Untitled

by Wendy Bayne

  We met with the family in the library and explained our plan. I sat back and watched them dissect the details, but they agreed that he shouldn’t pretend to be anyone but himself. It was just the details of his mother’s relationship to Emilie that needed to be determined. It was finally decided that Emilie should have been unaware of any relations that had survived the terror and immigrated to England. I didn’t contribute to the discussion, instead I sat there and listened, so I wouldn’t be caught out in a lie when we went for tea with the General. Every now and then, Mr Johnson would look at me as if for approval to which I would merely nod, and he would smile back.

  Mr Spencer arrived shortly after and the men all adjourned to my father’s study. Mr Spencer had made it quite clear that the ladies of the house were not invited to this meeting. I suppose he still suffered under the delusion that women could not keep a secret or that we were too delicate. I rose twice with the intention of leaving to eavesdrop, but I was foiled once by my mother and once by my Aunt Mary.

  Mother and Aunt Mary were telling Emilie about the General to prepare her for the meeting, yet they still managed to keep a close eye on me. So, we sat and reviewed what had been decided about our visit including how we would dress.

  Mr Spencer returned when the men were done to speak briefly to Aunt Mary then left. When my father entered the room, we all turned to face him. He walked across to my mother and took her hands. “It’s worse than we expected, my love. Your father is very deeply in debt, in fact, he is in danger of losing everything. Fortunately, he cannot touch your or Samuel’s inheritance from your mother and grandfather. But I’m afraid that if we don’t stop him, he will lose the Abbey. If we do stop him then he will be disgraced, a ruined man at the very least and he could possibly face criminal charges at the worst.”

  Mother looked at him with anxious eyes. “What will you do? You can’t possibly warn him, Colin, that would be wrong, and it would get you into serious trouble with Sir Thomas and the Home Office.” She shuddered. “You have to stop him, my love! I left the Abbey to make my life with you and without any expectation of ever seeing my father again. But Samuel should not have to sacrifice his inheritance and honour to keep the General out of prison. If we —if you can stop him then you need to do it by whatever means is necessary.” I saw the tears glistening in her eyes, but she smiled and kissed his cheek.

  He looked at Samuel. “Well, old man, do you think we can weather the scandal that will result?”

  My uncle was sombre when he responded “Really, Colin, do you think I care a fig about scandal. Sir Thomas might be able to cover up Father’s actual involvement for our sake if nothing else, but I don’t care. Whatever happens we’ll ride it out. At least we’ll do so on the side of the law. It won’t make us very popular in some circles but at least we’ll know that we did the right thing and for the most part we’ll be respected for it. What we must consider is that this mess could expose our work for the Crown. Unless, of course…” and he looked pointedly at Mr Johnson.

  Father didn’t notice that Uncle Samuel had stopped talking, he was staring at Mr Johnson as well who glowered back at him, then flashed him a wicked smile. Father was busy tapping his fingers on his knee deep in thought. “There’s no time to consult with Sir Thomas further but I—”

  Mr Johnson interjected interrupting his train of thought, “Excuse me, Turner, I’ve never been known for my altruism, yet it seems like a good time for me to seek gainful employment. Perhaps as an agent for the Crown, what do think? Will Sir Thomas take me on to protect you two?”

  Father looked up quickly and narrowed his eyes. “What exactly are you thinking, Miles?”

  Mr Johnson spoke softly and with conviction. “Come now, Turner, I’m not a simpleton, from the looks you and Hughes are giving me I think the possibility has already been discussed between you two. But I have my own reasons for mentioning it. I told you that as soon as my father dies I fear that my sweet brother will disown not only me but my father’s current wife and their off spring. I would like to be able to offer them some comfort and security but for that I’ll need a profession and an income.” He turned, sweeping his arm theatrically towards Mr Spencer. “Mr Spencer can vouch for my reliability and ingenuity if not my integrity.” He glanced at me before continuing with a touch of rancour in his voice, “It’s time that I looked to the future! As a bastard son, my prospects of finding a rich heiress on the marriage mart are negligible so employment is my only alternative. I know that my father will do as much as he can for me, but one can’t count on what that will be.”

