Hell In A Handbasket

by Anders, Annabelle

  She was almost certain that she had not.

  Perhaps her grace now wished for Sophia to have it. But Sophia did not want it. His mother ought to keep it.

  “Sophia, dear…” The duchess spoke tenderly. “…the ring was taken from Harold’s body, which was found washed up on one of the beaches near Priory Point.”

  Sophia frowned. But this was not possible.

  “His valet did not give you the ring when he packed Harold’s possessions?” The ring had not come from Harold’s body. She was certain of it. It could not have been. Harold’s body was off somewhere in a distant land, starting a new life.

  The duchess patted Sophia on the arm. “No, dear, he has been found and returned to us. I will plan a small burial service for him. He will be laid to rest with his father and brother.”

  Sophia scratched the side of her face. Who had been wearing Harold’s signet ring, if not Harold?

  And a suspicion arose within her.

  Dudley.

  Chapter 25

  As soon as Sophia could make her excuses to the duchess, she stepped into the foyer and took a deep breath. She needed to speak with Dev.

  They’d not been alone together since that day before the funeral at Prescott House.

  Feeling tired, out of sorts, and sickly, Sophia had avoided him by remaining in her chamber much of the time. This way she could keep herself from reaching out to touch him, from moving close to inhale his scent. When they were in the same room with one another, usually only during the evening meal, she found it difficult to keep her gaze from following his every move.

  But the duchess was always nearby, watching her carefully, urging her to eat, ready to take her for a brief stroll through the gardens for some fresh air.

  Sophia entered the study quietly, her heart fluttering when she caught sight of his dark head bent over the sheet of paper he studied. “Dev,” she said in a near whisper, closing the door behind her. “Where is the body?”

  “It’s not in any condition—” he began.

  “It’s not Harold,” Sophia said. She had a feeling about this. “I need to look at it. I think I know who it is.”

  Dev’s eyebrows rose at her statement.

  Her stiff crepe skirts rustled as she crossed the room toward him.

  Dev stood, belatedly observing his manners. “But how can you?” He must have thought she’d gone mad, for really, how could she have any idea as to the identity of a body that had washed up weeks after their departure.

  When Sophia reached the desk, she put both of her hands on the polished wood and leaned across it so that he would hear her words. She would whisper them, for she was coming to discover that the walls of the Prescott estates had ears. “It may be Dudley.”

  Dev indicated for her to sit before dropping once again into his own chair. “But he was never at Priory Point.”

  “He was! Well, I believe so anyhow. On the day of Harold’s accident, after Penny gave me some sort of sleeping draught. When I awoke, I didn’t see him again, and I’d come to believe that perhaps I’d dreamed it. I used to have these nightmares, you see… But I think that perhaps it was not a dream after all. I think Dudley came into my room, using the adjoining door from Harold’s chamber. I was surprised, and the drug was already affecting me, but Rhoda interrupted him. She entered the room, realized what he was about, and took him out to assist in the search. I did not see him after that, and nobody ever mentioned his arrival. But he’d been in Harold’s chamber, and I would not put it past him to steal a deceased man’s possessions.”

  “So, you think he might have stolen the ring and then met with an accident of his own?” Dev leaned back in his seat, considering what she told him. “Did Miss Mossant ever mention seeing him again after that?” He frowned.

  Sophia shook her head. “No, Rhoda and her mother left before the funeral. There was no reason to discuss it with her, and really, at that point I considered I’d imagined it or dreamed it.”

  “The ice carriage is being driven around to the back of the house. I will view the body first, and if there is anything about it that could possibly be identifiable, I will allow you to view it as well.” He looked grim. “The last I’d heard of young Mr. Scofield, he’d gone down to Brighton for a few weeks. Your recollection would explain why he’s not yet returned to London.”

  Sophia appreciated that Dev took her suspicion seriously.

  “What with the danger he presents, I feel it is as important to establish whether or not the body is his, as it is to verify that the body is not Harold’s. Only one way to do this.” He stood and offered her his arm. “As much as this goes against my better judgment, I think it best we address this unpleasant task this afternoon.”

  Tucking her hand into his elbow, Sophia tilted her chin up stubbornly. “Let’s get this over with then.”

  They’d removed the body from the carriage into a building that was half-buried behind the stables. It was tucked away, dug partially into the earth, and most likely normally used as a cellar of some sort. Dev suggested Sophia wait outside while he disappeared down the dark steps.

  Waiting patiently, Sophia noticed for the first time that the sunlight was no longer the bright white light of summer. It had that subtle golden tint to it that signified the onset of autumn. When had this occurred? Where had summertime gone?

  She breathed in deeply, preparing herself for death to enter their lives once again.

  When Dev reappeared, a scowl marred his features.

  Brushing dirt from his hands, he announced, “I’m somewhat confident that the body down there, whoever it may be, is most definitely not Harold.”

  “So, it is intact?”

  Dev did not answer her question directly. “It must have been in the salt water for a considerable length of time, preserving various fragments. However, his flesh was not immune to creatures of the sea, and it suffered further decomposition most likely after washing ashore.”

