Olivia had told him that the young woman suffered from a deformity, but Jake saw no immediate sign of one. What he did see was a pretty young woman with a waterfall of tawny hair, finely etched features, a smattering of freckles and intelligent turquoise eyes. She was taller than her mother yet moved with a natural elegance and grace that would make it doubly impossible for her to achieve the invisibility that he sensed she craved. Her sister, Jake concluded, must be very beautiful indeed if Jemima paled in comparison to her.
He glanced at her as she settled herself and noticed that her left hand was withered, presumably the deformity about which she was so sensitive. Jake averted his eyes but Jemima had already noticed him looking at the hand in question, which tensed into a claw as she hastily concealed it beneath the folds of her skirt. Could nothing be done for her, Jake wondered. Recent advances in medical science could surely ease her embarrassment about the minor impediment that held her back. He would task Olivia with finding out the history of her injury and what steps had been taken to rectify it. If anyone could delve with sensitivity into…well, the sensitivities of others, it was his wife. People tended to tell her their secrets, even when she would sometimes prefer not to hear them, simply because her own travails were public knowledge, thereby making her seem more sympathetic.
Jake transferred his attention to Rose. Her eyes were swollen, presumably because she had been crying constantly, and she clutched a lace-edged handkerchief in her hand. Jake recalled that she had been very pretty in her younger days. She had gloried in the attention she received, with near disastrous consequences, at least in so far as her acquaintanceship with Jake’s amoral brother was concerned. Jake also recalled that she had never been burdened with a great deal of intelligence and breezed her way through life as though it owed her a living. Rose and the missing Annabel, Jake suspected, were cut from the same cloth.
‘I understand this is now the fourth day that your daughter has been missing,’ Jake said in a brisk, business-like tone that he hoped would discourage further histrionics on Rose’s part. ‘How did she come to be parted from you?’
‘I blame Lady Farrell,’ Rose said, a vicious edge to her voice. ‘Annabel and her daughter Fiona are good friends. They came out together, you see, and took an immediate liking to one another. Well, truth be told, Miss Farrell clung to Annabel, Annabel being accustomed to attention and therefore more capable of withstanding the pressures without being overcome by nerves, you understand.’
Jake nodded, understanding all too well. He cast a brief look in Miss Aitken’s direction and saw and expression of contempt flicker across her face. Jake would be willing to wager that Miss Farrell was a plain, shy little thing, beside whom Annabel could display herself to even better advantage. She would also be praised for her compassion in taking Miss Farrell under her wing and guiding her through the minefield of her first season. Jake had never set eyes upon Annabel but, recalling her mother’s behaviour during her earlier years, was convinced that he had her measure.
‘They especially wanted to take part in Lady Barlow’s excursion to Hampstead Heath. I myself could not go because I had another engagement that I could not break.’ Jake returned his wandering attention to Rose’s account of her daughter’s disappearance. ‘If Jemima had troubled herself to accompany her sister…’ Rose cast a darkling glance over her shoulder but if Jemima saw it, it appeared to have no effect upon her. ‘But she prefers her books and refused to join the excursion.’
‘I am not my sister’s keeper, Mama.’
Rose ignored her daughter’s mild intervention. ‘It is my understanding that the party reached the heath without mishap and Lady Barlow’s servants were already there with a picnic arranged. Annabel was seen in the midst of things, until it came time to leave again, at which point she was nowhere to be found. A thorough search was conducted but she had disappeared into thin air.’
‘We have put the story about that she became separated by accident from the rest of the party, found her way home and is now in the country, recovering from a chill,’ Aitken said. ‘Lady Farrell knows the truth, of course, but since our daughter was in her care she will perpetuate that myth, thereby saving Annabel’s reputation from being savaged by the gossips.’ He ground his jaw. ‘For now, at least.’
‘How large was the party?’ Jake asked.
‘About twenty people, I believe,’ Aitken replied. ‘A dozen or so of the younger set. The rest were chaperones or friends of Lady Barlow.’
