by Alec, Joyce
“I thank you,” Henrietta whispered, looking at each one in turn and feeling herself surrounded by companionship. It was a sensation she had never experienced before, and to have it now brought her a good deal of relief and a small sense of happiness despite the shock and the terror of what had occurred. “You are all very, very kind. This is more than I could have ever asked for.”
Lord Wickton grinned. “You can relay your thanks to Newton, Lady Chaucer. It was he who was quite determined to call upon you today, to ensure that you were not at all injured or hurt by that brute of a husband of yours.” His grin faded, although his eyes were still light. “Newton is the one who has concocted this plan, who removed you from the house without being seen. It is to him your thanks ought to go.”
Henrietta turned her head and looked back towards Mr. Francis Newton but saw that his head was lowered, his eyes fixed on a point on the floor.
“I thank you, Mr. Newton, sir,” she said softly. “You are barely acquainted with me and yet you have become the truest friend. What would have become of me without your assistance is not quite worth considering.”
Slowly, Francis lifted his head and allowed his gaze to settle on hers. There was something in his expression she could not understand, something that he appeared to be holding back behind his eyes. She wanted to ask him what it was, wanted to understand why he had been so determined to come in search of her on what was a most inappropriate day to do so, given that it was the day after her wedding, but she could find nothing particular to say.
“You need not thank me, Lady Chaucer,” Francis said gently, as though there were only the two of them in the room. “After what we spoke of last evening, my heart went out to you for your strife. I am truly glad that my heart would not allow me rest until I went to your townhouse in search of you. It seems that it knew that you would need my assistance.”
Henrietta swallowed hard, not knowing what to say and overcome by the intensity of his gaze.
“More tea, I think.”
Miss James’ voice interrupted the conversation between Henrietta and Francis, and she found herself grateful for it. There was more than enough to deal with, more than enough to think about, without adding the feelings within her heart to it all.
“Thank you,” she managed to say, dragging her eyes away from Mr. Newton to focus on Miss James. “I think we shall turn out to be very good friends indeed, Miss James, given just how much you have done for me thus far.”
Miss James smiled and pushed Henrietta’s cup and saucer back towards her. “I would be very glad of that, Lady Chaucer,” she said, looking pleased. “Now, once you are recovered a little more, we shall retire to the guest room, which Mr. Newton has so graciously provided for us, where your new gown is waiting.”
“I thank you,” Henrietta said again, a lump in her throat as she picked up her tea. “You have all saved my life, in a way, and I do not think I shall ever be able to express the depth of my gratitude.”
“There is no need,” Lord Wickton replied, accepting another cup from his sister. “I am very glad to be of service to you, as are my sister and Mr. Newton.” He smiled at her, and Henrietta managed a small smile back in his direction. “You have done very well, Lady Chaucer. I just pray that you will have enough strength for what is to come next.”
6
Francis glanced at Lady Chaucer as they sat opposite one another in the carriage. She was pale-faced, her pallor in stark contrast to her dark hair, but appeared to be a good deal more composed than when she had first awoken. Truly, she had accepted the burden of what had occurred with her husband with a lot more understanding and quiet acceptance than he had expected. It had only been when she had seen the blood on her arms and her gown that she had begun to panic.
The rest of the afternoon had gone remarkably well. Lady Chaucer had allowed herself to be escorted from the room by Miss James, whose maid had done wonders for the lady. When she had arrived back in the drawing room, clad in a new, fresh gown of lavender, with her hair pinned up beautifully, he had felt his breath rush from his body at the sight of her.
She had looked exceedingly beautiful, even though he had berated himself for thinking such things of a young lady who had only just lost her husband, and in terrible circumstances at that.
