Weddings and Scandals: Regency Romance Collection
Page 24
Her desperate eyes turned towards Lord Wickton, seeing him frowning as his eyes fixed on the small fire in the grate. She waited, forcing herself not to speak a single word.
“The letter Francis found was from your father, Henrietta.”
Grave eyes turned towards her.
“I would let you read it for yourself, but unfortunately, Newton kept it in his pocket,” Lord Wickton continued heavily. “It spoke of something that we did not quite understand.”
Henrietta began to tremble, forcing her to sit in a chair by Lord Wickton, her hands twisting together in her lap. “What did it say specifically, Wickton?” she asked, her heart slamming painfully against her chest. “What did my father write?”
Lord Wickton sat forward, his elbows on his knees and his hands pressed together as though in prayer.
“It was not pleasant to read, Henrietta, but it said something akin to your father not failing Lord Chaucer in the evening’s plans.” He shook his head. “Of what evening, I cannot say. However, it also spoke of a desire to…” He trailed off, looking away from her.
“Do not keep it from me,” Henrietta pleaded. “Speak plainly, Wickton. I will not find the truth of what you have to say in any way distressing. I know my father well.”
Lord Wickton sighed, as though what he had to say pained him to even consider speaking it. “He stated that neither of them would ever have to think of you again, once the future they had planned for you had been brought into being..” Spreading his hands, Lord Wickton sighed again, even more heavily. “Wedid not know what such a thing meant, nor what the plans were for the future that they spoke of. We still do not.”
Henrietta shuddered violently, pressing her hands together tightly so that she might stop them from shaking. “I cannot think what my father meant but I did once believe that his choice of husband was punishment enough for me. It seems that I have been wrong in that thought. It is as though he has tried to ensure that my life, my future, is darker than I could even imagine.” A single tear slipped down her cheek, the pain in her heart almost overwhelming. “It is not a shock nor an astonishment to me, Wickton. My father has always feared that either myself or my sister will turn out to behave as his own mother once did and has so spent his life forcing his will upon us in the hope that we will not do so. Unfortunately, as the years passed, he never once felt himself relieved of his burden. It grew steadily instead.” Blinking back the rest of her tears, she looked up at him. “I am not broken hearted over this news, Wickton. It is only that I have been quite broken by having a father who cares so little for me and has been solely determined to force me to live by his dictates in order to satisfy his own fears.” She lifted her chin, sniffing just a little as the fire began to burn within her once more. “I shall not allow the dread and pain I have lived with for so many years to continue to hold me back any longer. Charlotte, Francis, and even yourself, Lord Wickton, have allowed me to see what a life unfettered by darkness can be like. I have found friendship, love, and joy, and I will not let them go from me now.” Getting to her feet and ignoring the slight unsteadiness in her limbs, she looked back at Lord Wickton with determination. “Even if we do not know what my father and Lord Chaucer meant, I will not allow my anxiety to hold me back from seeking out Francis. We must go to find him. And we must go at this very moment, before it is much too late.”
* * *
Walking into Lord Chaucer’s townhouse took more courage than Henrietta had expected, even with Lord Wickton and Charlotte by her side. This had never been her home and it felt as though she were walking into a darkness that wanted to drag her in and claim her for its own.
“Ah, Lady Chaucer!”
Much to Henrietta’s surprise, the butler was at the door in a moment, bowing at the waist.
“I must apologize for not attending to your distress earlier, my lady.” The butler bowed again, seeming to be deeply apologetic. “Mr. Newton has made my failing quite clear and I can assure you that it will not happen again.”
“I thank you,” Henrietta murmured graciously, a little confused over the butler’s demeanor. “Speaking of Mr. Newton, might I ask where he is at this present moment?”
The butler blinked. “I do not understand, Lady Chaucer. Mr. Newton is not in the house.”
“But he remained here after I escorted Lady Chaucer back to my residence,” Lord Wickton stated, coming a little closer to the butler. “Where did he go once we had gone?”
Clearing his throat, the butler placed his hands behind his back. “Mr. Newton spoke to the cook below stairs, my lord,” he said with a small inclination of his head. “Thereafter, I could not say. I presume he left the house either through the servants’ entrance or the front entrance, although I did not see him myself.”
Lord Wickton cleared his throat gruffly, throwing a glance towards Henrietta that told her he did not believe the butler entirely.
“I think, then, that you should summon the footmen and ask them if any opened the door for Mr. Newton, in light of your absence,” Henrietta said quickly, forcing a sternness into her voice that had the butler jerking slightly. “We shall conduct a brief search of each room, to ensure that Mr. Newton is not resting or residing in any of them.” She did not wait for the butler to speak but marched on into the house, her shoulders set. “Send the footmen to the drawing room,” she called out, over her shoulder. “We shall return there presently.”
“I shall remain with you, of course,” Charlotte murmured, hurrying to keep up with Henrietta. “Where shall we first look?”
Henrietta paused. “Lord Wickton, might you look above stairs?” she asked, turning to see Lord Wickton nodding, his expression dark. “Charlotte and I shall look below stairs. Shall we meet in the drawing room in a few minutes?”
