Her Saving Grace

by Catherine Winchester

  “Are you sure?”

  “Yes. I’m just distracted by the investigation, that’s all.”

  “You should take a day off,” he told her.

  “Enough time has already been lost, I cannot lose any more.”

  “One day is hardly here nor there, Mari, and as I said earlier, you can overthink a problem. Your friend is coming this afternoon and Ella soon after that. Take today off and relax. It might help you to think more clearly tomorrow.

  His words were tempting, and she did need to practice on the pianoforte at some point, so why not today?

  “He’s my father; I can't abandon this just to enjoy myself.”

  “You aren’t abandoning anything,” he assured her. “You are allowed to have your own interests and pursuits, and your father would not want you to spend your every waking moment finding his killer.”

  She knew he was right. Something else had been plaguing her.

  “Do you still have the letter from Marissa?”

  He nodded and made his way to the desk. Withdrawing a letter from a drawer, he handed it to her and left saying, “I’ll give you some time to read it.”

  Damaris broke the seal and unfolded the letter.

  Dear Mari,

  I know you must be dreadfully hurt by my withholding some of your father’s papers from you, but please know that I truly believed I was doing the right thing.

  On the last few occasions that I saw your father, he was deeply troubled, worried about secrets being leaked from his workplace. He wouldn’t tell me many details and it took a lot to even get that much information from him. The only other thing he told me, and that had me so worried, was when he said that the danger was closer than he could ever have guessed.

  He wouldn’t tell me what he meant and I only saw him once more, so he was right, the danger was close.

  I had thought that perhaps he was worrying for nothing or exaggerating his worries, but when he went missing, I knew that his fears had been very real.

  I know you must hate me and I cannot blame you, especially after how good you have been to me but please know, I wanted to tell you what I knew, truly I did but each time I tried, the words wouldn’t come. Your father loved you more than life itself and he would have gladly died to keep you safe. Whoever hurt him was still free and would have hurt you too, if you got too close to the truth.

  I didn’t read the papers he left here but I did collect them up and kept them somewhere safe. A lot of people came by to ask what I knew about Charles; the police, his bosses from the War Office, your brother and your detectives, but I didn’t know who to trust, so I didn’t tell them anything, other than that he had been out of sorts recently, which was no secret. I knew that one day, someone would come whom I could trust and I believe that man to be Lord Copley.

  I hope I am right, that he keeps you safe and that the papers help him to find your father’s killer, giving you the answers which you crave. I also hope that one day, you will find it in your heart to forgive me. I was only trying to keep you safe, as your father would have wanted.

  Fondest regards,

  Marissa

  Damaris’ eyes were wet with tears as she finished the letter. Deep down, she had known that there must be a good reason for Marissa’s deception, but she had been unwilling to hear it. Now that she knew why, she couldn’t stay angry at the other woman because Marissa was right, her father would not want her to do anything dangerous, and whoever killed her father had proved beyond a shadow of a doubt, that they were very dangerous.

  She took out some paper and began writing a response.

  ***

  Elizabeth Franklin called in the afternoon and greeted Damaris with a kiss on her cheek.

  They had tea with Annabelle and Isabelle in the rear parlour, which had a wonderful view of the manicured gardens. Eliza knew both women a little from local events and they chatted easily. Even Damaris tried her best to enter into conversation; this sort of small talk usually annoyed her but she found the opinions of these three women to be interesting, and their discussions were far broader than the usual unsubstantiated gossip.

  They first discussed some of the changes that Eliza’s husband was making on her family’s land to improve farming, then conversation moved onto a novel Annabelle had recently finished, Annals of the Parish by John Galt, which detailed Scottish country life and it’s changes over 50 years.

  Damaris remembered loving novels as a child but it only just struck her that in recent years, she hadn’t read any fiction at all. She asked if she could borrow the book and Annabelle readily agreed.

  After perhaps half an hour to satisfy etiquette, Isabelle suggested that Damaris show her friend the gardens, so that they could talk in private.

  “You look better,” Eliza told her friend as they stepped outside, foregoing a pelisse as the day was warm, but taking shawls to cover their arms from the sun.

  “Do I?” Damaris hadn’t been aware that she had ever looked bad.

  “Yes, your cheeks are already filling out a little, and you have a sort of glow about you.”

  Damaris touched her hands to her face. “It must be the country air, I don’t go out very much when I’m at home.”

  “And how are you coping with everything?”

  “I’m not sure to be honest,” she admitted. “At times I feel overwhelmed but I try to stay focused on Father and this investigation.”

  “I’m sure you must realise that tongues are wagging in town.”

  Just because no one had told her what was being said, didn’t mean that she was unaware. What with her investigation, two murders, being made Constable, her arrest of the abortionist and her adoption of a waif child, the gossips must think all their Christmases had come at once.

  “I can imagine,” she said, with a resigned sigh. “Anything I need to know?”

  “Well, the ladies of the assembly rooms,” they were the committee which oversaw membership and events held there, “are saying that they expect a June wedding between you and Lord Copley, whilst mothers everywhere are mourning the loss of your fortune for their sons.”

