by Alec, Joyce
“You have no one to turn to,” Lord Chaucer said through his raucous laughter. “Your friends will leave you, just as your own father and sister have done. You have nothing, Henrietta.”
“That is not true,” Henrietta replied firmly, knowing all too well that Lord Chaucer was trying to remove hope from her. Her father might have had no care for her but as for Mary, Henrietta knew that her sister loved her dearly, as she did her. “I have a deep friendship with three others who I know care for me. They have helped me to grow the small burning courage that I have never truly been able to rid myself of, no matter what my father tried. I have found a way through the hurt and pain, allowing myself to hope and having that hope fulfilled.”
“You are not alone, Henrietta!”
Francis’ shouted words through the door brought a small smile to Henrietta’s face, which seemed to enrage Lord Chaucer. His face lost its mocking grin, his eyes growing dark as he thumped one fist on top of the dining room table, making her jump.
“Had it not been for Mr. Newton, then none of this would have occurred,” he snarled angrily. “You, Henrietta, were to be found by the staff. They were to send for your father and the whole story then spread quickly around London…the rumor mill would do as it does best, and your shame and disgrace would have been made known to everyone.” His eyes narrowed, a large vein throbbing in his forehead. “And yet Mr. Newton appeared, took you away and frustrated all of my plans.”
Henrietta, seeing her husband now looking away from her and directing his words towards the door, began to edge slowly towards that very place, taking tiny steps so that he would not notice her doing so. Lord Chaucer’s gaze swung back towards her, forcing her to halt.
“Had it not been for Mr. Newton, then you would be removed from this house and from my life. From your father’s life. And all that would have been left would have been to reap the benefits.”
Henrietta stared at her husband, slowly beginning to make sense of what had occurred.
“You and my father,” she whispered brokenly, one hand pressed against her heart. “This was something you planned together.”
“Of course it was!” Lord Chaucer bellowed, as though she was being perfectly idiotic. “Are you truly so foolish that you have not yet realized that this was all for our benefit, Henrietta?” He laughed again, darkly, shaking his head as though she were nothing more than a simpleton.
“Explain yourself.”
The words ripped from Henrietta’s mouth with a good deal more force than she had intended, finding a sudden anger burning up within her. She had no knowledge of what her husband was speaking about, feeling as though she had been nothing but a puppet in some ignoble scheme.
“Explain it all to me, Chaucer. I must know what it was you were trying to do.”
Lord Chaucer’s eyes flared in surprise, before his sneer returned to his face. “You have such little intelligence it comes as no surprise to me that I must explain it to you,” he stated, spreading his hands. “But given that I shall achieve my aim regardless, I can see no reason why I should not have you understand it all.”
Henrietta pressed her lips together tightly, trying to contain the shudder that spread through her at the darkness in her husband’s face. “You and my father worked together.”
He shrugged. “It was your father’s plan, Henrietta. Why do you think that he spent so very long trying to seek you a husband?” A chuckle escaped from the corner of his mouth. “Because he could not find a gentleman willing to do as he asked.”
Henrietta gripped the candlestick tighter. “What did he ask?”
Lord Chaucer shook his head, as though he pitied her. “You did not know of the money bequeathed to you, did you?”
Swallowing hard, Henrietta tried not to react, her mind scrambling to make sense of what her husband had said.
“Your father hated his mother—your grandmother—with a passion that even I felt when I spoke to him. He thought her the most indecent, the most improper of all ladies given her sense of self-importance, her disregard for her expected obedience, and her unwillingness to do as she was asked.” He sniffed, his lip curling. “Unbeknownst to your father, your grandmother set aside a large sum of money for your sister and also for you, which was to be released to you within the first month of your marriage.”
Henrietta’s stomach twisted, breathing hard as she gripped the candlestick. “My sister…”
“She has not informed you of it, no,” Lord Chaucer interrupted, evidently aware of what it was she had expected to ask. “Your father made certain that no letters were exchanged between you and your sister, did he not? And if she were ever to visit, then he was always present. No, there was no opportunity given to her to allow her to share news of this sudden, unexpected fortune.” His smile began to spread across his face, his eyes glinting. “Your father only heard of this fortune once your sister was wed. Of course, now that he knew you also would be receiving such a fortune, he had to find a way to remove it from you.”
