by Abigail Agar
“I would appreciate that Your Lordship,” Mr Foster said kindly. “I’ll be praying for yours and Jules’ safety.”
Gregory smiled, “That is always a kind thing. Thank you, Mr Foster.”
Chapter 12
The first workhouse that Fredrick went to was appalling, but nothing special. No one there remembered Jules or anyone who could have resembled her. Fredrick was left feeling hopeless as he trudged towards the second workhouse on the Western side of the city.
Inside, Fredrick asked loudly of a room full of women, “Has anyone seen or talked to a Jules Kelley? She might have been wearing fine clothing. She might have told you she was a duchess or mason. It is very important that I find her.”
“How important?” asked a woman who looked like she had spent a lot of time walking the seedier parts of London.
Fredrick frowned. “Have you heard of her?”
“Depends on what you are offering,” the woman said with a tilt of her head.
Another woman, younger than the first, shouted from down towards the end of the long room, “Leave him alone, Bertha.” She leaned up and looked at Fredrick. “I spoke to this young woman who said she was a Duchess and a mason.”
Fredrick made his way over to the young woman and asked, “She was here?”
“Yes, but they took her away. I assume they took her to another house, but I don’t know,” Ruby said softly. “I hope she’s okay. She was kind.”
Fredrick nodded his head. “Do you remember how long ago it was that she was here?”
“The days kind of blend together here,” Ruby said, “but it had to be at least two days.”
Fredrick sighed. “Thank you,” he said softly. He looked at the young woman and longed to help her. He vowed that he would return once he found the Duchess. He gave the young woman a deep bow before he turned and left.
***
Gregory met up with Fredrick who told him of what he had found at the second workhouse. “That’s brilliant news,” Gregory said as he clapped his brother on the back. “That means she was alive and well two days ago at least. We might just be on the right track.”
“What about you? How did the meeting with the guild go?” Fredrick asked as they rode their horses down the street towards the nearest workhouse.
Gregory said, “It was more a meeting with just the guild leader. Apparently, after that last raid, no one was going to take chances on there being another. The guild has dispersed, but I did find out that Mr Larkin is no longer welcome in the guild for giving false evidence against guild members in return for payment.”
“Ah,” Fredrick said deviously. “So, that’s his angle. What about the three apprentices?”
Gregory shook his head. “The scoundrel just made it up apparently. According to Guild Master Foster, all of the men were released thanks to Barrister Dulock.”
“To lie about the death of children,” Fredrick scowled. “I hope we find him.”
Gregory agreed with a nod as they stopped in front of a workhouse. The outside looked so dreary that Gregory was loathed to go inside, but still, he swung down out of his saddle.
“They are worse on the inside,” Fredrick said to his brother which Gregory did not really appreciate.
Inside was dark and only lit by a few occasional candles. The overseer told Gregory that the workers were resting, but they could ask them questions if they were quick about it.
The house was longer than wide. It looked much like a large barn to Gregory only there were some tables where various items were spread.
The workers were mostly women and a few children, with some men scattered in. They sat against the walls, some sleeping and other just staring. As Gregory and Fredrick walked down the length of the workhouse they all turned to look.
Gregory called out, “We are looking for anyone with information about Jules Kelley. She may have spoken to you about being a Duchess or a mason.”
“She’s about this tall,” Fredrick held out his hand level with his chin. “She has long dark hair and dark eyes.”
Only silence met them. Gregory sighed, and they travelled further down calling out the same messages but again got no response. When they finally left, it was with sagging shoulders. As much as they had learned over the last couple of days, they still had no idea where Jules or Mr Larkin was.
The next morning they left again and searched more houses. At one house someone remembered a girl matching Jules’ description, but like every other time, Jules had left the following day, and no one had any idea where she might have gone. The overseers also seemed perplexed because there were no records of anyone going in or out on those days.
By the end of the second day of searching, Gregory was beginning to lose faith. Only Fredrick remained steadfast that they had to keep trying. The truth was that the number of workhouses was not infinite. Gregory knew that soon they would have searched them all.
“The fact is,” Fredrick said, “if they are aware that we are searching the houses, they may be moving her right back into ones that we’ve already searched, or they may have moved her altogether.”
Gregory sighed and leaned his head against his hands. “Do not speak like that, Brother. If they move her beyond the workhouses, then we have no way of knowing where they could have taken her,” Gregory said with a frown.
“I know,” Fredrick said with a slow nod of his head. “I hope they are not aware of it, but if they are powerful enough to get her into the system, then they have to have some pull in the House of Lords … If they have pull there, then they have pull enough to know everything we have done thus far.”
Gregory agreed, “That’s what I fear the most. It is someone who is very connected. I just don’t understand why the plot against you and Jules? If it is Uncle, then it would make more sense for his move to be against me. After all, he still needs to get me out of the way before he can get the mantle of Dukedom.”
