His father spoke softly from behind him. “Ravensdale is dead. The blood is his.”
Jonathan twisted at the waist to look at the earl, who stood beside Ravensdale’s body and nodded somberly. Jonathan stroked Theodora’s cheek with one finger, willing her to wake. Her eyes fluttered and she opened them. Her gaze centered on his face, and she whispered, “Jonathan?”
“Yes, darling. Are you hurt?”
“I...I don’t think so. The gun went off, and I...Lucien, where is Lucien?” Jonathan felt his heart clench. Surely she could not be asking after him?
“He is dead.”
She closed her eyes and sighed, the breath slowly easing out of her. “Then it is finished.”
Jonathan shook her gently, worried as she stilled. “Theodora!”
Her eyes fluttered again, and she smiled. “You are alive.”
He grinned back. “Yes. And so are you.”
“I thought he had killed you.”
“Fortunately, my dear, we have established that your husband was a terrible shot.” The earl spoke from behind Jonathan, and Theodora sat up suddenly, swaying a bit with the movement.
“Your lordship, I…”
The earl chuckled. “Please save your strength for explaining this to the countess. She is most annoyed with you for disappearing. It seems she’s rather fond of you.”
Theodora blushed. “I am sorry, your lordship. I will explain to her, but then I must leave.”
Her face was flushed, and she was chewing her bottom lip. “You are not leaving, Theodora,” Jonathan said, his tone harsher than he intended.
She paled. “What?”
“I won’t make you stay, of course,” he said hurriedly. “I’m not Lucien.”
“I know.” She smiled sadly at him. “But I can’t be a cook in your mother’s household any longer, Jonathan, not after this. What would you have me do? Become a governess to Lady Julia?”
Quietly, he said, “You could marry me.”
The earl cleared his throat as Theodora simply stared. “Jonathan, give the woman some time. It has been a rather trying evening.” To Theodora he said, “For now, you must be our guest. We will sort out the rest later.” He extended his hand to her, and she grasped it and pulled herself out of Jonathan’s embrace.
“Come along, Jonathan,” he said. “We’ll need to report this to the constable, and then you’ll need to take the lady home.”
Jonathan pushed himself to his feet wearily. “Very well, Father. You are right.” He looked at Theodora. “But this conversation is not over.” She turned away, but he thought he saw the hint of a smile tugging at the corner of her lips. He helped her onto his horse and then mounted in front of her. She wrapped her arms around his waist, and rested her cheek on his shoulder.
So quietly he felt rather than heard her, she said, “Yes.”
Chapter Twenty-Two
Some hours later, after extensive questioning by police in Durham, Theodora, Jonathan, and the earl made their way back to Longley Hall. Theodora approached the building with even more trepidation than the first time she saw it. Despite the security of Jonathan’s firm body clasped in her arms as they rode, she feared what the countess would say when she knew the whole story.
Now that the rush of excitement was over, the dread of what she had just done settled into the pit of her stomach. Her husband was dead, and at her own hands, even if it wasn’t intentional. Although she was relieved she no longer needed to hide, and was overwhelmed with love for Jonathan, she could not help but grieve for the man she had once loved. A tear leaked out of her eye, and she sniffed quietly.
Jonathan clasped one of her hands and squeezed. “Are you all right?”
Theodora closed her eyes and swallowed hard, willing the tears to stay in her head. She nodded, only belatedly realizing he couldn’t see it. “I’m still a bit shaken.”
Jonathan chuckled softly. “I imagine that’s the understatement of the year. We’ll be home soon.”
She rested her cheek against his broad back and attempted to relax. She was safe. She was loved. But there were still many things that needed to be discussed before she could truly feel free.
Upon reaching the stable they dismounted, and the earl directed a stable boy to tend to the horses, who seemed as weary as Theodora felt. Jonathan swept her into his arms and strode toward the house.
She brushed her hair out of her eyes and looked up at him, amused. “I am fine, Jonathan. I assure you. You don’t need to carry me.”
