by Laura Martin
As he was climbing the steps the front door opened and Robert saw the concerned faces of all his servants.
‘Did you find her, sir?’ Smith asked.
Wordlessly Robert shook his head.
‘I think you need to see this.’
The footman handed Robert the paper Louisa had been reading just before she had fled. He glanced at it and saw the headline, in bold letters, and immediately understood. Someone had found out about Louisa’s past and had spilled everything to the ton in the worst way possible—through the scandalous gossip pages.
‘There’s more, sir,’ Smith said gently.
Robert felt the realisation that Louisa really had gone hit him and reached out a hand to steady himself. Immediately the footman was by his side, guiding him into his study. Robert brushed him away, but gratefully took the glass of whisky Smith poured for him.
‘I’ll give you a few minutes, sir.’
Robert was left alone with the newspaper and the letter Smith had thrust into his hand before he had left the room. Taking a deep breath, he read the gossip article carefully, looking for clues as to who could have found out the details of where Louisa had spent her last few years.
Lord Fleetwood’s Ward a Lunatic!
This author was thrilled to meet Lord Fleetwood’s young ward at Lady Gillingham’s ball last night. Miss Louisa Turnhill is a delightful young lady with impeccable manners. So imagine this author’s surprise when Miss Turnhill’s background was revealed by a trusted source.
Miss Turnhill caused quite a stir when she arrived late to the Season. The official reason for her tardiness was given to be that she was in mourning for her late guardian. In fact, although it is true her guardian was recently taken from this world, this author has been able to confirm that until very recently Miss Turnhill was a resident of the Lewisham Asylum for the mentally insane. She spent just over a year as a patient at the institute.
An inside source revealed Miss Turnhill was not just incarcerated for the de rigueur complaint of melancholia either. She is reported to have suffered from mania and psychosis and was kept under physical restraint!
No wonder Lord Fleetwood seemed so keen to keep his new ward quite so close—we’re just surprised that the brooding bachelor decided to let her loose on society at all.
Robert let out a primal growl and threw the paper across the room. It was drivel. Ridiculous drivel. He couldn’t believe someone would write such hurtful things about his sweet Louisa.
He was going to find whoever had written it, and whoever the ‘trusted source’ was, and he was going to strangle them. It would be a better death than they deserved.
Robert turned his attention to the letter Louisa had received that morning. The handwriting was distinctly feminine, but Robert didn’t recognise it as any close acquaintance.
As he read through the letter his frown deepened. No wonder Louisa had run off like that. Her past had been revealed to everyone in London and twisted to make her look as though she was mad. But worse than that, and the reason Robert had suspected she had run away, was that whoever had written the letter had made it sound as though it was he who had betrayed her confidence.
Robert thought of Louisa alone and heartbroken, wandering the streets of London. Surely she would realise he would never do anything to hurt her. Surely she would realise the author of the letter was lying.
He hoped so, but Robert knew that at the moment Louisa was hurting. She had allowed herself to trust and now it was as though that trust had been torn to pieces before her eyes. Maybe when she had the chance to accept what had happened, to think about it rationally, maybe then she would realise Robert would never do anything to hurt her, but right now she was upset and betrayed.
Robert knew if he could just find her, talk to her, he would be able to make her understand that he would never do anything to hurt her. She would see how much he loved her and realise the letter contained nothing but lies.
But to do that, he first had to find her. And in a city of over a million people he had no idea where to start.
* * *
Robert knocked firmly on the imposing front door. After a couple of seconds it swung open and a footman ushered him inside.
‘Lord Fleetwood to see Lady Gillingham,’ Robert said curtly.
The footman led him through the grand hallway to a drawing room, right next door to the room where he had made love to Louisa for the first time. Robert wished they could be back there, when Louisa was safe in his arms and she believed he loved her.
‘I will inform Lady Gillingham of your presence,’ the footman said, leaving the room.
Robert paced backwards and forwards, all of his pent-up rage preventing him from sitting down. He kept glancing at the clock on the mantelpiece, watching as the seconds ticked by, ever conscious that every minute that elapsed was another minute Louisa was on her own on the streets of London.
‘Lord Fleetwood, what an unexpected surprise,’ Lady Gillingham said as she swept into the room.
‘You’re poisonous,’ Robert said without any preamble.
Lady Gillingham pretended to look shocked at his words. ‘Now, Lord Fleetwood, that’s not a very nice thing for one friend to say to another.’
‘We’re not friends,’ Robert said, ‘and we never will be. You’re an evil human being.’
‘Is this about that Turnhill girl?’
Robert felt the rage boil inside him. He couldn’t believe Lady Gillingham was standing so calmly in front of him, discussing her hateful actions as if she’d just let it slip that Louisa took sugar in her tea.
‘So you admit what you’ve done?’ Robert asked.
Lady Gillingham sighed. ‘Do we have to be so dramatic about this? It’s not as though I’ve hurt the girl.’