  “They think he has proposed?” she sounded surprised.

  “Well having seen you both at the May Day Ball, you both seemed rather smitten.”

  “Smitten! I didn’t even like him then!”

  Eliza smiled. “Does that mean you like him now?”

  Damaris blushed.

  “It’s all right if you do,” Eliza tried to reassure her friend, taking her arm. “No one expects you to remain a spinster.”

  “I’m not a spinster, I’m a widow.”

  “You are a vital young woman,” Eliza corrected. “I know you cared for William, but you don’t deserve to be locked away in some ivory tower for the rest of your life, you’re too spirited for that. Lord Copley seems far more your equal and if you do care for him, I think he would be a very good match for you.”

  Damaris didn’t want to think too much about her relationship with Nathaniel, so she none too subtly moved the conversation on.

  “Why don’t you tell me a little about Franklin?”

  Eliza smiled but seemed happy to talk about her husband and family. They had four children in all, with but a year separating them in age, and Elizabeth seemed as smitten with her children as she was her husband.

  Damaris was surprised to realise that while she did feel the occasional pang of longing for her own son, hearing about someone else’s children wasn’t nearly as painful as she might have imagined.

  They had three daughters and one son but while Franklin teased her that they still needed a ‘spare’ as well as an heir, Eliza had insisted on a break in children. She didn’t go into details about how they were achieving that, they were so in love that Damaris doubted they were sleeping separately, but she had read enough medical books in her time to have a few ideas.

  She was surprised to realise that more than envying Eliza her children, she envied her relationship with her husband more. Franklin seem
ed a truly loving and respectful husband and from everything Eliza said, they complemented one another’s characters beautifully.

  As much as she had cared for William, and he for her she believed, they didn’t have the connection that Eliza and Franklin had.

  The women had walked through the manicured rear gardens and now returned to the house, through the rose garden at the side, which was slightly less orderly and wilder.

  “Before I forget, I must tell you what people are saying about your father.”

  Damaris turned to her friend. “Oh?”

  “Yes, as much as I love you, this wasn’t just a social call. Franklin has been asking around on my behalf and speculation is rife about the constable and the criminal’s deaths.”

  Eliza never was very good at remembering names.

  “They think there is some kind of conspiracy and most people seem to be pointing the finger at Wallace Sondham. They believe that his increase in fortune must be due to criminal enterprise with them.”

  “Is there any actual proof?”

  “Not as such. Sondham has been known to enjoy the company of loose women and fighting, both of which the criminal has been linked to. Quite how this links the recent murders to your father, no one seems quite sure, other than that his body was found on Sondham’s land, but the coincidence seems too great to ignore.”

  Damaris had no concrete proof linking Smyth and O’Grady to her father’s murder either, but she too thought them connected, although she had not considered Sondham to be a suspect. Nathaniel had gone to interview him and he hadn’t been home, but that wasn’t necessarily suspicious.

  Now she wondered if there might be some truth to the speculation that Wallace Sondham’s wealth came from criminality. It wasn’t entirely outside of the realm of possibility. Then again, whilst a conspiracy between Smyth, O’Grady and Sondham was more than possible, her father hadn’t been friends with Sondham, or any of the men, so how was he connected to it?

  And this was just speculation, idle gossip of the sort she usually abhorred.

  If she was going to find the man responsible for her father’s murder, she had to keep a cool head and not convict an innocent man based on rumour.

  Still, she would see what she could find out about Wallace Sondham from reputable sources. Perhaps one of his businesses was a cover for illegal activities, and hadn’t there been speculation about him being involved with smuggling at one time?

  Yes, while innocent until proven guilty, Wallace Sondham definitely deserved closer scrutiny.

  ***

  Elizabeth took her leave soon after that, but Isabelle invited her and her husband to dinner the following week.

  As soon as Eliza had left, Damaris felt a cool chill run through her, knowing that she had to go and collect Ella now. She wasn’t frightened of the child exactly, more of the possibility that she might not be capable of loving the girl.

  If she had any thoughts of backing out however, they were soon dashed.

  “The carriage will be ready in ten minutes,” Isabelle said. “Would you like to see the nursery?”

  Damaris nodded and dumbly followed Isabelle and Annabelle upstairs.

  The nursery was part of a suite of rooms which housed the children, their nanny and governess, a play room and a school room. In the childrens’ room, the wardrobe and drawers had been filled with clothes that were good quality but simple.

  With a family in residence, these rooms would seem quite warm but unoccupied, they just seemed cold, like a hollow mockery of family life not to mention, an uncomfortable reminder of her own empty nursery back home,

  “She can't stay here alone,” Damaris said. “All she’s known is overcrowding; if we ask her to sleep alone up here, she’ll be frightened.”

  “She won’t be alone,” Annabelle assured her. “A kitchen maid has offered to sleep here with her. She can't look after her all day, so mother and I will do that, but she’s offered to spend the night here.”

  “Is she…” She wasn’t sure what she wanted to ask; what made someone a good nanny?