Now, wearing a borrowed bonnet and a thin cloak that was sure to warm her, Lady Chaucer sat quietly in the carriage, her hands sitting gently in her lap. She looked out of the window, although there was not a good deal that could be seen given the gloom and the lateness of the hour. He had not wanted to force Lady Chaucer’s hand and ask her to return to the house before she was ready to do so. Therefore, they had chosen to dine together, and that had appeared to lift Lady Chaucer’s spirits to the point that she was ready to return to her own townhouse once the final course had been served.
Now, all she had to do was appear both shocked and distraught over what had occurred, as though she could not quite take it in. She might even appear to faint, he had told her, seeing as both he and Lord Wickton were there to catch her should she do so. He did not think that she would need to do very much playacting, for her fright and her shock were still quite evident when she was not distracted by discussion or the like. Francis felt his heart reach out to her, as if telling him he ought to comfort her in some way—although what he was meant to do precisely, he had very little idea.
“We have arrived.”
Francis swallowed hard, seeing Lady Chaucer’s face whiten just a little more. “You will do very well, Lady Chaucer,” he said reassuringly. “You have nothing to fear. Remember that you are not to go into this house alone. You shall not be by yourself for even a single moment.” Seeing her eyes drift back to his, he gave her as comforting a smile as he could. “Permit yourself to trust us, Lady Chaucer.”
“Oh, but I do,” she replied quickly, reaching out a gloved hand and pressing his for a moment. “It is naught but the fear of discovering my husband’s body, if my staff have not done so already.”
At this remark, Francis found himself growing a little concerned. He shared a look with Lord Wickton and discovered that his friend was also frowning, his eyes a little narrowed. Lady Chaucer had said something entirely innocuous but it did make a good deal of sense.
“My staff have heard nothing,” Lord Wickton commented, as though he could read Francis’ thoughts. “They are not inclined to gossip—”
“Because you have threatened to discharge them without reference if they do so,” Miss James interrupted with a light smile.
“Exactly,” Lord Wickton agreed, with an indulgent look in his sister’s direction. “But regardless of that, it is a little surprising that nothing has been said as yet about Lord Chaucer’s death. I would have expected someone in town to have said something, or that a rumor or two would have reached my doorstep.” His frown deepened, sending Francis’ mind whirring. “And no one has come searching for Lady Chaucer.”
“On that point, you need not concern yourself,” Lady Chaucer said softly, as the carriage began to slow upon nearing the house. “As I stated, I have no acquaintances to speak of, so my husband’s staff will not have known where to look or what to do. I expect them to be entirely in an uproar, as you have suggested, Mr. Newton.”
This was said with a darting glance in Francis’ direction, giving him a slight start. His reaction to this particular lady was a little overwhelming, despite the strange circumstances they found themselves in. He could not deny that his heart had quickened with every small smile she had sent in his direction, with every bit of trust she had so obviously put in him. His heart went out to her, pained for her difficult trial of living with such as man as Lord Chaucer, and only finding comfort in the knowledge that he could now bring her a good deal of hope in what was a difficult situation.
“We will remain by your side,” Miss James said encouragingly, as the carriage door opened. “You need not worry, Lady Chaucer.”
“I thank you.” Lady Chaucer’s voice was soft a
s she made her way from the carriage, swiftly followed by Miss James, Lord Wickton, and then Francis himself. They stood together just outside the townhouse, as if each of them needed a moment to draw the strength they would need for what was to come.
Francis gently placed his hand on Lady Chaucer’s arm for a moment, pressing it lightly to encourage her without the need for words. Lady Chaucer glanced up at him, holding his gaze and drawing in a long breath as she did so.
And then, she stepped forward, climbed the steps and, just as she did so, the front door swung open.
Francis held his breath.
“Good evening, Lady Chaucer.”
A dark frown marred his brow as he followed Lady Chaucer inside, aware that the butler was greeting her in as genial a manner as ever.
“You know Mr. Newton, I think,” Lady Chaucer said, no trace of confusion in her voice. “He discovered me after all and was able to pass on the Duke’s felicitations.” She arched an eyebrow at the butler, just as Miss James and Lord Wickton filed in behind her. “You did not know that I had gone from the house, I hear? That is most disappointing, especially when it was one of the footmen who assisted me out of the front door.”