‘Were there any gentlemen in whom she took a particular interest? Anyone who was making a nuisance of himself and whom she might try to avoid?’
‘All the young men were madly in love with her,’ Rose said, pride in her tone as she touched Jake’s arm, ‘but she didn’t favour any particular one. Besides, even if she had, she knew how to behave and would not have permitted herself to be alone with any of them.’
A slight cough that Jemima covered with her right hand drew Jake’s attention to her. ‘Are you aware of any partiality on your sister’s part, Miss Aitken?’ he asked.
She looked directly at Jake and shook her head, but Jake sensed she had something to say that she would prefer not to voice in front of her mother. Another reason for Olivia to befriend her. He turned towards Aitken, who reinforced Jemima’s denial, at least in so far as the young men who had attended the excursion were concerned.
‘I can give you a list of their names,’ he said, ‘but I have no reason to suspect any of them of abducting our daughter. They are from respectable families and have all been seen going about their daily business since then. They are gentlemen and would have nothing to gain and everything to lose if they allowed passion to overcome common decency, to say nothing of the practicalities of detaining a young woman against her will.’
‘Someone must have taken her!’ Rose cried. ‘She must have wandered away from the main party in search of a moment’s reprieve. She was so much in demand, you see. She found it quite exhausting, always being the centre of attention. I warned her what to expect, having been similarly besieged when I was here age and knowing how tiring it could be.’ Rose self-consciously patted her hair. ‘Anyway, all sorts of dubious characters inhabit that heath. Really, I am surprised at Lady Barlow choosing it as the location for her picnic. However, someone has taken her and I want her back. You must help us, Jake. I implore you.’
Tears spilled down her cheeks as she again reached out to touch Jake. Aitken didn’t appear to notice, but he was a canny politician, accustomed to learning as much from people’s reactions as he did from the words that spilled from their mouths. It was more likely that he had become accustomed to his wife’s self-centred flirtatiousness over the years and didn’t allow it to concern him. It must also be evident to him that Jake was giving Rose absolutely no encouragement.
‘We will all be ruined if you do not find her, and find her soon,’ Rose wailed.
‘I will do what I can,’ Jake replied, aware that if what he had been told was the truth, he would have an uphill battle on his hands. Aitken knew that if she had been abducted for monetary gain, a ransom demand would have been received by now. If she had been taken in an effort to influence Aitken’s political reactions however, the abductors would have more patience. They would bide their time and ensure that the family was truly desperate before stating terms for her safe return. Clearly, Rose knew nothing of her husband’s suspicions about Fergus Quinn, and he was not about to enlighten her. However, it would be as good a place as any for Jake to start the investigation that he had always known on a visceral level that he would agree to undertake.
He stood ready to take his leave. ‘I will be in touch very soon,’ he said to Rose. ‘I would appreciate the list of names of those in attendance on the heath,’ he added to Aitken.
‘Of course.’ He excused himself and went to fetch it.
‘My wife has expressed a desire to renew her acquaintanceship with you, Miss Aitken,’ Jake told Jemima. She looked moment
arily surprised, presumably because she had never met Olivia. ‘A short reprieve might be just the thing to restore your spirits, if Rose can spare you for an hour or two this afternoon.’
He fixed Jemima with a significant look and she nodded, seeming to comprehend his meaning. ‘I should be honoured,’ she replied.
‘Oh, but I cannot be seen in public…’
‘Your maid always sits with you in the afternoon, Mama. You do not need to accompany me.’
Rose looked discomposed not to be the focus of Jake’s attention, or to be included in the invitation. ‘Of course you will do as you please, Jemima. You always do. If you had gone with your sister when I suggested it, we would not be…However, it does no good to repine.’
Chapter Four
Jemima had heard much about the suave Earl of Torbay over the years. She had been keen to make his acquaintance, and was reassured by his intelligent grasp of the situation. As she watched him take his leave it occurred to her that she had not detected anything in his manner to suggest that he was still in love with her mother, or ever had been. In fact, he had seemed embarrassed by Mama’s overt displays of intimacy.