“A few minutes,” Lord Wickton agreed, his eyes flicking back towards the butler who stood a little behind them. “I do not understand what has occurred to Newton but I do not feel that the staff in this house are being entirely truthful. Both Newton and myself said as much this afternoon.”
Henrietta nodded, glad that Charlotte had chosen to link arms with her. Despite her desire to be strong and courageous, she still felt anxiety writhe through her as they began to walk towards the drawing room, as though she feared she would find Francis in the very same position that he had found her husband so many weeks ago.
“I am quite sure he is safe,” Charlotte murmured reassuringly, as Henrietta opened the drawing room door. They stepped inside quickly, their eyes running over every single thing in the room.
“He is not here,” Henrietta replied, her breathing quickening. “I do hope you are correct, Charlotte. I cannot imagine what has become of him.”
Charlotte’s hand grasped her arm for a moment, trying to bring her a little more comfort. “We shall find a way through, my dear friend,” she promised, as they made their way towards the dining room. “I have seen you become more courageous than ever before over these last weeks. You shall find him by sheer determination, if nothing else.”
Henrietta could not quite bring herself to smile, her nerves fraying as she pushed open the dining room door. They walked in to see the room lit by a good many candles, as though the staff had been expecting either herself or Lord Chaucer to come to sit down and dine.
“How very odd,” she commented, a frown marring her brow as she let go of Charlotte’s hand to walk closer to the table. “Why would the staff have the table lit in such a fashion if neither myself nor Lord Chaucer are present?”
Charlotte looked equally confused. “I could not say,” she replied, remaining close to the door. “Unless they were taking liberties and choosing to eat in the main part of the house?”
“It is a thought,” Henrietta allowed, “although my staff appeared to be quite terrified of Lord Chaucer, which is what I would have expected given what I know of him. It would be peculiar for them to take such a risk, especially when they are unaware that Lord Chaucer is not missing, as they think.”
“If Francis is not here, then I shall have to search below stairs,” she decided, seeing Charlotte nod. “I must ensure that not a single room is left closed. If Francis is here, then I cannot return to your townhouse without being certain that I have looked in every single place available.”
“I quite understand,” Charlotte replied, as Henrietta pushed the door of the study open. “Just do wait until my brother is prepared to take you below stairs, for he would be most displeased to discover you had gone there without his presence.”
Henrietta nodded, her eyes adjusting to the dim light that came from the fire burning low in the grate. The door closed behind Charlotte, the sound sending a start of surprise through Henrietta.
“Another strangeness,” Charlotte observed, coming to stand beside Henrietta. “Why is there a fire in the grate if there is no one within the study?”
Henrietta made to answer, her thought being that mayhap the staff were doing all they could to prepare the study in case Lord Chaucer returned, only for a sudden sound to startle her into silence.
Charlotte clutched at her hand as the groaning and scraping of a wooden chair met their ears. A low moan echoed around the room, making Henrietta cry out in fright.
The fire gave her very little light to see by, her eyes still struggling to detect where the sound had come from. Charlotte was beginning to pull her towards the door, her whispered urgings only just starting to make their way into Henrietta’s mind. The sound came again, sending terror ricocheting through her, and before she could even think of what to do, Charlotte had tugged her out of the room.
The two ladies stared at one another, their eyes wide with fright.
“There is someone within,” Henrietta whispered, still clutching Charlotte’s hand. “What if it is Francis? What if he is hurt?”
“I should go to fetch my brother,” Charlotte replied, her chest heaving with fright as they both stepped out into the hallway. “We should go together, Henrietta, for you know that he would not wish you to face this danger alone.”
Henrietta let go of Charlotte’s hand, feeling her heart beating fast as her anxiety rose all the more. She wanted to wait for Lord Wickton, wanted to allow him to go into the study first to see what it was that was making such a dreadful sound, but the urgency to see whether or not it was Francis tore at her.
“I—I will fetch the candles from the dining room and go back within,” she said, trying to find the courage she would need deep within her heart. If it was Francis, then she wanted to help him just as soon as she could. “I am sure Lord Wickton will only be a few moments.”
Charlotte shook her head, but Henrietta did not allow her friend to discourage her.
“I will be but a few minutes,” she said with a tight smile. “I will meet you and Lord Wickton outside the study and will not go in without you.”
“Pray do so,” Charlotte begged, still not looking quite certain about Henrietta’s insistence that she remain here. “Do not go in alone.”
Henrietta nodded although she did not outright agree. “Go, then.” Watching as Charlotte hurried towards the stairs, Henrietta took in a deep breath, set her shoulders and turned back towards the dining room. A light sheen of sweat appeared on her forehead as she fought against the overwhelming terror that threatened to wash over her and capture her entirely.
The dining room was just as she had left it. Shadows bounced off the walls, but she kept her gaze focused on the light and the candles within. “I will not fail you, Francis,” she whispered, turning around with a candlestick in her hand—only for the door to open and a figure to walk into the room.
