by Alec, Joyce
“Jonathan,” she gasped. “Are you saying that our brother was friends with Mr. Carmichael?”
Jonathan frowned. “I thought Henry would have mentioned it to you. It was why he was torn between Francis’s pleas for innocence and his belief that Francis was responsible for the death of his friend. I think that is why he did not attend the court proceedings.”
Julianna, who had not been allowed to attend, closed her eyes tightly, trying to make sense of it all. She remembered that at the time of Francis’s court proceedings, Jonathan had been very unwell and had asked Henry to go in his place – but Henry had refused. She had never known why until this moment.
“Henry has never said anything to me,” she whispered, slowly things beginning to slot together in her mind. “But I do not think that he cared for Francis in any way whatsoever. He has told me only recently just how much he despises all three of us.”
“Despises?” Jonathan repeated, looking astonished. “But why?”
“Something about having very little of our father’s money and that he is the third in line,” Julianna replied, her eyes darting away from Jonathan’s for a moment as she struggled to recall what had been said. “I cannot believe this nonsense about Mr. Carmichael being a friend of Henry’s.”
“But yet, it is true,” her brother assured her. “I often saw them talking together. You should ask him, Julianna. I am sure that, with my presence, he will not be as rude to you as he was before.”
Julianna lifted an eyebrow, not at all reassured. “Indeed, I should like to speak to him of it, Jonathan, but I also think it best if Lord Sharpe is there too.” Something worrisome began to cloud her mind, as though she was on the brink of discovering something truly terrible, something that might shatter through her very existence. “Tomorrow, mayhap?”
“Over dinner,” her brother said with a quick smile. “I am quite sure you shall have nothing to worry about. Henry will not dare to be discourteous in front of me.” He lifted one shoulder in a halfhearted gesture. “There are times when being a baron has its advantages, even with one’s own family.”
“I do hope so,” Julianna replied, a feeling of deep uncertainty and fear hovering over her heart.
8
“You must have been greatly astonished!”
Thomas smiled fondly down at Miss Newton as they walked together through St James’s Park. She had written him a note that very morning, requesting his company that afternoon, and he had been more than happy to oblige, even though he was to join the rest of the family for dinner that evening.
“Indeed,” Miss Newton replied fervently, although there was a small smile playing about her lips. “I confess that I am glad to have him with us, although I cannot but be confused as to how he came to be here.”
“Your letter, you mean,” Thomas murmured, finding that to be most peculiar. “I think you were wise to ask Lord Hollard to be careful, Miss Newton. There is a reason for him to be here in London, and I confess that am a little anxious about what that reason may be.”
“As am I,” Miss Newton replied, slipping her arm under his. “I am grateful for your company and your wise guidance, my lord.”
He looked down at her, finding her to be more beautiful today than he had ever seen her before. He did not know what it was, but the sparkle in her wonderful eyes took his breath away. His steps slowed as he struggled to pull his gaze away, his heart quickening frantically as a small, slow smile began to spread across her lips. Apparently, she was not immune to his attentions.
“I think, Miss Newton, that I ought to take the Marquess of Thurston’s advice,” he said, before he could stop himself. “I…what I mean to say is…” Closing his eyes, he let his breath rattle from his chest in frustration, a little surprised by his own, sudden decision.
He had not expected to make such a declaration, realizing that his heart was more affected by Miss Newton’s nearness than he had thought. The truth was, he did not want to lose her company from his life. Yes, he had made a promise to Francis, and whilst he was desperate for the conclusion of this matter, Thomas realized that even when it had come to an end, the thought of leaving Miss Newton behind to marry another was not what he wanted.
“Should you like to walk a little further, Lord Sharpe?” Miss Newton asked, a rosy blush adorning her cheeks. She was saving him from what might be an awkward explanation, particularly when he was not entirely certain about what it was he wanted to say to her. “I think that the roses are particularly beautiful at this time of year.”
Clearing his throat, he resumed their walk and again, offered her his arm, which she took without hesitation.