  “But were there any identifiable features?” Sophia persisted.

  Dev finally nodded reluctantly. “Tell me if you feel faint at any time, and I’ll get you out at once.” Taking her hand, he assisted her down the earthen steps.

  The interior smelled of decay but not death. Sophia had her handkerchief ready. A few candles cast enough light so that she could see the wooden casket, opened and situated on a long table.

  She approached it cautiously, as though something might jump out at her at any moment. This was the stuff nightmares were made of. She stifled her imagination and stepped closer so she could peer inside.

  Why, it was not much of a body, at all.

  It was really just a pile of bones, with some hair and a few pieces of ripped clothing on it. “The ring was not discovered on his person,” Dev said, “as you can likely see. But the iceman said it was in his pocket.”

  What remained of the deceased’s hair was darker than Harold’s. The thin tufts were indeed the color of Dudley’s and curled just slightly. The clothing seemed familiar as well, but it, too, was discolored and practically reduced to threads. And then she caught sight of the location where a mouth had once been.

  A large gap split the upper front teeth just as Dudley’s had.

  Harold’s teeth were almost geometrically perfect.

  Sophia cringed as she remembered her stepbrother’s menacing smile all too well. One did not forget such a significant feature of one’s tormentor. “He is Dudley, Dev. I’m ninety-nine percent certain.”

  Surprisingly, she was not nearly as bothered by this body as she had been by the others. It exuded no odor at all.

  No putrefied flesh was left to emit any.

  “Who discovered him? I would not think it likely that many people would be so honest as to return such a valuable ring.” She was a little in awe that it had survived when most of the body had not.

  “One of the older servants at Priory Point, I believe. He will be rewarded justly, be assured,” Dev said. “Are you finished?”

  Sop
hia nodded. “Oh, yes, yes. Let’s get out of here.” She could easily imagine all manner of spiders and crawly things having at what was left of her stepbrother’s body.

  As she climbed the stairs, Dev’s hand on her back comforted her.

  If that was Dudley in the cellar, then Harold was still alive somewhere.

  And if Harold was still alive, then he could easily return at any time.

  “We have plenty of daylight before sunset,” Dev said once they were again above ground. “Would you care for a stroll?

  Oh, yes.

  Oh yes. It would be lovely to be alone with him for a while. To be free of the duchess’ overly concerned and watchful gaze.

  “I would.” She took hold of the arm he extended. “What will you tell the duchess?”

  They walked a short way before she realized they were on a path that would wind them around a more densely overgrown section of the garden. They would have some privacy.

  “The truth, I suppose. Your parents ought to be notified.”

  She walked quietly. She did not wish to reveal to her parents that Dudley had come to her room. That he’d likely stolen from her deceased husband. “What if Harold does not wish to return, Dev? Would it not be… comforting… for your aunt to believe he’s been found and brought home?”

  “Are you suggesting we leave matters as they are?” He did not dismiss her opinion outright.

  “I feel as though some explanation will be required, regarding Dudley. Explanations I’d rather not go into with anyone.” She also wanted to speak with Rhoda. What had happened that night? “If Harold returns, we can have the body exhumed. But if he does not…”

  “Will your parents not be concerned for your stepbrother’s whereabouts?” Her dear, sweet Dev had yet to object to her suggestion.

  “I think that so long as he is not up to mischief and spending their money, they are well enough to have him out of their lives.” She knew her mother would be happy without him, anyhow. Dudley had never been pleasant company. He had been something of a menace.

  “If you think that is what’s best, then I cannot argue with you. I’d planned upon curtailing his activities anyhow. This way, your parents will not be exposed to any scandal, and neither will you.”

  Sophia relaxed. Beneath her hand, Dev’s arm felt solid and warm. She leaned into him, and he kissed the top of her head. It was as though she had come home from a long and lonely journey.

  What an unusual day this had become.

  Locating a granite bench in the sunlight, Dev steered her toward it and pulled her to sit down. Turning, he searched her eyes meaningfully.

  “How are you feeling today? Are you faint? Do you still feel ill in the mornings?”

  These were the things she would share with him daily if their fates had not become so twisted. But here, now, she was alone with him for once.

  She nodded slowly and allowed a secret smile to curve her lips. She was finally convinced that she was indeed, increasing. But she had wanted to tell Dev first. She’d not wanted all the world to know before him. “I’m a little queasy every morning, but other than that, I have more energy today.”

  He stilled at her expression, as much as at her words. And in case he was left with any doubt on the matter, she shrugged a little sheepishly. “The world has turned upside down, and it would seem as though we’ve made one mistake after another. But in my heart, I cannot regret any of it.” Her words were truer than she could have thought. “I’m going to have your baby, Dev.” And she could not regret it now. Out of the uncontrollable passion they’d experienced together, they’d created a life. And appropriately, the child would be born in the springtime.

  Was it possible they could have just a few minutes together to celebrate, even though uncertainty abounded everywhere?

  Dev’s features softened, and then he jumped up restlessly. He paced back and forth several times before finally returning to sit down beside her. A new vitality seemed to come over him.