Henrietta shuddered. “But why?” she asked, feeling a trickle of sweat run down her back. “If I was to be wed, then surely the fortune would return to you as my husband.”
Lord Chaucer snorted, rolling his eyes. “Your grandmother was, it seems, a most disgraceful woman. She ensured that it would remain entirely in your hands for the rest of your days.” He shrugged. “If you were to die, then the money would go to some ridiculous charity or some such thing. So, I could not have you gone from this earth, else the money would disappear along with your last breath. Both your father and I have some significant debts that need to be accounted for very soon.” His face twisted with irritation. “So, another way was found.”
“And so, you thought to have me appear guilty of your murder,” Henrietta whispered, shock rushing through her. “Was that your intention?”
Lord Chaucer waved a hand, looking exasperated as though she were taking far too long to understand a simple concept. “I could not be dead now, could I, for how could I then take the money and share it with your father? No, I would allow the staff to find both myself and you, and then, in the furor that was to follow, I would hide myself away. Your father would take a hold of the situation and, given that it would appear that you had been the perpetrator, would suggest that you were quite mad and therefore have you institutionalized. Most likely, you would have been overcome with guilt and would have gone meekly, spending the rest of your days in grief and sorrow.” He sighed heavily, rubbing one hand over his eyes. “I would return to London once you had been spirited away, claim that I had been terrorized by the madness you had exhibited and that the staff had helped me escape in order to save me from what had been a very close encounter with death by your hand. I would, thereafter, be able to argue with the solicitors that the money should be given to me since I would need it for your care.” A wicked laugh traipsed from his tongue. “Of course, I would have no intention of doing any such thing, for I had an agreement to share it with your father.”
“And I would remain in this institution,” Henrietta whispered, going cold all over with the knowledge of what such a thing meant. An institution was a feared place, where many people entered but never returned. Madness, cruelty and shadows of secrecy and death surrounded them. It was not a place where she would ever wish to go.
“Why, of course,” Lord Chaucer stated, as though it was something she ought to have expected. “Have no doubt, my dear, this will be your end. I still fully intend to find a way to go through with my plans, even if it means bringing more than one life to the grave.”
Henrietta shook her head, feeling the blood drain from her face. “No,” she whispered, her fingers tightening on the candlestick. “No, I will not allow you to do such a thing!”
And with that, she slammed the candlestick down on the table and flung herself towards the door.
12
“Henrietta!”
Francis heard her fingers scrabbling at the door, heard her cry of fright and felt himse
lf grow entirely helpless. He turned the handle again and again, urging her to turn the key in the lock, until, finally, it opened a crack.
Henrietta screamed. Lord Chaucer’s voice, threatening and loud, drew near and it was all Francis could do to stop himself from throwing himself against the door. They had heard every word spoken by Lord Chaucer, realizing with horror the true depths of depravity that both Lord Chaucer and Henrietta’s father had reached.
“Henrietta!” he shouted again, hearing her shriek, a thump hitting the door hard.
Lord Wickton was at his side in a moment. “Push!” he exclaimed, leaning heavily against the door. “Push it hard, Newton. We must get her out!”
Turning the door handle again and pushing against the door hard with his shoulder, Francis felt sweat trickle down his back as it began to open just a little. Lord Chaucer’s bulk was standing in front of it, perhaps even leaning back against it, and for a small but rotund man, he was exceedingly heavy.
“I will not fail you now, Henrietta,” Francis whispered, seeing the door open a little more. “I am coming to you.”
“Go, go!” Lord Wickton’s face was set in a hard expression, his eyes fixed on the gap opening up. “Go now, Newton!”
