by Carole King
Hamilton extended his arm to his daughter. He thought it best if all three of them made the fateful announcement together. With a weariness that was not altogether unpleasant, and a sense of deep pride, he escorted Antoinette from the room. One marriage had been aborted, one had been ensured. It was not a bad day’s work for a man his age.
Chapter 11
“Antoinette,” Hamilton Fraser asserted, “you are making yourself a fool. Get up off your knees.”
“But I must find it, Daddy.” Antoinette was feverishly casting about on the floor beneath her dressing table.
“’Tis obvious the catch slipped. You will find it somewhere in the house no doubt.”
“I have looked everywhere, Daddy,” returned Antoinette, tears coursing down her cheeks. “The bracelet is nowhere to be found.”
“Get up,” ordered Fraser, beyond his patience. “It has done its work, and you must stop comporting yourself like a buttery girl who has lost her pennies.”
“That bracelet meant the world to me,” she murmured tearfully as she obediently rose.
“I know exactly what that bracelet meant to you, Antoinette,” said the father wryly. He amended his ironic tone as the girl burst into sobs anew. “Now, now, Nettie,” Hamilton consoled her. He patted her shoulder awkwardly. “Did you speak with the servants?”
“Only that grumpy Mrs. Inman,” Antoinette said with a sniff. She swiped unceremoniously at her dripping nose, and Hamilton, with an upward roll of his eyes, offered his handkerchief. “She said she would speak with the other girls.” Antoinette blew her nose noisily, and her father winced. “But, of course,” added the girl, “nobody will admit to having stolen it.”
“The bracelet was not stolen,” stated Hamilton emphatically. He glanced uncertainly at his daughter. “Why would you make such an accusation?” he asked.
“What other explanation could there be? I’ve looked everywhere. Someone has stolen it and secreted it away somewhere.”
“I can’t believe that,” Hamilton asserted, but his tone was less affirmative than he wished it to be. “We must speak with Cain and Mrs. Byron,” he said after a pause. “If there has been a theft, they must know about it.”
“I think so, too,” agreed Antoinette. Together, father and daughter made their way down to the parlor. They found Vanessa and Damien at the card table. The two looked up as Hamilton and Antoinette, dry-eyed now, entered the room.
“Where is Dr. Byron?” inquired Hamilton.
“He is in his office,” Vanessa informed them, “with Autumn,” she added with no apparent significance. “I presume they are discussing Winslow’s dire predictions regarding the state of my precarious health.”
“I must speak with both you and Dr. Byron,” stated Hamilton. Damien cringed. He pushed himself from the table and approached the hearth, wondering what new terror his father intended to inflict on this household. As Vanessa rose, he hastened to help her with her chair.
“It seems,” intoned Vanessa, “there is one crisis after another today.” Damien eyed her regretfully. “We shall finish our card game later,” she said patting the lad’s cheek. “Shall we join Cain and Autumn?” she said as she advanced past the father and daughter. They moved ceremoniously across the hall. Once admitted to the private conclave, Vanessa announced that Hamilton and Antoinette wished to make some communication. Autumn would have withdrawn, but Antoinette stopped her.
“I think Miss Thackeray should stay,” she said pointedly. “She seems, after all, to have some authority in this household.”
“I have not been in this room in years,” commented Vanessa as she seated herself in the little horn chair. She gazed about the chamber with its depictions of chaotic violence. At last her regard lifted to the portrait of her deceased husband. “You still have that hanging there, Cain,” she observed. “My, my,” she said softly, “what a handsome gentleman he was.”
“Yes, yes,” commented Fraser disinterestedly. “Handsome is as handsome does,” he observed for no apparent reason. He clamped his regard on Cain. Despite the mother’s obvious distraction, Hamilton Fraser meant to make quick business of this ugly circumstance. “Dr. Byron,” he said. “It seems there has been a theft.” Cain lifted his brows.
“You mean the bracelet, of course,” he responded. “Carrie has spread the word. But we were led to assume it had been misplaced.”
“It wasn’t misplaced,” Antoinette stated. “I have looked everywhere for it. It was stolen.” Vanessa’s eyes lowered.
“Who do you think has . . . stolen it, Antoinette?” she asked.
“I’ve no idea,” said that lady. “One of the servants, I suppose.” Vanessa looked up sharply, the steel of her gaze settling on the acid of Antoinette’s.
“What would you have us do?”
“What do you usually do in cases like this?” inquired Antoinette.
“To be quite candid, Miss Fraser,” returned Vanessa, “such a ‘case’ has never come up.”
Cain, realizing a confrontation was imminent, commented, “Our girls are the soul of honesty, and the stablemen have been with us for years.”