“I think there is a good deal for us to share with one another, Lord Sharpe,” Miss Newton said gently, although she was not looking at him. “Although mayhap now is not quite the time to do so. There is so much to consider and so much to bring to an end that I feel as though to try and explain such things now would be more than difficult.”
“You are quite wonderful, Miss Newton,” he murmured, wishing he could wrap his arm around her and pull her close. “Yes, I think that would be wise.”
She smiled at him. “Would you call me ‘Julianna’ when we are in private then, Lord Sharpe? I feel as though this would be a welcome intimacy.” She threw a glance over her shoulder towards her maid, but as usual, she was a good few steps behind and was clearly quite unaware of what they were saying. “That is, if you would prefer it.”
Thomas could not prevent the smile from spreading across his face, such was his delight. “I think, Miss Newton – I mean, Julianna, that such a thing would bring me more happiness than I could ever express. Yes, I would be glad to do so.”
Her eyes met his, and Thomas felt his heart ache with a desperate sense of joy and overwhelming affection, realizing that this young lady had become such an intricate part of his world that he did not want to be without her. She had endured so much and yet had kept her kind spirit, her generous nature, and her ever-ready smile. She had not become hard and cold, or perpetually angry with everyone, just as her brother Henry had done. She had courage and strength, her determination to find justice for Francis’s good name more than admirable. Why had he not seen it before? To let her go to another would possibly be the most foolish thing he had ever done in his life. He could not allow Lord Borden to have her hand in marriage, not after what he had overheard and certainly not when he knew that Lord Borden did not have even a modicum of affection for Miss Newton. To be married to Lord Borden would be no life at all.
Yes, Thomas determined, as they continued to walk through the park, he would find a way to say such things, if not more, before the week was out.
“Why are you out here?”
Thomas stopped abruptly, just as Miss Newton stumbled.
“You should be at home, ensuring your brother’s safety, Miss Newton.”
Thomas turned around, just as Miss Newton did the same. They found themselves, yet again, looking into the eyes of the bearded gentleman, but Thomas noted that this time, his eyes were angry as he glared at them both. In fact, Thomas considered, there might also be a touch of fear in his expression, as though he were truly afraid for Lord Hollard.
“You are not to speak to Miss Newton in such a way,” Thomas said firmly, not allowing this fellow, despite his urgency, to be rude. “She has done more than enough, good sir. Lord Hollard is more than safe. He has remained at home and will not be leaving the townhouse until two days’ time. There is nothing to concern yourself with and certainly no need to chide Miss Newton.” He looked steadily at the fellow, feeling that same swirl of unsettling awareness. It was as though he knew the man already, but without being able to truly identify who he was.
“Did I not tell you that there was a danger that neither of you was aware of, that you would not expect?” The man’s voice was a loud whisper, evidently wanting to keep their conversation from the listening ears of the other passersby. “I have been seeking the truth as best I can; I have been looking i
nto all such matters, praying that it is not as it seems, and yet I can hide from it no longer. It must be him. I do not want to believe it, but he must be the man responsible.”
Miss Newton let go of Thomas’s arm, took a step forward and looked steadily into the man’s eyes. “I do not understand what you are saying, sir. Nor do I know who you are or why you have taken such interest in my family matters.”
The man shook his head, his mouth stretching into a thin line, his eyes dark with suppressed emotion. Thomas wondered what the fellow would look like should he shave his rather remarkable beard, for it covered most of his face and was becoming almost ridiculous in its length. He was quite certain that the man revealed underneath would look quite different from what Thomas expected.
And then, it hit him.
His stomach twisted, his eyes widened, and he stared in horror at the man, his breathing quickening frantically. “No,” he whispered. “No, it cannot be.”
Miss Newton turned towards him, looking more than confused. “What is wrong, Lord Sharpe?”
“I saw you,” Thomas whispered, not looking at Miss Newton but rather at the stranger in front of him, seeing how his eyes began to dart this way and that. “I saw you die.”