  Samuel was sitting beside Emilie, observing Mr Johnson. “You would do that to preserve our anonymity, Johnson?”

  “Not for you, Hughes, though I have grown attached to your family. I am doing this for me. Someone recently observed that I must be incredibly bored with the people that I usually associate with and they were right.” He stole a glance at me and winked. Then he continued very seriously, “I admit the added benefit is that your anonymity will be protected. It never hurts for people like me to have friends in high places.” Then he brightened slightly and smiled. “Plus to my own amusement I just realised that my brother will be furious that the family bastard has a respectable position and one that he cannot influence.”

  Mr Johnson watched my father pace back and forth. “We haven’t got much time to plan anything or for me to get in touch with Sir Thomas and hear his decision. Are you sure about this, Miles?”

  He smiled looking around the room then took a deep breath. “Yes, I’m sure. However, there is one condition.”

  “What’s that?”

  “I want you to—” Then he closed his mouth looked towards me and frowned. My father frowned, and my mother squeezed his hand. Then Mr Johnson seemed to reconsider what he had been about to say. He chuckled finally saying, “I want you to get me a proper introduction to the delightful Miss Lettie.”

  My face fell, and Aunt Mary was startled, “Are you serious?”

  “Oh, yes, ma’am, I’m very serious.” He didn’t look serious or even happy…he looked sad.

  She snorted. “Well, young man, I’m not surprised given your reputation. But Miles, she is not of our class and I will not tolerate any tampering with her morals. Colin, you cannot possibly countenance his request.”

  Mr Johnson faked a shocked look, putting his hand to his chest. “Me? My dear Lady Alford, my intentions are nothing but honourable. And you’re wrong about one thing, Lady Alford, I belong to no class.” He grimaced at his own words and looked back at my father. “Very well, Turner forget, Miss Lettie, but this household has many secrets which makes for a very interesting place to live. Perhaps in the long run it might be best if I’m kept in the family so to speak.” He smiled wickedly, my mother looked at him and then at me through veiled eyes. Suddenly his eyes changed, and he had that sad, faraway look I had seen so often before.

  Mother sighed, saying, “We are an odd grouping. I just hope this works!” She glanced at me then Mr Johnson before saying, “Believe me when I say it, Mr Johnson, that if you hurt anyone in this household by your actions, I will not hesitate to kill you with my bare hands if necessary.”

  Father tried to hide a smile and Samuel choked back a laugh as everyone else just stared at my mother. Mr Johnson roused himself nodding to my mother and with a most serious expression said, “My dear Mrs Turner, I understand you completely.”

  Chapter 14

  The General

  The time finally came for our tea with the General, I was nervous but not afraid. Father and Mr Johnson were already mounted when we descended the stairs to the waiting coach. Jacob and Michael were likewise mounted behind them. A groom held Uncle Samuel’s horse, waiting for him to finish assisting Aunt Mary, Mother, Emilie and me into the carriage. Murphy was up on the carriage box with Mr Cripps, our coachman. I noticed that everyone was armed including Aunt Mary and my mother, it had become the usual practice ever since Uncle Samuel had been shot.

  We
arrived at Lord Gromley’s townhouse without incident and the door was opened promptly by a liveried footman and behind him and to everyone’s astonishment stood Mr Spencer. He smiled congenially and asked us to follow him. We walked through a marbled entry hall whose floor resembled a giant chess board, the whole space had exceedingly lofty ceilings. The walls were a cool pale green and potted palms in black, glazed urns were positioned in the centre so that sunlight could reach them from an overhead sky light. Beautiful artwork was tastefully positioned on pedestals around the periphery or hung on the walls for viewing, none of it was out of place or overwhelming. There were also three niches which contained beautiful inlaid tables, on each sat an elegant candelabra. Otherwise the entire floor was open. The only visible doorway led into what was obviously the withdrawing room. Inside was an expansive and beautifully decorated room. This was a bachelor’s home but there was a decided feminine touch in the decor. The walls were painted in a Wedgewood blue that was as pale as a summer’s sky that was reflected in the polished oak floor. There were several seating groups of pale green and cream upholstered settees and chairs arranged atop floral Aubusson carpets in shades of muted rose, blue and green. Family portraits mixed with pastoral scenes hung above the beautiful cabinets and tables arranged around the room. A beautiful pale green chase lounge was situated in front of a bank of floor to ceiling windows. The most unusual choice in the room were the pale-yellow velvet curtains that hung on either side of the windows and French doors that overlooked the garden. Above the mantel hung a huge mirror reflecting the room back, making it seem larger than it was and almost ethereal. The whole atmosphere was of a garden transported inside. Aunt Mary looked around and gasped, “Oh my, I never realised.”