Francis hid a smile as the butler began to bluster, his face now tinged red as he tried to come up with some excuse for Lady Chaucer.
“It is not of particular importance,” Lady Chaucer continued, talking over the butler’s excuses, which forced the man into silence again. “I have spent the afternoon with Miss James, Lord Wickton, and Mr. Newton here, and they are to stay for a short visit this evening. Cards and the like, I think.” She turned her head and flashed Francis a smile, which he returned. She was doing remarkably well, he thought to himself, seeing the butler almost cowed as he inclined his head.
“Might I ask if Lord Chaucer has roused himself yet?” Lady Chaucer’s voice was clear and without any sort of intonation to betray her fear and confusion. “I know he was to remain abed for some time, but surely by now…”
“The master has not been seen, Lady Chaucer,” the butler said quickly. “As you know, if he says he is not to be disturbed, then the staff make sure to do precisely as he has asked. Therefore, no one has been in his bedchamber since last evening.” He inclined his head again, as if he feared Lady Chaucer might berate him for doing her husband’s bidding.
“I understand,” Lady Chaucer said calmly. “But if you would go to him now and rouse him, I would be most grateful. We have guests and I must insist that he greet them.” She looked at the butler steadily, who seemed horrified at the suggestion. It seemed that the man’s loyalty to his master knew no bounds.
“At this very moment, if you please,” Lady Chaucer insisted firmly, her chin lifted a little despite her slight stature. “We shall go to… the drawing room perhaps?” She looked from Francis to Lord Wickton and Miss James, a small smile on her face although her eyes were filled with a depth of pain and confusion that Francis could well understand.
“The library would be best for cards, I think,” Miss James suggested, given that she was the only one not present beforehand and therefore, from the butler’s viewpoint, would have no awareness of Lord Chaucer’s body still lying there on the rug. “If that would suit you, Lady Chaucer?”
Lady Chaucer gave a half shrug as though she did not particularly care, although Francis was sure he could see a slight tremble about her mouth. “I do not think that it matters, Miss James, but I would be glad to show you the library. You must recall, however, that I am only just now married and have very little knowledge of the library and all that it contains.”
Miss James laughed softly and smiled. “I shall be sure not to ask you many questions then, my lady,” she replied, as Lady Chaucer smiled back at her. “But I would dearly love to see the library, if that is permissible.”
“More than permissible, of course,” Lady Chaucer responded, turning back towards the butler. “Refreshments in the library, then, and have someone rouse my husband. I must have him introduced to my dear friends.”
The butler hesitated, bowed, and then departed, allowing Francis a moment to draw in a long breath that chased away a good deal of his anxiety. Lady Chaucer had done very well to cover herself in innocence so completely, although he confessed that he was a little surprised that the staff had not yet discovered the body of Lord Chaucer. Surely a maid would have been in the room to clean and dust, if not to set a fire. Why had no one raised the alarm? Why did the butler appear to be just as he ought, if there was a body lying in the house? Did their fear of their master prove so great that they would not dare bring his death to light, in case one of them was considered to be guilty?
“You did remarkably well, Lady Chaucer,” Lord Wickton murmured, taking a few slow steps in the direction of the library. “You have only to continue with your courageous and strong demeanor for a few more minutes.”
Lady Chaucer, now free of the butler’s presence, let out a shaky breath and Francis immediately offered his arm, which she accepted at once.
“I do not know how I managed to do such a thing,” she stated, without looking at any of them. “To speak of my husband so when I know full well that he is gone from this earth is quite…” She trailed off, shaking her head as she leaned heavily on Francis’ arm.
“You have not brought any suspicion upon yourself, Lady Chaucer, and that is all that matters,” Francis replied resolutely, as they made their way towards the library. “The butler believed you to have been with Miss James and therefore will have nothing of consequence to say when questions are asked.” With his free hand, he patted her fingers gently as they held onto his arm. “You have a strength within you that I think you yourself do not quite grasp.”