Miss Newton gasped, turning towards the fellow with one hand pressed against her heart.
“You always did have a sharp eye,” the man muttered, although no hint of happiness appeared in his expression. “Although I am relieved that it has taken you as long as it did.”
Miss Newton swayed violently, and Thomas made to catch her elbow but saw that she was not swooning but rather filled with a weakness that required his support and strength. Her eyes were open and fixed on the man, her fingers digging into Thomas’s sleeve as she held onto him.
“We should sit,” Thomas said, spying a bench to their left. “At least, Miss Newton should.”
“But of course,” the man replied gently, offering Miss Newton a small smile. “I know you will have many questions, but we must consider returning home very soon. Baron Hollard may well be in danger, and you will understand why once I have explained all to you.”
Miss Newton sat down quickly, her face almost grey with shock, but her eyes were as intense as Thomas had ever seen them.
“You died, Francis,” she said, as the bearded gentleman sat down beside her. “I did not see it myself, but Lord Sharpe here said that he did. He said you took something.”
Francis nodded slowly, not refuting that fact. “It was not poison, my dear sister. It was water.” He smiled gently at Miss Newton, who now appeared to be on the verge of tears. “I am sorry for what I have had to put you through, but I knew that someone was doing their best to destroy me, and I had to have the opportunity to discover who that particular person was.” He took Miss Newton’s hand, whilst Thomas watched in stunned silence, recalling how Francis had collapsed right in front of him in the dock over a year ago.
“But you died,” Thomas insisted quietly. “I saw you…the magistrate…”
“The magistrate was a friend of my father’s,” Francis explained quickly. “He was able to aid me in my plan. He knew full well that I would be convicted based on the evidence alone but found himself questioning the evidence.” A light flickered in his eyes. “It was he, who came to speak to me about it all; it was he who thought that I ought to have the opportunity to discover who it was that was trying to destroy me.”
Thomas nodded slowly, seeing how Miss Newton clung to her brother’s arm. “And that was why the magistrate allowed you to speak so freely? That was why he was the one to reach your body and declare you to be dead?”
“Indeed,” Francis replied gravely. “I owe that man a debt of thanks, for which I shall always be grateful.”
There was a moment or two of silence, as Thomas let the truth of Francis’s supposed death settle into his mind. His friend was not dead and buried as he had believed. He was alive and had been working hard to prove his innocence.
“But where have you been for this last year?” Miss Newton asked, taking in a shuddering breath as the tears continued to sparkle in her eyes. “Why could you not tell me that you were alive? Why did you not write?” Her fingers tightened on her brother’s sleeve, her gaze intense as she looked into Francis’s face.
“Because, my dear sister, I did not know who I could trust,” he said gently. “I hoped that Lord Sharpe would begin to consider that I might be innocent of all such crimes, and I prayed that you would join him in your considerations, but I had to wait for a year until you returned to London.”
Thomas started violently, suddenly realizing something. “When you were in the dock, you asked me to care for your sister during her next Season, and you also proclaimed your innocence,” he said softly. “And you hoped that, during that year, I would begin to question what had occurred at your trial.”
Francis nodded. “But I knew that you would not take things further because what would be the point of that?” He shrugged, patting Miss Newton’s hand. “I was dead as far as you were concerned, so there was no need to pursue the matter. But to put that note in your pocket would be an entirely different matter.” His lips thinned, his eyes narrowing, although he did not direct his gaze towards Thomas. “By then, I had already begun to have my suspicions.”
Miss Newton let out a deep sigh, closing her eyes tightly. “What suspicions, Francis?”
Francis did not reply immediately, although Thomas could not tell what was going through Francis’s mind given just how much of his face was covered. “I think, Julianna, that we need to return to the townhouse.”
Miss Newton’s eyes opened, and she stared in astonishment at her brother. “You want to come back to the townhouse? To tell Henry and Hollard that you are alive?”