“I like carrying you. And you don’t look fine.”
“You’re one to talk.” She reached up and lightly brushed a stiff, blood-soaked lock of hair off his face. “Bess and Millie will be quite terrified.”
As they approached the door at the back of the house, it opened and a man emerged with Mr. Fairfax. Having just spent the better part of three hours with the police, she recognized the man’s uniform and shuddered with exhaustion and a certain distaste. The constable stopped at the sight of the trio, his eyes widening. Fairfax was no less surprised by their appearance.
“My lords! And is that Mrs. Milsom? Whatever has happened?”
Theodora suppressed an almost uncontrollable urge to giggle. She knew if she gave in it would probably turn hysterical, so she pressed a hand over her mouth.
The constable looked them up and down and turned to Fairfax. “Perhaps my departure is a bit premature.”
The earl, catching up to them, assumed his most haughty aristocratic air. “We have just left the Durham Constabulary, my good man. There is no need for you to linger on our account. Although one might be inclined to ask what brings you to my home at this hour of the night.”
The constable bristled. Even at his full height he was at least a foot shorter than the earl, but he stood up as straight as he could, looking officious. “A woman was found dead this morning. We understand she used to be in your employ. A Miss Dove?”
Theodora gasped. “Miss Dove, dead! But how?” She had never liked the woman but certainly had never wished her dead.
“She was working as a barmaid. Bit of a come down from here, eh?”
The earl ignored this obvious fishing for additional information and continued to look down his nose at the man.
The constable shrugged. “Other patrons saw her leave the establishment with a dark-haired gentleman, a stranger. Well-dressed, a bit of a toff, they said. We think he beat and strangled her with his bare hands, after they, uh…had relations, if you’ll pardon me, miss.” The constable blushed, his pink cheeks at odds with his professional demeanor.
Theodora shivered uncontrollably. She swallowed, feeling Lucien’s hands around her own neck. Jonathan’s questioning gaze met her own, and she nodded. He gently placed her on her feet and clasped her hand, squeezing tightly. “I believe that your killer was a man named Lucien Ravensdale.”
The constable raised a single bushy eyebrow. “And just how do you know that, sir?’
“Because he was a well-dressed, dark-haired stranger in the area last night. And he had a habit of hurting women.”
“I see. Have you any idea where I might find this Ravensdale?”
“He’s dead.” Theodora’s voice was unexpectedly raspy.
The earl placed a beefy hand on her shoulder and squeezed gently. Theodora wasn’t sure whether he was comforting her or telling her to say nothing more. “Constable, your colleagues in the village can tell you what happened with Mr. Ravensdale. He was killed this evening, accidentally, in a struggle with his wife here. With the gun he used to shoot my son.”
A gasp from the doorway caused Theodora to look behind the constable, where the countess stood, all color drained from her face.
“If that will be all, constable?” The earl did not wait for a reply, hurrying to his wife. She patted him down to ensure he was unharmed before clasping him to her, tears streaming down her face.
Theodora felt cold as Jonathan left her side to talk with the constable for a few moments. She watched
them absently, replaying the events of the last several hours in her head. Conscious of a pain between her shoulder blades, she realized she’d been clenching them, possibly for hours. It was hard to believe she no longer had reason to be afraid.
The constable walked away, and Jonathan returned to her, clasping her hand in his own again. Theodora felt the tension from her shoulders ebb, almost as if it were being absorbed by Jonathan’s warm, strong touch.
Fairfax, who had been so quiet Theodora quite forgot he was there, cleared his throat. “Perhaps it would be best for everyone to come into the house. It is unseemly to carry on outside.”
Jonathan chuckled and squeezed Theodora’s hand, pulling her closer. “Fairfax, I would like you to meet Theodora Ravensdale.”
The poor man blinked in confusion. “Not Milsom?”
“No, not Milsom,” Theodora said. “I am sorry for deceiving you, Mr. Fairfax. All of you.”
“As Mrs. Ravensdale is also my fiancée, I would like you to make up a room for her, perhaps next to Julia?”