“Well, one of your ‘souls of honesty’ has stolen my bracelet, Cain,” said Antoinette flatly. “I would suggest a room-by-room search.”
“Oh,” put in Autumn, “but everyone would be mortified, Miss Fraser.” That lady regarded Autumn icily.
“Methinks the lady doth protest too much. Perhaps we should start with her room.”
“I don’t mind a bit if you search my room,” stated Autumn. “I protest only because the girls have done such a fine job here, and they have felt so comfortable in the house. I think it would be a shame to subject them to such humiliation.”
“Humiliation or no,” said Hamilton Fraser equably, “the bracelet must be found.”
“It was Cain’s first gift to me,” Antoinette said, pouting quite purposefully. No one missed the innuendo in her tone. Cain shifted uncomfortably as all eyes fell on him.
“It is an expensive piece, is it not, Cain?” Hamilton persisted doggedly. Cain only nodded. “Then I think it well worth the search.”
It was decided that Autumn, being both a member of the household staff and close to the family, should conduct the investigation. She put the news to the girls as respectfully as was possible with Antoinette and her father looking on dourly. Vanessa had decided she would have nothing to do with the search and went back to her card game with an apologetic Damien, and Cain remained present, but silent, throughout the most uncomfortable business. Autumn allowed the girls to empty their own purses and dresser drawers. They were forced, at Antoinette’s insistence, to unmake their beds, empty the pockets of each of their dresses, and spread out all their toiletries for inspection. After an hour’s search, only Carrie’s belongings were left to investigate. With a great deal of pride, an upraised chin, and a silent condemnation of the process that spoke louder than any verbal protest, she opened her door to the searchers. Autumn’s own disapproval was palpable, but she dutifully conducted as thorough a fine-combing as she had in the rooms of the other girls. Autumn surreptitiously squeezed Carrie’s hand as they left her room.
“I believe everyone has been searched,” said Autumn stiffly as the party stood in the entry hall.
“Except you,” Antoinette pointed out archly.
“Oh, come now,” Cain interjected, “will you search my room next—or my mother’s?”
Antoinette eyed him darkly. “How you do protect the drab little creature,” she intoned. Cain might have spoken, but Autumn held up a detaining hand.
“Miss Fraser is correct, Dr. Byron. I am, after all, a member of your staff. My assurances would mean no more to Miss Fraser and her father than those of the others.” She paused and offered a serene and general smile. “If you all wish to go on ahead, I shall meet you on the second floor. I, you see, take the back stairs.” Shoulders squared, Autumn made her way past them and headed down the hall.
Cain’s discomfort was obvio
us, and he growled quietly, “I shall take the back stairs, too.” Once on the second floor, he called to Autumn. She turned to find him standing in the gaslit glow of the archway. “I am sorry,” he said. The arrival of Antoinette and her father in the gallery made further words impossible. Autumn led them to her room and ushered them inside. Antoinette glanced about first in wonder and then in disdain.
“What a pretty room,” she said, “for a hireling.” She moved about the window-lined chamber, lifting objects and setting them down disinterestedly.
“Thank you, Miss Fraser,” Autumn responded. “I am glad you like it.” She went immediately to her dresser and began emptying the drawers. She took each of her dresses from the closet and shook them out, displaying the contents of any pockets. Dutifully she unmade her bed and, just as the other girls had, she spread out her toiletries. “Is there anything I’ve forgotten?” she asked. Her tone was without emotion, but she realized firsthand how humiliating the process had been for all the girls.
“We might check under the chair cushions,” Cain suggested disgustedly. “And when we have found nothing, let us go out into the stables and waste yet another hour or so searching the bunkhouses.”
“Now, now, Cain,” put in Hamilton Fraser, “we must be adult about this. My daughter is deeply heartbroken over her loss. We must not mock her efforts.”
“You knit, Miss Thackeray,” said Antoinette, eyeing Autumn’s work basket.
“Mayn’t I see some of your creations?” Autumn was well aware that this was most assuredly a ploy, and resignedly she moved to the basket and took it up.
“This,” she said, drawing out a length of delicate lace, “is a table cover for my mother. And this is a sweater I am—” She stopped abruptly, because suddenly at her feet, making the tiniest of sounds as it hit the carpet, was the emerald bracelet. Autumn looked up amazed. Cain’s gaze narrowed.
“Oh, my,” gasped Antoinette. She placed her hands delicately to her lips. Then stooping to retrieve her bracelet, she held it up in triumph. “We have found our thief!” Hamilton Fraser eyed Cain levelly, daring him to dispute Antoinette’s charge.
“It seems we shall not have to search the stablemen after all,” Cain said mildly.