Expecting it to be Lord Wickton, Henrietta stumbled back in horror and fright when she realized that her husband, Lord Chaucer, stood before her.
He was alive.
“So, you have decided to come and free that wretch of a man, Mr. Newton,” Lord Chaucer said, a sneer in his voice. “How very weak of you, Henrietta.”
Henrietta’s world began to tilt, her breathing light as the darkness began to mount around her.
“And of course, now you will faint because you have never had any sort of strength,” her husband spat angrily. “You did not work out what had occurred, did you? It was only because of that fool of a man, that imbecile who chose to involve himself where he was not wanted, that you are as you are now.”
From just outside the dining room door, Henrietta could hear voices growing ever closer. Lord Chaucer laughed horribly and turned the key in the lock, barring her from her friends, from Francis.
“They will work it out soon enough,” Lord Chaucer stated, as though it was quite normal for him to reappear after having been seen dead. “But you have nowhere else to go, Henrietta. You are under my authority now and I forbid you from seeing any of those… acquaintances again.” The word was hissed, his eyes narrowing into tiny slits as he glared at her. It was as though he knew what was in her heart, knew that she had found a sense of freedom with Lord Wickton, Charlotte, and Francis, and was now entirely devoted to destroying her completely.
“I do not understand,” Henrietta whispered, still gripping the candlestick tightly and forcing herself not to give in to the urge to faint and let unconsciousness take a hold of her. “Mr. Newton saw you.”
Lord Chaucer took a few steps towards her, but Henrietta seized the opportunity to hurry behind the table, putting as much distance between them as she could. Now Lord Chaucer could not move to grasp a hold of her without giving her the opportunity to run to the door. Relief washed over her, sending some of her fear away.
A vision of Francis dragged itself into her mind, followed by the sharp memories of how she had managed to stand up to her father. Was she truly about to fail now? Was she simply to allow Lord Chaucer to do as he pleased whilst she fell obediently into line? Yes, he was her husband and yes, she had made promises to him before God, but he had made those very same promises and treated her as though she meant nothing to him.
He had, for whatever reason, set up his own death, only to rise and force himself to hide away when she had not been discovered by his staff and therefore not been held responsible. He had treated her in the way he thought best because, when the truth was laid out, Henrietta knew she meant nothing to him.
She was not about to give in to his demands for loyalty and obedience now, not after what he had done. A reminder of her mother, of how weak and tired she was, of how empty her eyes were, floated in Henrietta’s vision. If she remained with Lord Chaucer, then she was bound to the same fate. Had not her sister, Mary, seen the grievous harm that had been done to their mother by their father? Had she not come up with a plan to try and remove their dear mama from his clutches, so that she might experience joy for what would be the first time in many, many years? If she remained with Lord Chaucer, then would her own children seek to do the very same for her?
“Henrietta!”
Francis’ voice reached through the locked door towards her, jerking her from her thoughts and turning Lord Chaucer’s face a deep purple. Francis banged on the door hard, his voice filled with wrath.
“Let her go, Chaucer!” he shouted, revealing to Henrietta that the reason Francis had not returned to Lord Wickton’s home was because he had stumbled across the truth about Lord Chaucer. “You have no need to do this.”
Henrietta took a few steps towards the door, but Lord Chaucer’s sharp eyes caught her and he moved accordingly, forcing her to step back behind the table.
“If only you had not interfered, Newton!” Lord Chaucer shouted, a vein bulging in his temples. “And Henrietta, if you had not associated with this man then he might never have come to seek you out the day you were meant to be discovered!”
Henrietta shook her head, her heart thumping furiously. “I do not understand what you speak of, Lord Chaucer,” she stated, in as l
oud a voice as she could despite the tension that ran through her. “But I will not allow you to lay blame upon this gentleman for his rescue of me.” She still did not have any understanding as to why Lord Chaucer had done such a dreadful thing as fake his own death and set her up as the responsible party, but knew within herself that she had no other choice but to defend Francis in the face of Lord Chaucer’s wrath. “I have tasted the joys of life when one is shown respect and consideration. I have seen what it is to have friendship in one’s life. Friendship that I have never experienced before but now know that I cannot do without.” She saw Lord Chaucer glare at her but felt no fear, only a growing steadiness deep within her soul. “I will not stay silent and be the obedient, quiet wife you wish me to be. I will not stay with a gentleman who has done such terrible, inexplicable things.” Drawing herself up, she looked steadily back at him. “I cannot remain here with you. I shall be departing from this house.”
Lord Chaucer began to laugh then, the harsh sound grating on Henrietta as she watched him. Lord Chaucer laughed for some minutes, mocking her with each second that passed, but Henrietta did not speak or take back what she had said. Her mind was quite made up. She would find a way to remove herself from this house, even if it meant breaking every promise she had made on the day of their wedding. She could not stay here as his wife, not when she knew that he would torture her for every day of her life, simply because he wished to. It was cruelty itself and, on that count, Henrietta knew that she did not have to remain in his household.