Theodora shook her head. “Don’t be ridiculous, Jonathan. There’s no need for that. I have a perfectly acceptable room.”
Jonathan turned and cupped her face in his palms. “Theodora, you are no longer a servant here. You are a guest.”
“Nevertheless, there is no need to rouse the staff to make up a room at this hour. I can certainly spend one more night in my old room.”
The countess, who finished her inspection of her husband, now bustled out into the yard to examine Jonathan and to eye Theodora suspiciously. After a quick inspection she placed her hands on her hips, a rather fierce look in her eye. “Would someone please tell me what the hell is going on? First Mrs. Milsom runs away, then my son and my husband follow her, only to come home hours later covered with blood. And let’s not forget my murdered maid.” The countess’ voice was uncharacteristically shrill, and Theodora sympathized; she was beginning to feel a bit hysterical herself.
The earl came up behind his wife and placed his arm about her waist, gently steering her back toward the house. “I will explain everything, my dear. Let’s get everyone cleaned up first, all right?”
Theodora heard the countess muttering under her breath, her protests met by the earl’s calm, quiet tone. Jonathan placed a hand at the small of Theodora’s back and led her into the house behind his parents. Theodora was grateful the kitchen was empty. She wasn’t sure she could have faced more questioning. She had no idea what time it was, but it must have been quite late. Suddenly she was unbearably tired and swayed a bit. Jonathan steadied her.
“You look like you’re about to fall over. Fairfax, perhaps a basin and a sponge for Mrs. Ravensdale? I don’t think she’ll make it through an actual bath.”
“Of course, my lord. I shall bring it up immediately.”
“Thank you,” Theodora said. She smiled wearily at the butler, who made a shallow bow and left the room. She was alone with Jonathan again, for the first time in what seemed like years.
She turned to him. He looked torn between wanting to bathe her himself and needing to collapse with exhaustion. His expression was eager, but lines of weariness seemed etched under his eyes. The dried blood on his face only made him look more vulnerable.
She cradled his dirty cheek in one palm. “You were very brave today. Did I thank you for saving my life?”
The skin around his eyes crinkled. “You had things well in hand by the time we arrived. You didn’t require saving.”
“Perhaps not. I didn’t intend to kill him.”
He sank into a chair and pulled her into his lap. “Are you sorry?”
“I am sorry for the relief that I feel. That it was necessary at all. But the only possible outcomes were his death or mine.” She rested her head on his shoulder. Had she been able to climb inside him, she would happily have done so. She felt so safe in his arms.
“I shall always be thankful that it was not yours.” He kissed her the top of her head. “Tonight, when I realized you had gone, I was terrified that I had lost you.”
She shuddered. “Let’s not even discuss how I felt when Lucien shot you. Believing that you were dead is what made me fight him—I had nothing to lose.”
He tilted her head toward him and kissed her, his lips gently brushing her own, with the promise of much more to come. For now, he pulled away, and caressed her cheek with one thumb. “I shall promise not to get myself shot again, if you promise not to run away again.”
“That sounds reasonable. I promise.” She kissed him again, breaking away only at the sound of a discreet cough behind them.
Mrs. Appleton stood there, beaming broadly. “Your room is ready, Mrs. Ravensdale.” She winked, most uncharacteristically. Theodora was so surprised she thought she must have imagined it.
She extricated herself from Jonathan’s lap. “Goodnight, Jonathan. I will see you in the morning.”
“Will you be all right?” Jonathan’s tone was soft, full of concern.
“What you really want to ask is whether I will disappear again.”
“The thought had crossed my mind, but then I remembered you promised.”
Theodora kissed his cheek. “I did. There is nowhere else I would rather be.”
She smiled, weary but happy, and followed Mrs. Appleton up the stairs.