Allowing Lord Wickton to take the strain, Francis pushed his head through the gap, finally able to see what was going on. Lord Chaucer was standing by the door, pushing back against it as hard as he could, and Henrietta was trying to scramble to her feet, a red mark already forming across her face.
Francis had never known anger like what he felt at that moment. Filled with fury, he shoved at the door until he was finally able to get inside, seeing Lord Chaucer’s face fill with anger.
“Get away from her!” Francis shouted, rushing towards Henrietta’s side. “Henrietta, are you hurt?”
“I am all right.” Her fingers clutched at his sleeve as Lord Chaucer pulled out a long, thin blade, waving it in front of them both. Francis heard Henrietta’s sob of fright, the sound lodging itself in her throat, and pushed her gently behind him.
“You will not succeed in this, Chaucer,” he stated darkly. “Henrietta will not be a pawn in this dark game. You shall not have her money. You shall not have her thrown away where no-one shall ever remember, no matter what you may think.”
Lord Chaucer chuckled, his eyes ablaze as he came a little closer. Much to Francis’ relief, he saw Lord Wickton step inside as Lord Chaucer moved away from the door. They were not to have to deal with this madman alone, then. Miss James also appeared, although Lord Wickton was hissing something towards her that she appeared to be ignoring.
“You will be disgraced, Newton. Attempting to court another man’s wife?” Lord Chaucer threw him a look, making to turn about again.
“You cannot threaten me, Chaucer,” Francis said loudly, drawing the man’s attention so that he would not see Lord Wickton and Miss James. “It is quite the other way around, I think.”
Lord Chaucer snorted. “Hardly,” he crowed, as Francis moved Henrietta away from her husband and around the dining room table. The last thing he wanted was for Henrietta to be injured in any way. “She is my wife. I have every right to treat her as I wish. For is a wife nothing more than property?”
Francis glared at him, his stomach turning over at such a comment. “A wife ought to be treated like the most precious of possessions in that case,” he replied, seeing Lord Wickton holding Miss James back from where they stood at the door. “You have done quite the opposite.”
Lord Chaucer grinned, his eyes still filled with malevolence. “Do you truly think that I will take any sort of advice from the likes of you?” he asked, waving his knife about merrily. “You may claim that you care for my wife but that is all it shall ever be. You are a troublemaker, Newton, and I intend to make sure that you have the consequences of your actions to bear once I have taken my wife back by my side and put her where she belongs.” He sneered at Francis, his lips twisting horribly. “For you have no claim to her.”
Francis felt Henrietta’s hand clutch his own, his heart swelling within him. “I love her,” he declared quietly. “I love Henrietta with my whole heart. I care for her so deeply that I cannot allow you to treat her as filth.”
Behind him, Henrietta gasped, her fingers tightening in his. Francis prayed that she felt the same, knowing that his declaration was entirely true.
“That means nothing,” Lord Chaucer laughed, shaking his head. “Although, I am glad that your love will become nothing more than a torment to you. You shall never have Henrietta in the way that you desire. Your love will return to you entirely unmet.”
“I love you also, Francis,” Henrietta whispered, forcing him to turn towards her. “Even if it is as my husband states, I wish you to know that I have never felt such joy before. My heart will never be able to release you.”
Francis closed his eyes for a moment, the truth of what she had said hitting him hard. She was still married to Lord Chaucer, and even if she did quit his house and hide herself away, he could never make her his wife. It was to be a torment like he had never known before.
“Divorce her.” He swung back to Lord Chaucer, his voice steady. “If you care nothing for her, then divorce her. Allow her the freedom you have held away from her.”
Lord Chaucer laughed, disdain written all over his face. “I hardly think the scandal would suit me,” he said, shrugging. “And besides, neither myself nor Lord Reapson would have the money that we are rather in need of!” He shrugged again, as though they were simply talking about the weather. “I intend to do just as I have always intended, in whatever way I can now think of.”