‘Not physically.’
‘People deserve to know who they are socialising with. We’ve invited her into our homes, put our loved ones at risk.’
‘You know she’d never harm anyone. Don’t pretend you did this for the greater good.’
Lady Gillingham smiled and stepped towards him. ‘No, I suppose you’re right. I wrote to the gossip pages for entirely selfish reasons.’
She reached up and placed a hand on Robert’s cheek. He had to stop himself from punching her. He didn’t hit women, but Lady Gillingham was testing his self-restraint today.
Instead Robert encircled her wrist with his hand, locking her in his steely grasp.
‘It’s worked, hasn’t it? I’ve got you right where I want you, here with me.’ She pressed her body close to his and Robert had to stop himself from physically shuddering at the repulsiveness of the contact.
‘Lady Gillingham, I wouldn’t be intimate with you if you were the only woman in London. You disgust me. You’re cruel and unkind and that permeates through. It makes you ugly.’
Robert pushed her wrist away from him and watched as Lady Gillingham staggered backwards as if he’d physically struck her.
‘You can’t stand the thought that someone else would be more attractive than you so you try to sabotage them. It’s petty and frankly ridiculous of a woman of your status.’ Robert wondered whether any of his words were getting through. ‘How did you find out?’
Lady Gillingham smiled and spread her arms wide. ‘Your visit to the asylum didn’t go unnoticed. A fancy carriage in that part of town is almost unheard of. After that it was child’s play getting the odious proprietor to talk.’
Of course Symes would have been eager to spread malicious gossip about his former charge.
‘Why did you do it?’
Lady Gillingham recovered some of her composure and gave him a slow, self-satisfied smile. ‘She was in my way,’ she said simply.
‘When did you become so cruel?’ Robert asked.
‘Oh, it happens to us a
ll, Lord Fleetwood. Even your precious little Miss Turnhill will do something you disapprove of one day. When she’s been sold into a loveless marriage with a man forty years older than her, she’ll be made to realise her only worth is her body, just like a common street whore. Then even when her husband dies, the only men interested in her will be the ones who think because she’s been married she’s fair game.’
Robert shook his head and refused to feel sorry for her. ‘It’s no excuse,’ he said. ‘You’ve ruined another person’s life.’
Lady Gillingham stared at him defiantly, but Robert could see her steely exterior was about to crack.
‘And people would treat you with more respect if you didn’t constantly live up to their expectations.’
She glanced down for a few seconds and Robert could see she was trying to get herself under control.
‘This is what’s going to happen,’ he said, feeling much more in control of the situation. ‘You’re going to write to whomever your contact is at the gossip pages and insist they set the ton straight.’
Lady Gillingham shook her head slowly, but Robert carried on regardless.
‘You will tell them the truth.’
‘I did tell them the truth,’ Lady Gillingham said petulantly.
‘You told them half the truth. I want it published that Louisa was wrongly imprisoned by her guardian who wanted her inheritance. She is not in the least bit mentally unwell or unstable.’
‘The damage is done now, there’s no point.’
‘There is a point. And I don’t care for your opinions, you’ll just do as I say.’
‘Why should I?’ Lady Gillingham asked, a small note of defiance left in her voice.
‘Because if you don’t I will make sure every newspaper publishes a long list of your lovers. It might be acceptable for a widow to have affairs if she is very discreet, but you’ll be hounded from society if the details are made public.’
Lady Gillingham turned white and reached out a hand to steady herself.
‘You will make sure the correction is published tomorrow, on the front page, along with an announcement that Miss Turnhill and I are engaged to be married. You will be named as the source and you will admit to having got your facts wrong.’
Robert fixed her with a steely stare before striding from the room. He knew however much she didn’t want to, Lady Gillingham would get the correction printed. Most of the damage to Louisa’s reputation would be irreparable, but it was worth trying to salvage what he could. And, Robert was hoping Louisa might see the announcement herself and realise it had all been an awful mistake and that he loved her with all he had.
Chapter Thirty-One
Louisa had passed the last few hours in a daze, wandering without any set direction or destination in mind. She knew her clothes set her apart from many of the Londoners going about their daily lives. She stood out and as the day wore on Louisa realised that wasn’t necessarily a good thing.
She glanced around her, aware for the first time in hours of her surroundings. She wasn’t in the reputable part of London anymore. At some point she had crossed the river and with it the invisible divide between the rich and poor.
This is where I belong, Louisa thought, looking at the grimy buildings and depressing facades. The people were dirtier, too, the dirt ingrained in their faces and the strains of living in poverty evident in the premature wrinkles on their skin.
‘Spare some change for a poor old woman.’ A wrinkled crone grabbed hold of Louisa’s arm and pulled her closer.
Louisa shrugged the woman off. ‘I’m sorry,’ she said, desperate to get away. ‘I don’t have any money.’