Lady Chaucer looked up at him, her eyes flickering with unspoken agony. “I have always sought a freedom that was never offered to me,” she said in such a low voice that only he could hear her. “My father constantly spoke of my stubbornness and I always tried to remove it from myself as he wished, so that there was never any trace of it within my character but I could never seem to stop hoping for something more, for something that was entirely my own.” Shaking her head, she let her gaze drop. “When I wed Lord Chaucer, the very moment I became Lady Chaucer, I felt my future shackle itself to my husband. My hope of finding a freedom that I had forever longed for but never discovered seemed to disappear.”
“And now, despite the circumstances, you may have it,” Francis said encouragingly, as they reached the library door. Lady Chaucer reached for the handle and, with only a momentary hesitation, pushed it open. “Courage, Lady Chaucer. The worst is yet to come but it will be over very soon.”
Together, Francis and Lady Chaucer walked into the library, each expecting to find the stench of blood and death reaching their nostrils in a matter of seconds.
Much to their surprise, nothing like that accosted them. In fact, the room smelled quite pleasant and there was a large fire roaring in the grate, as though someone had known that they would return to the library.
Lady Chaucer let out a tremulous breath. “Where is he?” she whispered, her fingers digging into Francis’ arm all the more. “Where did you see him?”
“Newton?” Lord Wickton’s voice was confused. “I thought you said he was by the fire, but from where I am standing…”
He trailed off but Francis did not need to hear the rest of the sentence to know what Lord Wickton was stating. There was no body as far as he could see either, for the furniture had been moved back slightly as if to give them a clear view of the fireplace.
“I do not understand,” he breathed, taking a few steps closer to the fire and staring at the floor where he had last seen Lord Chaucer’s body. “He was lying here.”
“Where?”
Francis walked together with Lady Chaucer and pointed at the floor, looking up to see the chair from where he had plucked Lady Chaucer some hours ago. “Lady Chaucer, you were seated here, and your husband was by your feet.” He pointed again to the carpet, his
mind working quickly as something began to nag at him. “I do not understand.”
Lord Wickton harrumphed quietly, as Miss James began to wander around the room as though she might find the body now lying somewhere else.
“Something peculiar is going on here, Newton,” Lord Wickton stated darkly. “I do not doubt for a moment that you saw such a dread thing, but I cannot understand where it has gone now, for to remove a body from the house is nigh impossible without being seen!”
“And my husband’s staff would have said something, or alerted someone,” Lady Chaucer added, her voice still quiet. “I do not understand what has occurred.”
Francis groaned and rubbed at his forehead. Lady Chaucer let go of his arm and sat down in the nearby chair, taking pains to avoid the one that he had found her in earlier than day.
“I do not understand, either,” he said harshly, still rubbing his forehead as though doing so would reveal something of use. “I walked in here and saw the hand on the floor.” He walked back to the library door, trying to retrace his steps. “When I came in for a further look, fearing that it might be Lady Chaucer, I soon discovered that the body was clad in gentleman’s clothing, and when I took a further look, I realized that it was Lord Chaucer.” He gestured hopelessly to the chair that he had found Lady Chaucer in. “Lady Chaucer was sitting there, the knife in her lap. I helped it to fall to the floor beside the body before taking her away. I cannot understand where it has gone!” Letting his hands fall to his sides and still struggling to recall whatever it was that was biting at him, trying to remind him of something he had forgotten, Francis let out another frustrated groan.
“The body cannot simply have disappeared, surely.” Miss James stared at Francis, spreading her hands wide. “That is unthinkable.”
“Not to mention, more than a little difficult,” Lord Wickton added grimly. “To remove a body from the library, and thereafter, the house, would require careful planning as well as the acceptance and aid of the staff. Someone must know what has occurred.”