“You intend to claim that Henrietta is still, somehow, mad?” Francis asked, his voice lowering. “You state that she is the one who has lost her senses, when you went to such ridiculous lengths to attempt to get your hands on money that did not belong to you?” He saw Lord Chaucer look away, color rising in his cheeks. “You took the blood from the pantry,” Francis continued, as Lord Chaucer’s gaze settled on him again “You had your staff drug Henrietta, so that she could be easily moved to the library and made to appear as though she herself had brought your life to an end.”
Lord Chaucer’s voice was soft. “It is beneficial to have a loyal staff,” he said, sending a ripple of disgust down Francis’ spine. “Although the cook did not know I took the blood. I only used the butler and one of the maids to aid me in this task.” A small smile settled over his face, filling Francis with revulsion. “It was markedly easy to set up. Henrietta spent most of that night in the chair, whilst I made certain that everything else was in order. The butler was to walk into the library at eleven o’clock precisely, which was about the time the drug would have begun to wear off Henrietta. She would see my body, the blood soaking into the rug beneath me, and believe herself to have done the most terrible crime. Then, the butler would send for her father and Lord Reapson would appear to remove Henrietta from the house and things would have progressed from there.”
“That is what the letter spoke of,” Henrietta murmured, her voice weak and tired. “My future would be one where neither you nor my father would ever have to consider me again.”
“Lord Chaucer grinned, sending revulsion into Francis’ stomach. “You must know by now, Henrietta, that your father cares nothing for you. And the only reason I agreed to such a thing was simply because of the money that shall soon be mine. It will quite save me from ruin.”
“But what about an heir?” Francis asked, seeing a flaw in Lord Chaucer’s plan. “What about a child that would take your title? If your wife was committed to an institution, then you would not be able to produce a legitimate heir.”
Lord Chaucer shrugged. “I can very easily ensure that a lady of my own choosing is with child,” he explained, quite calmly. “I could then pass off the babe as Lady Chaucer’s and declare him to be my heir.” He snorted, waving a hand in Henrietta’s direction. “She is much too plain for my considerations. I should not want her to bring forth my
heir. I will choose another, in time.”
“You speak as though this is to continue as you have planned,” Francis replied quickly. “But it is at an end now, Chaucer. You cannot expect to find another way to bring Henrietta’s name into disrepute, to have her committed against her will. Your plans have been brought to a crashing end.”
“I can see why you would think so,” Lord Chaucer murmured, his eyes still fixed on Henrietta. “When you rescued Henrietta from the scene that had been set for her, I had no particular idea as to what to do. I had to remove the rug, the knife, and the blood, although it was quite foolish to leave it in the bottom of my wardrobe, I must admit.” He shrugged. “A small mistake, only.”
“You went into hiding to see if you and my father could come up with another way to have me do as you wished,” Henrietta said sadly. “That is why he appeared at the house.”
Lord Chaucer’s eyes flickered. “Indeed,” he stated. “But you would not return with him. It was most frustrating and, therefore, I chose to remain disappeared in the hope that I might find another way to ensure your supposed madness and guilt was made known to society—except your supposed friends simply would not give up the search for the truth.”
“The truth we have now seen and heard in its entirety,” Francis said angrily. “And you still think you can succeed?”
“Oh, but I can,” Lord Chaucer replied calmly. “You see, Henrietta, if you do not attend with me now, then I shall make it my duty to kill each and every one of your acquaintances that you see standing before you now.” His smile slid slowly across his face. “And I shall, of course, ensure that you are the one blamed for their deaths. The plan that your father and I have shall succeed, have no doubt.”
Francis felt his world begin to spin, hearing Henrietta’s ragged gasp. Lord Chaucer’s knife glittered ominously as he waved it, yet again, in Francis’ direction.
“You need not doubt me in this, Henrietta,” Lord Chaucer continued. “I have a good deal of influence and, as you have seen, my staff are more than loyal to me. I can simply say a word and they will do as I ask.” He grinned, tipping his head to the side just a little, as if he were trying to encourage Henrietta to give into his very reasonable demand. “What say you, my dear? Can you truly be content with seeing three of your friends lying in a pool of their own blood?”