to present his bill.

  Pierce shook his head to himself. It seemed so impossible. Who would have guessed that gossip could hang a man. He would have sworn until he crossed paths with God Himself that it couldn’t happen in a British court of law, but here he sat, in a cell almost too small to turn around in, living proof that wagging tongues were believed more than the truth.

  His stomach let out another rumble as wafts of apple scented pastry blotted out the more unpleasant smells within his cell. The golden crusted pie did look and smell delicious. And Daisy had taken a great risk in bringing it to him. Not that he had seemed grateful, and not that they had more than a few seconds of privacy together bef
ore the guard realized her deception and threw her out. Her last words to him were to say that they weren’t giving up. Lucas had engaged the most eminent lawyer, more eminent than the lawyer who had not prevented the guilty decree.

  Pierce still wondered who might have a grudge against him. But he couldn’t think of a soul. He didn’t owe anyone money. Hadn’t insulted anyone - well, not recently - and he hadn’t been laying any bets that might have resulted in someone’s downfall. He had only just given his staff a generous wage rise and had lowered his tenants rent. There was no one who could have anything against him.

  He gave up thinking about it and took out his watch. Strange how the hours passed so quickly when you knew your time was finite. Only another twenty four to live. Still plenty of time to be saved from his fate. Perhaps he should keep his strength up while he could.

  He picked up the spoon from the dish and a groan of pleasure left his lips as the pastry crumbled under the slightest pressure. The soft, sweet apples glistened in what little light filtered into his cell. He lifted the spoon to his mouth and tasted the succulent delight. But it was a disappointment. As he had known it would be. Everything tasted like chaff in comparison to the lusciousness of his wife. Her sweet mouth was like nectar, her skin like the dusting of sugar on a cake. He refused to let his mind wander further. Thinking of her at all was an exquisite torture.

  He put the spoon down again and pushed the plate away. But if these were going to be his last twenty four hours on earth, he wanted to remember the best times of it. And they had all happened in the tiny attic room at the inn. With Daisy. The love of his life.

  He lay back and closed his eyes. How he loved her. He would never forget the moment she had given herself to him. The surprise, the satisfaction, the utter joy of it. He could still hardly believe it. She had been an innocent. But she was innocent no more. He had made sure of that as they made love throughout the night.

 

‹ Prev