“Dr. Byron,” Autumn protested, “you cannot think that I—”
“That is quite enough, Miss Thackeray,” he intoned. “I should like to see you immediately in my parlor.” Antoinette arched a brow, smiling, but Hamilton Fraser took her arm more roughly than was quite necessary. Her triumph was short-lived, for her father hustled her straight from the room to his own suite across the gallery. Autumn followed Cain Byron downstairs to his parlor. They hastened inside, and Autumn closed the doors behind them. She turned to face Cain Byron. He was smiling broadly.
“What is it, Dr. Byron?” she asked. “Why are you smiling?”
“Oh, Autumn,” he said, moving to her, “I suppose I am smiling at you most of all.” Autumn cocked her head.
“At me?” she asked.
“You are a staunch little wench,” he commented, taking her shoulders in his hands. “I admire you more than I can say.”
Autumn’s brows quirked. “You admire me for stealing Antoinette’s bracelet?” she asked.
“You didn’t steal that bracelet.”
“Indeed I did not, sir.”
“Antoinette’s scheme is as transparent as glass.” He gazed down at Autumn. “And you are the dearest of women. You have accepted each of the humiliations the Frasers have heaped upon you with dignity and grace. You are a wonder of a woman.” Spontaneously, he drew her to him, holding her against his chest for moments. The thunder of his heart caused her own to beat wildly. Gently, Autumn pushed against him.
“Thank you,” she said, her voice catching. She looked up at him, her gaze liquid. “I cannot thank you enough for your support of me.” She was still in the circle of his arms and knew that another moment of contact between them would result in something neither of them could control. She lowered her eyes and extracted herself from his embrace. She spent several seconds gazing into the fire, attempting to regain her composure. “I wonder why she did it?” she said softly. Cain moved to his desk and retrieved a cigar. He lit it before answering.
“She planted the bracelet because she wished to be rid of you, Autumn.”
She turned. “But why?”
“Because she knows the truth.”
“And what exactly is the truth, Dr. Byron?”
“The truth, Autumn, is that I would kill or die for you.” Cain’s expression was solemn, earnest, his voice husky with emotion.
Autumn turned abruptly back to the fire, then her gaze lifted to the imposing portrait of Cain’s father. “Tradition dies hard,” she said quietly.
“But it does die.”
Autumn shook her head slowly. “Not this day, I fear. You and Antoinette are betrothed.”
“There is something you must understand, Autumn,” said Cain. “The betrothal is a sham. Everything between Antoinette and me is false. It has been from the first. I was a lad when I met her, inexperienced and vulnerable, despite my dubious reputation hereabouts. I had never met anyone like her. I took her attentions to me, her lavish flirtation, to be love. I blame myself entirely for the misunderstanding. Antoinette didn’t fool me, Autumn, I fooled myself. I wanted love so desperately. But then I discovered, through Win’s foolish gossip, that Antoinette was lavishing those same attentions on other men. Winslow believed her behavior to be harmless fun, but I knew what she and I had been to each other, and I knew that her behavior wasn’t harmless—not to me, and probably not to the other fellows she was leading on. I suspect that Antoinette chooses her escorts most judiciously. She quite deliberately picks uninitiated lads who believe her charms are intended only for them, or hopelessly narrow-minded dupes like Winslow Beame, who cannot imagine women as anything but pure-minded, and quite bluntly, stupid and completely malleable. Either of those types are the easiest to betray.” He paused. “You may wonder why, knowing all I did, I continued my relationship with Antoinette.”
“I am not stupid, Dr. Byron,” said Autumn quietly. “I suppose I know very well why you continued the relationship. What I do not know is why you are telling me all this.”
“I am hoping,” returned Cain, “that you will begin to understand that Antoinette Fraser and I will never be man and wife. Her true nature will come out, Autumn. And when it does, I shall be free.”
“That is speculation.”
“That is a fact. How long can she maintain a false front? How long can she go on playing the part of adoring fiancée? Antoinette does not love me, Autumn, and she knows I do not love her. Eventually, she will have to admit it to the world.”
“And if that happens,” Autumn asked solemnly, “will it change anything? She may still hold you to your contract.”
“Even Antoinette Fraser,” said Cain confidently, “is not that devoid of emotion. How could she marry a man she has publicly admitted she despises?”
How, indeed, thought Autumn.
The next day, less than two weeks after his arrival, Hamilton St. John Fraser and Damien left for New York. The elder Fraser never inquired as to the outcome of the supposed theft.
“His discretion,” commented Vanessa, “to misquote the Bard, is the best part of his valor, maybe the only part,” she added. “But then, with a daughter like Antoinette, the poor old man needs to exercise a great deal of discretion.” Neither she nor anyone else in the household could imagine why Antoinette had opted to stay on for the rest of the month. “Surely she knows that, to a person, everyone in this house despises her,” Vanessa commented further.