****
Sleep was elusive. Fairfax had ignored her request to return to her old room, and now Theodora lay in the unfamiliar four-poster bed gazing out the window, trying to still her thoughts. She had spent nearly an hour telling Mrs. Appleton her story and had given her strict instructions to tell the rest of the staff so she would never be required to recount it again. As if mocking her, her brain continued to relive the events of the evening, telling the story to herself over and over again.
As she had told Jonathan, she was relieved that her ordeal was over, and that Lucien could hurt her no more. But she was heartsick as well. She had loved him once and mourned what might have been.
As the dawn started to peek over the tops of the trees, she finally admitted that she would never sleep. She dressed quickly, and hurried downstairs.
The countess’ quiet humming greeted her as she entered the kitchen. She stood in the doorway, waiting for the older woman to notice her. She did not know how she would be received, nor was she sure it was a good idea to remind the countess that she was the cook who was now planning to wed her son.
Lady Longley looked up and abruptly stopped humming. There was, as usual, flour on her hands and in her auburn hair, but her face was neutral. In the absence of the countess’ customary sunny smile, there was nothing. This alarmed Theodora more than anything else. She brushed a stray lock aside with the back of her hand, leaving a streak of flour on her cheek, then poured a cup of tea from a pot sitting on the table. The countess didn’t drink tea at this hour—Theodora was clearly expected.
“As you can see, I’ve been waiting for you.” The countess gestured to a chair at the table, and Theodora reluctantly sat. Somehow she felt like she needed to be ready to flee if this conversation didn’t go well.
“My lady, I—”
“Shh. I was quite worried about you when you disappeared yesterday.”
Was it only yesterday? “I’m so sorry—”
The countess shushed her again, and Theodora snapped her mouth closed. “I have grown fond of you, you know. I’ve enjoyed our pre-dawn chats. I knew you were hiding something—you told me as much—but I never suspected how much about you was a fabrication.”
Theodora blinked away a tear.
“I understand from Peter that your husband was a loathsome creature, and he died at your hands, in a struggle, after he shot Jonathan.” The countess swallowed, her only sign of emotion thus far.
Theodora was afraid to speak again and nodded.
“I cannot begin to imagine the horrors you suffered, but they must have been extreme indeed to induce you to lie to me all these months.”
Theodora nodded again, her t
hroat tight. The tears began to flow unimpeded.
The countess came around the table and kneeled at her feet. Theodora met her earnest gaze with her own tearful one, and the countess clasped Theodora’s hands in her own. “The fact you are crying now makes me confident that even though you were untruthful, my assessment of your good character was not inaccurate. I sense you need me to forgive you?”
“Oh, yes, please, my lady!” Theodora blurted.
The countess smiled and squeezed her hands. “I forgive you, my dear. I admit to a certain surprise you are to marry my son. I had no idea the two of you had grown close.”
Theodora wanted to crawl under the floor, but the countess’ eyes twinkled reassuringly. “Never mind. I am glad of it. You have made him whole again. Perhaps he will do the same for you.”
A sound from the doorway made both of them turn. Jonathan stood there, smiling with obvious relief. A bandage covered his temple. “I am glad you approve, Mother. Theodora is a wonderfully strong woman, is she not?”
He came to Theodora’s side and leaned down to kiss her cheek, then caressed her shoulder with one hand.
“Yes, she is. She will be a lovely addition to the family.” The countess rose and the sunny smile was back, beaming at Jonathan. “Well done.”
Jonathan laughed as Theodora released the breath she had been holding, and her shoulders relaxed. She rose and looked at her future mother-in-law. “Let’s make breakfast, shall we?”
Epilogue
Longley Hall, April 1867
Theodora sat at her dressing table in front of the mirror and secured a pendant around her neck. A brilliant sapphire Jonathan had given her when they married three months before, it sparkled in the candlelight and resembled her husband’s eyes when they darkened with desire. She felt a stirring in her belly and smiled. In the mirror, she watched Jonathan make a fifth attempt at tying his cravat. Finally she sighed in exasperation and went over to help him. “Why don’t you hire a valet, Jon? You are hopeless.”
Stirring Up the Viscount Page 18