“Maybe that’s what he was trying to do,” Fredrick said. “If you lost both of us, then would you really fight too much?”
Gregory thought about it and said, “I think it might make me even more determined to make sure that Uncle never set foot on St Claire land again.”
“You always were an angry man,” Fredrick said with a laugh.
With a roll of his eyes, Gregory looked over at his brother. “You certainly have changed a bit since you came home. I do think that the Duchess has been a bad influence on you,” Gregory said with a smile.
“Nonsense,” Fredrick scoffed. “She has been a wonderful influence, and I intend to repay her kindness by showing that I am not alone in my thoughts and helping you fight the good fight.”
Gregory shook his head and smiled sadly. “I fervently hope that you get the chance to tell her that in person.”
“As do I,” Fredrick said as he leaned over and grasped his brother’s hand on the desk. “Do not lose faith, Gregory. We will find her.”
***
The next morning as Gregory and Fredrick were readying to leave, there came a loud knock upon the door. To Gregory’s surprise, it was Maxwell Chapman. “Sir Chapman,” Gregory said as he waved the man inside before the doorman could do so. “Fredrick, please continue without me. I shall catch up with you after lunch,” Gregory said as he met Fredrick’s eye.
Fredrick gave Gregory a curious look but nodded and said, “Of course. Have a good day, Sir Chapman.” Fredrick placed his cap upon his head and was swiftly out the door to his waiting horse.
“Have I interrupted you?” Maxwell asked anxiously.
Gregory shook his head and motioned for Maxwell to follow him to the study. “Not at all, old friend. My brother and I were merely going out for a morning ride. Please come in.” Gregory held open the study door.
Inside, Gregory offered the man something to drink, but Maxwell refused. Gregory nodded. “The wife must still be after you about that whisky she found in your parlour,” Gregory said with a grin.
Maxwell laughed nervously. “I jus
t don’t think it appropriate.”
“Now, now,” Gregory said with forced amusement. “What can be so important that it negates a little spirit? Most things of grave importance often lead me to drink, I find.”
Maxwell bowed his head as he sat in the leather chair across from Gregory. “Please, Gregory, I beg you to listen to me. I never meant anything ill or untoward to happen,” he said with a voice that trembled from the regret in it.
Gregory sat down the brandy that he had picked up while teasing Maxwell and came to sit behind his desk. Solemnly Gregory asked, “What do you mean by that, Maxwell?”
“We have known each other a long time, have we not?” Maxwell asked. When Gregory nodded, Maxwell continued, “I still remember the first time that I visited Thornton Hall. My father was a proud man, but he did not appreciate my zeal for the law.”
“I do recall him being quite angry when he found out that you intended to take on the wig,” Gregory said quietly.
Maxwell nodded and said, “What you might not realize is that he also chose to slight me with my inheritance. He gave most of it to my younger brother whom he deemed more worthy.” Maxwell drew in a deep breath and folded his hands in his lap.
“You did not seem pitiable in your wealth,” Gregory said gently. “Was there more?”
Maxwell agreed with a flip of his hand. “So much and so little,” he said quietly. “I have debts, the kind that could disgrace my family.”
“Ah,” Gregory said softly. “I hope you come to me, not for a loan, I am most vexed at this time, and I do not even know what day it is.”
Maxwell shook his head fervently. “No. I would never ask that of a friend.” He sighed, “It is quite the opposite. I ask only your forgiveness. I am not the man you think I am. There is no pillar of righteousness within me or any guiding light. I am blown by the winds of fortune, and I am sickened by it.”
“You, noble Chapman, you are saying that you have taken bribes?” Gregory did not find this that unusual. He knew for a fact that many judges took bribes, but Maxwell seemed pitiably sorrowful over his faulty decisions. “Does this have anything to do with my uncle?”
Maxwell shook his head. “I know not of any of that. I have let others choose what I decreed, though, and for that, I am most humbled. I do not know that I should continue to sit upon that bench. I do not know that I should have such sway.”
“Seems to me that you are the right man,” Gregory said softly. “Only a righteous man would grieve so for such a wrong. You may have debts, Lord Chapman, but it is not a deficit of the heart.”
Maxwell wiped away moisture from his eyes. “I tell you that I know nothing of righteousness. Your kindness brings me only sorrow.”
“I apologize for causing you such grief, but I do feel that you need to hear that you are a good man, Maxwell. If you must prove it to yourself, then stand against those that would sway you. Do what you feel is right,” Gregory said truthfully.
Maxwell said, “I have. I let those masons go when they were to be hanged. I did not see the truth in it. You were right. There was no sense in the accusations. I was very afraid for you that you would run afoul of those who wanted things different.”