  “Do you think, Sophia,” he said, “that the two of us will ever carry on a normal conversation?” He smiled as he spoke the words, teasing her.

  She could not resist his mood. “You mean about the weather? Or about bonnets? Or about whether our child ought to have a governess or go away to school?”

  He nodded. “Instead of who died, when, and how we are going to bring people back from the grave?”

  And then she felt serious again, just as quickly. “I wish, oh, how I wish that by some miracle, all of this could work out. I want for Harold to return. It seems only right that he should return. And yet, if he does…”

  Dev took her hands and raised them to his lips. “I feel the same, Sophia. All we can do is wait.”

  She relaxed into him and sighed. “It all seemed so harmless, when you first told me about it. About Harold going away to live his life the way he wanted. No one was supposed to be hurt. I’d imagined St. John proposing to Rhoda, you and I finding our way together, and everyone living out their lives peacefully. Everything has turned to ashes! Who would have thought it could ever come to all of this?”

  Dev let out a dry chuckle. After so much death and sadness the past month, a little laughter, a little sunshine, was exactly what they needed.

  “We will give Harold until after the holidays. If he has not sent word by then, then you and I will marry in the New Year. My child will have my name, regardless of who everyone else believes the father to be.”

  At his words, Sophia remembered the night he’d first made love to her, when he’d recited the wedding vows to her by candlelight.

  “So, we wait until the New Year.”

  Dev pulled her to her feet. “Just after the holidays.”

  That seemed a lifetime away. So much could happen between then and now.

  But suddenly, hope was alive again.

  Chapter 26

  Sophia waited one more week before informing the duchess that she had sent for the local midwife. She told her that, although she’d gone several weeks before without having her courses, she’d never gone this long. In addition, she said she was experiencing a few pronounced symptoms consistent with what would be expected of a lady in an interesting condition.

  The duchess was overjoyed, of course.

  “But not the midwife, dear. We will have a physician from London attend to you. I shall keep him here on retainer so that you receive the best of care around the clock.” The duchess stood and clasped her hands in front of her. “Oh, I knew it, Sophia! I am so happy! You are giving me the greatest gift any daughter-in-law could ever give. You are giving me back a part of my son!”

  Sophia would have grimaced at this but kept a placid expression on her face. Before imparting this news to the duchess, Sophia had considered her position within the household carefully and was determined to affect some changes.

  “That is not going to be necessary, your grace,” Sophia said softly, but firmly. “I have already sent for the midwife and would find myself quite… uncomfortable having a physician here.” She paused.

  The duchess raised her brows nearly into her hairline at Sophia’s disagreeable statement.

  “I have also hired a new lady’s maid. I appreciate Penny’s efficiency and dedication, but I find she and I are not… completely sympathetic to each other.” No, Penny’s loyalty had always, and would always be, to the duchess first. Which, as the duchess’ employee, was perfectly acceptable, but Sophia decided she needed to put an end to the constant monitoring on her grace’s part.

  While meeting with the solicitors a few weeks earlier, Sophia discovered that, as Harold’s widow, she could freely access her own accounts. She would pay her maid from those funds. The girl she’d hired from a nearby village, Gilly, would be exclusively employed by Sophia. Although she would be expected to give deference to the duchess, there would be no question as to where her loyalties would lie.

  In a secretive interview, Sophia had discussed her need for privacy with the girl. And although Gilly was not as
refined and educated as Penny, Sophia felt an affinity with her. She would be arriving at the estate to take up her position later this afternoon.

  The duchess’ eyes narrowed. “You know, Sophia, that I have always had your best interests at heart in everything I do.” Her tone imparted disappointment and hurt.

  Sophia touched her mother-in-law’s hand. “And I have appreciated your care and concern…” She wanted to be honest. She wished to establish a sense of independence with this conversation. But she did not want to build a wall between herself and the duchess. “…I can no longer abide having the most personal details of my life shared with others. It makes me feel… uncomfortable, exposed.” Sophia was determined to have a maid with whom she could trust the most intimate aspects of her life. “You would not tolerate such a lack of privacy, would you?”

  The duchess pinched her lips together tightly. “The solicitors prefer a physician confirm your condition,” she persisted.

  But on these matters, Sophia was adamant.

  Emily, who was so well read as to practically be considered a bluestocking, had once explained to herself, Rhoda, and Cecily, that the difference between a physician and a good midwife could be life or death for the woman and her child. Although the physicians were well educated, they could not understand the woman’s body as a midwife could. Emily had advised her friends, on one particular occasion as they’d sat amongst the other wallflowers, that when they were with child, they ought to find a midwife who’d attended numerous births, and then investigate each of their mortality rates.

  Sophia had already asked Dev about this, and he’d taken the task to heart. He’d located a woman from Kent who was highly recommended. She would come and see Sophia later that day.

  “The midwife’s opinion will have to be good enough,” Sophia declared. She would hold her ground. “She will be here later today.”

  The duchess considered Sophia with pursed lips for a long moment before surprising her by turning and tugging at the bell pull. “Well then…” She seemed to have come to a decision. “…we might as well have some tea.”