It was true, she realised. In her haste to get out of Robert’s house, she had left without taking anything of use with her. She didn’t have any money. She didn’t even have a shawl or wrap, nothing to keep her warm as the evening drew in.
Go back, the small voice in her head told her.
Louisa stumbled onwards, wondering if she was being stupid. She knew how dangerous it was for a young woman to be on her own in London, but she also knew she couldn’t go back, not yet. She had to get some things straight in her head before she could even consider going back to Robert.
‘What’s a pretty lady like you doing in a place like this?’ a soft voice said into her ear.
Louisa jumped and pulled away, but a restraining hand was placed on her arm.
‘Let go of me,’ she said, her voice coming out in a strangled whisper.
‘He asked you a question. Would be rude not to answer, little miss.’
Another man appeared on her right side and gripped hold of her sleeve.
‘Just keep your mouth shut and don’t make any noise. You’re coming with us.’
Louisa glanced frantically around, trying to catch someone’s eye. The street was crowded, but everyone was taking pains to avoid eye contact.
‘Let’s go,’ her first assailant growled.
Louisa felt something sharp pressing against her ribcage and nearly let out a scream when she realised it must be a knife.
‘Remember, don’t you go making any fuss and it’ll all turn out better for you.’
Louisa doubted it. She wasn’t so naive she didn’t realise as soon as she allowed herself to be led away from the relative safety of the crowded main street she was as good as dead.
‘What do you want?’ she asked, trying to keep the tremor from her voice.
‘Just a little of what you’ve got.’
Louisa took a deep breath. She knew she had to do something, but her heart was already pounding with fear. She made to step forwards, as if she were complying with their request. Trying to forget about the knife that was pressed up against her flank, she told herself to be brave.
‘That’s it, nice and slow.’
Not allowing herself to hesitate Louisa spun suddenly, throwing her body away from the first of her assailants and his knife. She barrelled into a middle-aged woman and bounced off her again. At the same time she let out an ear-piercing scream, knowing that the more attention she could attract the better.
Her two assailants froze. Louisa took advantage of their hesitation and shouted at the top of her voice, ‘Stay away from me.’
The second of her attackers stepped towards her menacingly and for a second Louisa wondered whether her actions had just made things worse. He was nearly upon her when the first man reached out and grabbed him by the sleeve. He shook his head, slipped the knife up his sleeve and melted into the crowd. The second man hesitated, torn between following his comrade and finishing the job they’d set out to do.
After an agonising few seconds he turned and ran off down the street, darting round a corner and disappearing from view.
Louisa felt her heart pound in her chest and her breathing became shallow. Her hands started to tremble as she realised what a close call it had been.
Hurriedly she started to walk down the street, wanting to put as much distance between her and her assailants as possible.
The light was starting to fade and Louisa knew it would be dangerous to stay out in the open all night on her own. She wanted to go back to Robert, to safety, but she knew she had to figure out what she was going to say to him first.
She glanced around at her surroundings as she walked and her gaze fell on a grimy building with a short, stubby steeple. She almost cried with relief. A church could offer her a few hours’ sanctuary from the dangers of the streets.
Louisa tried the door and was relieved when it swung open, letting her inside. She entered cautiously, allowing her eyes to adjust to the darkness before closing the door behind her. The building was empty, but a few candles flickered near the altar and Louisa quietly crept through the church and took a seat on a pew. She bent her head forward and rested it against the wood of the pew in
front.
‘Do you seek sanctuary?’ a soft voice asked when she had been sitting there for a few minutes.
Louisa jumped and sat up straight. ‘I’m sorry,’ she said, starting to stand.
‘No, please, sit, I didn’t mean to startle you.’
Louisa looked up into the friendly face of the priest.
‘This church is a place for quiet contemplation. You take all the time you need.’
Louisa smiled her thanks and watched as the priest walked away from her. She had a lot of thinking to do and at least she now felt safe to do it.
‘What should I do, Mama?’ Louisa whispered into the silent church.
She knew she wouldn’t get a reply, but she hoped her parents were somewhere out there, looking out for her.
She shouldn’t have run away, she knew that much. It was a cowardly reaction and hadn’t solved anything. She just hadn’t been able to bear the thought of Robert betraying her, of his telling a lover about her past. She hadn’t trusted anyone for such a long time and she had trusted Robert, let him in through her protective barriers. The idea of him betraying that trust had been heartbreaking.
But now she thought about it, would Robert really betray her? He was a good man, she knew that. And since rescuing her from the asylum he had always tried to protect her. He might have been a little slow off the mark admitting he loved her, but he’d never done anything to make her mistrust him.
She thought about the letter. At the time when she’d read it, she’d been so upset by the content, by the fact her secret was out, she hadn’t stopped to analyse what other possible motive the writer could have. It had been wrong of her to believe this anonymous letter writer over Robert.
Louisa thought back to something her mother had told her a few months before she’d died. ‘Trust your heart and your instincts,’ she’d told Louisa. ‘They’re rarely wrong.’