Mama was right to suppose that he possessed the necessary connections and integrity to find Annabel before her disappearance became a matter of public knowledge. They could not depend upon the discretion of those who already knew of it to last indefinitely. Such a juicy en dit was bound to be passed on in the strictest of confidence sooner or later. Besides, Annabel had managed to irritate most of her fellow debutantes in one way or another—simply by being popular—and human nature was such that her rivals would glory in the destruction of her reputation.
‘Shall you remain downstairs, Mama?’ Jemima asked, more in hope than expectation. ‘It will lift your spirits, I expect, if you have a change of scenery.’
‘Nothing will lift my spirits until Annabel is safely returned to me.’
‘Well, I dare say Lord Torbay will find her, if anyone can.’
‘You should not have agreed to call upon his wife. I don’t like her.’
‘Why not? I thought it kind of her to think of me.’ Most people do not.
Mama inhaled sharply, clearly at a loss to know how to explain her dislike. ‘She was accused of murdering her first husband.’
‘But was innocent and Lord Torbay proved it. I seem to recall reading that it was a case of fratricide.’
‘Even so, I dare say she encouraged the brother to go through with it since she wanted rid of her husband in order to marry Jake.’
‘You cannot possibly know that, Mama. Apart from anything else, it implies collusion on Lord Torbay’s part.’
‘Oh, men are so easily influenced by conniving females, but I would not expect you to understand.’
‘Lord Torbay does not strike me as the type of gentleman who would have to search very far if he was in need of a beautiful wife.’
‘He wanted to marry me, you know.’
Jemima widened her eyes. ‘He proposed to you?’
‘Well no, not precisely, but one always knows when a gentleman is enamoured of one. He was too young to be considering matrimony at the time and—’
‘And his brother was heir to the earldom?’
‘What a thing to suggest, Jemima Aitken! As though I would permit such considerations to sway me.’
‘You expect Annabel to take them into account,’ Jemima replied reasonably. ‘I once heard you advising her not to make the same mistakes that you had.’
‘As always, you heard half the conversation and got the wrong idea.’
Jemima was obliged to suppress a smile. ‘I’m sure that’s what it was. Anyway,’ she added on a whim, ‘shall I ask Lady Torbay how she prevailed upon the earl to offer for her when I call upon her this afternoon?’
‘Don’t be ridiculous! If you really must go then I depend upon you to behave with decorum.’
Jemima rolled her eyes. ‘When do I not?’
‘Help me back upstairs, Jemima. All this talking has made me feel weak.’ Jemima, aware that her mother, delicate though she appeared, had the constitution of an ox and was perfectly capable of climbing the stairs unaided, dutifully took her arm. ‘I can hear your father preparing to take himself off to Westminster. How can he carry on as though nothing has happened when the welfare of our beloved girl hangs on the balance?’
‘Did you not agree that appearances must be maintained, Mama?’
‘Well yes, but he seems a little too eager to maintain them.’
Aware that her mother would not be mollified, Jemima tried another tack. ‘He feels her loss as keenly as you do. I am absolutely sure of it.’ Whereas if I was missing, it would take days for anyone to notice. ‘And he only puts on a brave face to save your feelings.’
‘Well yes, he is considerate of my delicate condition, it’s true. Even so, I declare it would take an earthquake to keep him from his duty, while I am left to suffer alone.’
Jemima had heard her mother’s protests too often to let them concern her, and had given up trying to explain to her selfish mother why Papa’s presence in the House of Commons was so vital, especially if one of his opponents was responsible for Annabel’s disappearance—a possibility that hadn’t occurred to Mama and one that Jemima was in no hurry to suggest to her.
They reached the top of the stairs with Mama still protesting about how badly she was treated. Jemima helped her to settle herself in her room and, duty done, left her in the care of her maid.
Mid-afternoon saw her delivered in her family’s carriage to the door of Lord Torbay’s rather imposing mansion. She was admitted to the house by a butler who, at first sight, seemed positively intimidating—and Jemima did not intimidate easily. However, his severe expression softened as he took Jemima’s cape, making him seem almost human.