  “Trained?” Annabelle finished. “Well no, not exactly. She does have younger siblings though and she won’t be alone. All the servants seem thrilled by the idea of having a young one in residence again. We’ll put an advert in the newspaper obviously but it’s only a weekly publication and it will take time to sort all the replies, but I’m sure we can manage until then.”

  Damaris didn’t care much for training, she had known nothing about children but the moment she held Thomas in her arms, she knew that she would always do her best for him.

  “Is she kind?”

  Annabelle gave her a surprised look, then broke into a wide smile. “She is. Her name is Gladys and you’re more than welcome to meet her, if you’d feel happier.”

  “No, I trust your judgement.”

  “Would you like us to go with you?” Isabelle asked.

  “Probably best not to, too many new faces might frighten her. I hope you don’t mind?”

  “Of course not. Well, the carriage should be ready by now, so we’ll leave you to it.”

  Damaris thanked them and headed downstairs. The carriage was waiting at the front of the house and as the driver opened the door, she was surprised to see a hand reach out from within. Nate was inside, waiting for her and she smiled as he pulled her up.

  “You didn’t have to come,” she told him as she took her seat opposite.

  “I thought we were a team,” he answered with an easy smile.

  Damaris couldn’t help returning his smile as the carriage pulled away. She was too nervous to chat very much on the journey, but the silence wasn’t uncomfortable.

  They arrived at her father’s home to find a scene of total chaos. Lilly was in the street, arguing with a man who was refusing her entrance to the house. Mr and Mrs Higgins were arguing with a pretty blonde woman, while Emily and Lisa were trying to comfort the crying children, who all seemed to be in the street.

  Damaris jumped from the carriage before anyone could help her down and rushed towards the scene, Nate hot on her heels.

  Distressed by the scene, Ella slipped away from Lisa and ran at Damaris, who unthinkingly lowered a hand to grasp Ella’s, although she pulled the girl behind her, shielding her.

  “What is the meaning of this?” Damaris demanded, loudly enough to be heard over the various arguments. Silence reigned for a moment.

  Chapter Twenty

  “YOU!” the unknown man turned on Damaris. “These are your brats, I’m given to understand.”

  “Yes.”

  “Well get them out of my house! And take that decrepit old couple with you!”

  Damaris’ hands went to her hips and she actually seem to grow in height; were Nate in the stranger’s position, he would not court her wrath with such ease.

  “That ‘decrepit old couple’ have been looking after ‘your house’ for the past six years and without them, who knows what sort of state it would be in by now.”

  “Well it’s my house now, and I want them and your waifs and your servants gone.”

  “What are you even doing here?”

  “Why do you think? I’ve come to settle father’s estate.”

  So he was her brother, Nate surmised. Probably the elder one who lived in France, since she seemed to have a generally cordial relationship with the brother in Edinburgh.

  “First of all, the house isn’t yours until the estate is settled, which it isn’t yet and now that you mention it, the house isn’t yours at all; Father divided his estate equally among all of us.”

  “How do you know? He’s only just been found dead.”

  “Because he told me his intentions. If you had tried being civil to the man, he might have told you too.”

  “Stupid old man, he always did favour you. First he finds you a filthy rich husband and now he gives you part of my inheritance! Bloody typical!”

  Nate had heard bad language from gentlemen many times before, but never in s
uch a public setting.

  “Well perhaps if you had afforded him an iota of the respect he deserved, he might have found you a filthy rich wife!”

  The blonde woman bristled, confirming that, rich or not, she was his wife.

  “I’m the oldest son, God damn it!”

  “Really? Because right now you are acting like a spoiled child.”

  Nate had been too mesmerised by the argument to step in before, but as the stranger raised his hand to strike her, he stepped between them.

  “I wouldn’t do that if I were you.” He said, his voice cold and hard.

  The man hesitated; like most bullies, he didn’t like the idea of a fair fight.

  “What are you going to do about it?” he sneered.

  “Me? Nothing.” Nate shrugged. “But the woman you were about to strike is Constable of this parish, and I understand it’s quite a grave offence to strike an officer of the law.”

  “It is,” Damaris agreed.

  “And even if it wasn’t, you are guilty of breach of the peace. Since neither crime is a capital offence, the case would be heard at the Sessions of the Peace, and wouldn’t you know it, I am the Justice of the Peace in these parts. Having witnessed the crime myself, I would have no choice but to find you guilty, then consult with my Constable on a suitable sentence.”

  “A few days in the pillory should do it,” Damaris suggested.

  “Let’s say four days, just to be sure he learns his lesson.”

  Her brother had balled his hands into fists at his sides and was barely holding his temper in check. “I am a gentleman! You will not speak to me in that way!”

  “You are a commoner, Sir; not only do you possess no title, no gentleman would ever address a lady as you just did. Both Lady Wellesley and I are landed gentry, and we will thank you to learn your place.”

  While riling this man was pleasurable, he knew that he couldn’t push him much farther. Spittle was forming at the side of his mouth and his face was turning purple.

  Damaris clearly felt the same and she touched his shoulder to get his attention, her expression clearly asking him to stop.

  “Come on, everyone, back in side,” she said to the staff and children. The crowd that had formed to watch the altercation didn’t seem to be going anywhere however.