“I think perhaps I did,” Gregory said honestly. “And my wife is paying the consequence for that.”
Maxwell frowned. “Your wife? I heard from one of the Lords that your wife was guilty of adultery. Is this not the case?”
“Who said such a thing?” Gregory asked indignantly.
Maxwell held up his hands to plead mercy. “It was Boris. I thought him being your cousin that he would know. Is that not the case?”
“It is not,” Gregory said hotly. “Although I can guess where he heard the rumour from,” Gregory snarled. “If you can tell me who these men were that ordered the masons to be hanged, then I can promise you that I will do everything in my power to help you, Maxwell.”
Maxwell’s eyes brightened, but he shook his head. “I have already said more than I should. I do not want to bring danger to my family because of my loose tongue. I could not just leave it with our friendship.”
“Please, Maxwell,” Gregory begged. “If we are friends, then please tell me. It might mean the difference. It could help us find my wife.”
Gregory could see Maxwell waver, and finally, the man nodded reluctantly. “I will tell you that your cousin is one. I think he is just doing as he is told by older Lords, but he is a force to be reckoned with.”
“I will handle my cousin,” Gregory said quietly. He looked at Maxwell and said earnestly, “Thank you, old friend.”
***
Jules wore a dirty dress that had faded blue flowers on it. It hung on her loosely as its last owner was clearly more substantial than Jules. Her small frame was engulfed by the fabric of the dress, and it often got caught under her feet.
“Please sit down,” a tall man said.
Jules did not trust him. She had no idea why she was here, or where here was exactly. She had been moved from the last workhouse, only to end up in a house that seemed occupied by the tall man, a woman, and several children that came and went.
“Where am I?” Jules asked the question hesitantly. She did not really expect an answer out of the man, and after the last few experiences at the workhouses, it had taken most of her courage to simply ask the question. However, no blows came from her speaking, and she waited.
The tall man gave her a smile, “You are in a house of the Lord. We take in wayward souls and try to help them along their way. What’s your name, Child?”
“Jules St Claire,” Jules said softly. She had almost said Kelley, but then she remembered that she had indeed gotten married and that was not some delirious fever dream. No, she thought, Gregory was very real.
The tall man squinted and gave her a curious look. “That’s an odd name,” he commented but did not give Jules a chance to expand upon her surname. He continued, “We have breakfast at sunrise, and we are to bed at dusk. We believe in a good hard day’s work. You seem a fine healthy young woman, so I don’t think that employment will be hard to come by for you.”
Jules shook her head. “Can I ask why I am here? I was in a workhouse.”
“Yes, and you were transferred here last night at the request of our patron. He seemed very concerned about your well-being,” the tall man said. “I have enquired about jobs for you at several places. As soon as I have something secured, then I will let you know. For now, go give thanks that you are safe at last and wash up.”
Jules stood up as she tried to wrap her head around what the man had said. He pointed her up the stairs and told her which door to go in.
She felt like she was in a daze. Where in London was she? Jules looked out the window of her room. She could not tell where she was from the skyline that greeted her. Jules sank down onto her bed.
She refused to feel despondent. After all, the man had talked of a job. If she had a job, then she would have to leave the house, and therefore, she might be able to slip away and get back to the St Claire family home. Doubt over what David had said crept into Jules’ heart. What if Gregory really did not want anything to do with her? Had he been looking for her?
Jules went over to the bed and laid down. It felt so odd to be in a bed again, and soon enough she was asleep from the fatigue of the last few days.
***
Gregory walked up the steps to Glenwood Estate where his uncle often stayed with his cousin Boris, even though Boris was related to Gregory through his mother’s side. Family sticks together, Gregory reminded himself as he knocked on the door.
The doorman gave Gregory a curious look. “Your Grace,” the man said. “If you are looking for your uncle, he is not in residence.”
“Actually, I’m looking for the Master of the house. Is Lord Shelton in?” Gregory gave the man a smile which caused the servant to relax visibly.
The doorman stepped back and opened the door wide so that Gregory could step through. As soon as Gregory was through the do
or, the man bowed to him and said, “I shall tell him that you are here, Your Grace.”
“Very good,” Gregory said with a generous smile.
A few minutes later, and the entrance hall was filled with Boris’ roar of a laugh. “Well, what do I owe the pleasure of the Duke of Thornton visiting so much lately? Still sussing out your uncle?”
“No, no. I have quite given up on Uncle, and I am just going to presume him dead,” Gregory said with a smile.
Boris chuckled and shook his finger at Gregory. “Always with that bite to your words, Cousin. I swear that you must have been suckled on knives to get such a sharp tongue.” Boris clucked his tongue at Gregory.
“All jokes aside, Cousin, I came to see you. I heard a horrible rumour, and to my ghastly shock it was attributed to you,” Gregory said with a sad shake of his head.