  Mother looked around with a troubled expression on her face. “It’s truly beautiful. But it reminds me of something—something I saw once.” She paused again closing her eyes. “It was a painting but I can’t remember where I saw it.”

  Aunt Mary took mother’s hand and her eyes glistened. “I remember it very well, my dear, it was one of your mother’s.” She walked around taking everything in. Holding up a porcelain shepherdess, she remarked, “Even these ornaments are identical.”

  My mother’s eyes were wide with disbelief. “Perhaps she visited here, and she was inspired to paint this room.”

  Aunt Mary shook her head. “No, my dear, this home wasn’t built until after your mother died.”

  Mother licked her lips. “Then how did all this happen?”

  Behind us the door opened and closed as we stood in awe of the room. A raspy voice full of emotion answered, “It was my doing. I took the painting from the Abbey when I was there for her funeral.” Lord Gromley had just walked into the room. He looked smaller than I remembered, and his face was grey with obvious fatigue. He reached out with a shaky hand and sat down in the nearest chair and taking a deep breath, he continued, “In fact, I took almost all of her paintings and drawings with me. They have been the inspiration for most of the decor in my home. I’ve been saving them for you and your brother. And I thank God that I was able to save them from your father or he would have burned them all.”

  Lord Gromley shuddered and clenched his fists. “In fact, he was burning her things the evening after we had laid her to rest. I couldn’t sleep and went to your mother’s private sitting room to be close to her and my memories. It was there that I found him feeding her belongings into the fire. He was there with his filthy hands touching her possessions, burning her journals and paintings. I wanted to kill him that night just as he most assuredly had killed her. Instead I got him drunk, so drunk in fact that I had to call the footmen to carry him to bed. Then I packed up everything that I could, anything that reminded me of Alice or that she had cherished and sent them off to my estate. The next day your father crowed to me about how he had put her to rest once and for all so that her presence wouldn’t haunt the Abbey at every turn. He thought that he had been successful in destroying her memory, so I let him believe it. He is…was a monster. I saved them all, children, they’re here in the attics anytime you’d like to claim them…I saved everything that I could.”

  He waved his shaking hand about, taking in the entire room, his eyes glistening with tears as he looked around. “This is her vision. I used many of her drawings when I was having this house designed and decorated. But I find it difficult to spend much time here.” A half smile graced his face, but his eyes were filled with pain. “I swear at times I can hear her laughter in the gallery and her footsteps on the stairs even though she had never been here. You see I loved your mother so very deeply that she haunts me still.” Tears rolled down his cheeks as he looked at my mother. “You look so very much like her, Irene.”

  Aunt Mary went to him and kneeled at his feet with her hands on his knees, looking up at him and I saw a tear roll down her cheek. “She never stopped loving you, Alex. I know that for a fact; some of her last words to me were about you.”

  He looked at her hopefully as Mr Spencer quietly entered the room, no one took any notice but me. Lord Gromley covered her hands with his and whispered, “They were?”

  Aunt Mary nodded and took his hands. “Yes, Alex.” She smiled up at him and pressed their hands together. “She told me that she wished she’d had the courage to run away with you when you asked her. She always regretted her decision to bow to her parents’ wishes…but she begged me not to tell you. She didn’t want to hurt you anymore than she already had. I should have told you when I saw the pain you were in at the funeral, but I tried to honour her request. I wish now that I hadn’t, can you forgive me?”