Francis shook his head slowly, and for the first time, Thomas began to realize what was troubling Francis. He held his breath, seeing the warning look in Francis’s eyes.
“No, Julianna,” he said slowly. “I know that Jonathan would welcome me back with open arms; he would be relieved and understanding, but I cannot say the same for Henry. He might go to the Bow Street Runners and demand that I am carted back to jail!”
Thomas saw Miss Newton sigh and nod her head, her understanding and agreement evident.
“Therefore, I think I should try to be as unobtrusive as possible,” Francis continued quickly. “I shall be within the house but remain entirely unseen until the time comes.”
Miss Newton looked confused. “Until the time comes?” she repeated, shuffling in her seat a little so that she could look at her brother fully in the face. “What do you mean by that remark?”
Thomas cleared his throat, grabbing Miss Newton’s attention. “I think, Miss Newton, that all will become clear during our dinner this evening,” he said slowly, seeing Francis nod. He was on the right path then, which was both a relief and a horrible truth in equal measure. Little wonder that Francis wanted to protect his sister from any further pain until it was entirely unavoidable.
“Please, no more secrets,” Miss Newton begged, looking from her brother to Thomas and back again. “I have spent the last year believing you were dead and gone, Francis. I have tried to quiet my mind over the question of your innocence, over the terrible truth that you took your own life instead of facing justice. I have wept over your grave. I have torn my heart to pieces about your burial being outside of the churchyard; and now you have come back from the grave and still refuse to tell me the truth of it all! Why? Why must you continue to protect me so? I am stronger than you know.”
Thomas nodded slowly, his expression grave. That was true, he had to admit. Miss Newton was strong. She did have that fire and determination within her, but this truth would be painful for all of them to bear, but especially for the family.
“He is merely trying to protect you, Miss Newton,” Thomas said gently, hunkering down in front of her and ignoring the surprised looks from the other gentlemen and ladies that walked past her. “This has been a terrible
shock – for us both, I will admit, and given that there is more to come, it is only right that we try to recover ourselves a little.” He saw her smile and felt his heart swell with both relief and love. “It is not because your character does not have a strength of its own, Miss Newton, but rather that this may dampen even the strongest fire.”
Miss Newton sighed heavily and, pulling out her lace handkerchief, dabbed at her eyes until there was no more moisture there.
“Very well,” she said, her voice a little tremulous. “I should trust you, I think.” She managed to smile at her brother before returning her gaze to Thomas. “And I do. I trust you both.”
“Very good,” Francis replied, sounding relieved. “Then have no fear; I shall be present at dinner tonight and will reveal myself in due course.”
Miss Newton frowned, turning her head towards her brother. “But how will you enter the house without being seen?”
Her brother laughed and patted her hand. “I have had to improve certain skills over my year of living alone,” he said with a small smile. “And whilst breaking into homes is not at all something I enjoy doing, I have become quite capable at doing so without being seen. I shall be there, Julianna. You need not worry.”
“What is the meaning of this?”
Thomas jerked in surprise, getting to his feet to see none other than Lord Borden bearing down upon both himself and Miss Newton.
“A public proposal?” Lord Borden roared, his face almost purple with anger. “I asked you, Lord Sharpe, if there was any intention of you pursuing Miss Newton, and you assured me there was not! And now I see this!” He gestured violently towards Miss Newton, who looked up at Lord Borden in astonishment, evidently a little too surprised to rise to her feet. Mayhap the shock of seeing her brother again had not quite left her.
“Lord Borden,” Thomas began, trying to placate the man. “You need not think that—”
“You know that I have had every intention to propose to her!” Lord Borden interrupted, capturing the attention of others within the park. “And now I see that you are doing so yourself.” He jabbed one finger into Thomas’s chest, sending a ripple of anger all through him. “And I have been wondering why Miss Newton has been less than inclined to my visits and has outright refused to come for either a walk or a ride with me these last few days. Now, I see the explanation for such behavior for myself.”