‘Come this way, Miss Aitken. Her ladyship is expecting you.’
Jemima followed the butler into one of the most elegant drawing rooms it had ever been her pleasure to enter. She wanted to take everything in at once—the ornate chandelier, the marble fireplaces at either end of the room, the wooden panelling around the doors inlaid with gold—she didn’t know where to look first. But the exotic lady who stood to greet her claimed Jemima’s full attention. At the same time a whirlwind almost knocked her from her feet. Jemima instinctively reached for the butler’s arm and he saved her from toppling over.
‘Tom!’ Lady Torbay chided, at which point Jemima, having regained her breath, realised that the whirlwind was actually a small boy. ‘Stop being such a terror and make your apology to Miss Aitken. You scared the poor lady half out of her wits.’
The child executed a perfect bow, accompanied by a cheeky smile that he flashed at her from beneath an unruly mop of curls. ‘Girls scare easily,’ he said by way of explanation. ‘I keep forgetting that.’
‘You must excuse my son,’ Lady Torbay said. ‘He has more energy than he knows what to do with.’
‘I could take my energy to the park with nanny, Mama,’ the child suggested disingenuously. ‘I expect that would get rid of it.’
Lady Torbay shared an amused smile with Jemima. ‘Provided you promise not to climb any trees. You know it is not permitted. Besides, you always fall out of them.’
‘And make my clothes dirty.’ Tom nodded mischievously. ‘But if I didn’t have to wear clean clothes, then it wouldn’t matter.’
Lady Torbay wisely didn’t enter into a debate on the matter. Instead, she ruffled the child’s curls and set him off in the care of the nursemaid who had appeared in the doorway.
‘He exhausts me with his endless questions,’ she said, indicating the chair beside hers, which Jemima took occupation of. ‘I suppose I should feel gratified that one so young can be so inquisitive. He will make a good doctor, or lawyer—’
‘Or politician, since he is a wily negotiator already.’
‘I would not wish such a career upon him.’ Lady Torbay’s mouth gaped
open. ‘I do beg your pardon. I believe I just denigrated your father’s career.’
Jemima smiled, taking an immediate liking to the vivacious countess. ‘You have not said anything that he does not say at least once a day himself. How old is Tom? Does he have to think of a career quite yet?’
‘He’s five, and he will have to work for a living since he is my first husband’s child. Jake has given him the protection of his name and indeed Tom quite looks upon him as his papa since he can’t recall much about his own, thank goodness.’ Lady Torbay seemed thoughtful. ‘Tom could choose to be idle, I suppose, but I somehow cannot see it happening. He has too busy a brain to settle for sloth, but at least he will be in the fortunate position of being able to please himself what career he settles upon. Sebastian, on the other hand—he’s our baby son, Jake’s and mine—is his father’s heir, and will be trained to take over responsibility for the estates one day.’
‘I see.’
‘Now then, Parker will bring us some tea momentarily, and then we can enjoy a pleasant conversation. I am so very sorry about your sister but I expect Jake will get to the bottom of things. He usually does. I should know. Once he decides a wrong needs righting, there’s no stopping him. I should be grateful for that, I suppose, but sometimes I think he is more tenacious than Tom when there is something he especially wants, or a question he requires an answer to.’
‘Yes,’ Jemima said faintly, a little overwhelmed by Lady Torbay’s willingness to refer to her own troubled past when they were barely acquainted.
Tea arrived, delivered by the fearsome butler, and Lady Torbay poured for them both.
‘You manage very well,’ Lady Torbay said, watching as Jemima held a small sandwich in her withered hand. She was so surprised that she almost dropped it. ‘Sorry.’ Jemima’s hostess clapped a hand over her mouth. ‘There I go again, speaking about subjects that ought not to be aired. You must excuse me. I did not mean to offend. You will become accustomed to my outspokenness eventually, and will hopefully make allowances for it.’
Elegance and Grace Page 4