  He patted her hand, rested his head back against the chair stretching out his legs like he was exhausted. “You are forgiven, Mary, and I’m glad you never told me, I don’t think I could have handled the burden of that knowledge all those years ago and not kill Richard. It was hard enough as it was.”

  He closed his eyes, smiling slightly. “He knew how I felt about Alice, I’m sure of it since we could never be in each other’s company for very long without picking a quarrel about something to do with her or the children. Just as I loved her, I hated him. I only wish that I had arrived here in time to do the deed myself.”

  Father looked up from where he had been seated, arched an eyebrow while looking directly at Mr Spencer who only nodded. My mother went to Father and reached out to touch his arm. Then she turned to look at Mr Spencer. “What do you mean do the deed?” then she shifted her gaze to Lord Gromley. “What do you mean, Lord Gromley?”

  Mr Spencer stepped forward and Father wrapped his arms around my mother. Uncle Samuel came and stood by me taking my hand. “General Sir Richard Hughes is dead, madam. When he didn’t come in for luncheon, the servants found him dead in the summer house. His throat had been slit.”

  Mother fell back into my father’s arms in shock. Aunt Mary laid her head in Lord Gromley’s lap while he placed his hand on her hair. Mr Johnson assisted Emilie to a seat then came to me pushing Samuel to go to her. It felt like someone had poured ice water down my spine. I shivered and before I realised what I was doing I said, “I want to see him. I want to know that he’s really dead.” I had no idea why, it just seemed to be profoundly important for me to know that it wasn’t a charade.

  My father assisted mother to the chase lounge then turning to me, “Lissa, I don’t think now is the appropriate time.” I frowned, and my brow furrowed, I could feel the anger starting to burn in the pit of my stomach. I wanted to scream at him, but I had no idea why.

  Mr Johnson looked down at me. “I think she’ll need to eventually, Turner, after all the man treated her abominably all her life. He is the thing in her nightmares. She should be able to look upon him and know that he can no longer have any control over her.” I was amazed. How did he know that the General had always been the main feature in my nightmares? How did he know that I needed to make sure he was dead even though I knew Mr Spencer wasn’t lying?

  Father was distracted and upset as he a
ssisted Mother to lay back on the lounge. Then he spun around and yelled, “DON’T YOU PRESUME TO THINK THAT I DON’T KNOW OR CARE ABOUT HOW THAT MAN TREATED MY DAUGHTER! Or how she feels about it! I’m the one that has had to listen to her cry out in the night since we came to London; not even sure if she would want me to check on her and offer her comfort. Before that it was her mother and uncle that did the same. When the time is right, I will make sure that she sees him. But good God man, not now…use some common sense.” Mr Johnson looked complacent and didn’t answer back.

  Father was rubbing his forehead as he kneeled by my now seated mother. I squeezed Mr Johnson’s hand to thank him then let it go and went to my parents. I leaned my hand on my father’s shoulder and he wrapped his arm around me. “I would like it very much if you would comfort me when I have a bad dream, Papa. And you’re right, we will all see the General together when the time is right.” I looked over to Mr Johnson. “Thank you for understanding, Mr Johnson.”

  He smiled at me and shook his head. “You have a remarkable daughter, Turner, I hope you appreciate that.”

  My father pulled me closer to him to kiss me on the top of my head. “I’m aware of that, Miles, I always have been.”

  Mr Spencer had been talking to Samuel and Emilie while Aunt Mary rang for tea. The universal cure all for the English was tea, it was the Englishman’s answer to everything. I smiled at her when she looked my way and nodded back as she dealt with the maid who answered her summons. She then pulled Lord Gromley from his chair by the door and sat with him on a settee by the fire, holding his hand and talking quietly to him. The man still looked ghastly, but his colour had improved somewhat.

  Mother sat up holding her head, she seemed a bit unsteady. “Oh my, I’m still a bit light headed, I’m sorry, darling. I’m afraid that the mention of what happened to father made me think of the amount of blood there would be and well I really haven’t been myself lately.”