‘Who?’ Jemima asked sharply. ‘Did you see who it was? Did Quinn?’
‘No, it all happened too fast. There were two men watching us from behind a thicket, it later transpired. I did not see them myself. I was…preoccupied. Poor Fergus has enemies everywhere, you see. People who are jealous of his success, of the selfless efforts he is making on behalf of the Irish, and who have their own reasons for wanting him not to succeed. That is another reason why we can’t make our engagement public,’ she said with a pout. ‘He worries that people will try to get to him through me.’
Annabel’s face glowed with misplaced pride. God, how easy it must have been for a man of Quinn’s ilk to manipulate her. Jemima squeezed the ball she held in her left hand and briefly acknowledged that Ros had manipulated her with equal complacency the previous evening. But that was not the same thing at all, since his motives weren’t political.
‘Anyway, Fergus bravely fought off the man who had grabbed me. He had his own people close by, but he had told them to keep their distance because he wanted to be alone with me. He whistled to them and they chased the others away. But by then the damage was done. They had seen Fergus and me together and they couldn’t possibly have thought that we were discussing the weather.’ Another girlish giggle. ‘So he said there was no help for it. I would have to go with him, otherwise I wouldn’t be safe.’
‘So you went. Just like that.’ Jemima shook her head at her sister’s naivety, her selfishness. ‘Did it not occur to you that Lady Barlow would have no idea what had happened to you and that people would waste hours of their time conducting a search? That Mama and Papa would be frantic with worry?’
‘Well of course it did, but it was not my fault.’
‘Nothing ever is,’ Jemima said, rolling her eyes.
Annabel took immediate offence, a sure sign that she was recovering. ‘Do you want to hear this or not?’
‘Where did he take you? Who else was there?’
‘He took me to a house in Highgate.’
‘Highgate? Highgate Village is on the edge of Hampstead Heath.’ Jemima fixed her sister with a suspicious scowl. ‘He just happened to have lodgings there?’
‘Evidently. He said he would get word to Papa to let him know I was safe.’
‘Use your sense, Annabel. Papa would hardly think you were safe with his political enemy.’
‘I don’t know how he intended to do it, but I trusted him when he said that he had attended to the matter and that I wasn’t to worry. He would take care of everything.’
Jemima widened her eyes. She had imagined there was nothing her self-centred sister could do that would surprise her anymore, yet she had managed it. ‘And you believed him?’ she asked. ‘You didn’t ask if you could send a note of reassurance to our mother?’
‘He said it would be safe for me to go home in a day or two, but that it was better not to write because I couldn’t risk telling them where I was. I wanted to, of course, if only because I had nothing to wear.’ That Jemima could well believe. ‘But I also wanted to be with Fergus. He was so kind, so loving, but he also had so many other responsibilities that I didn’t see nearly as much of him as I would have liked.’ Her expression turned petulant. ‘I was very bored most of the time because I wasn’t allowed to go out. It wasn’t safe for me to be seen, you see. Besides, what is there to do in Highgate?’
‘Were there other people in the house?’
‘People came and went all the time, but I didn’t see anyone except a little maid who brought us food and things that I needed. I had to remain upstairs in a parlour, for my own safety. Fergus had meetings but he conducted them downstairs, or went out.’
‘You didn’t venture downstairs when you were alone?’
‘I was never alone. There was always someone in the house to guard me. Fergus said I was too precious for him to risk leaving me unprotected.’ Jemima didn’t doubt that was true, but not for the reasons that Annabel chose to believe. ‘That is why I was locked in.’
Jemima widened her eyes. ‘He locked you in?’
‘Fergus said I was too beautiful for him to be able to trust his guards to control themselves when they were anywhere near me.’ Annabel’s face glowed. It didn’t seem to have occurred to her that the key would have been on the outside of the door and the guards could easily have let themselves in if they felt so inclined. Jemima decided not to point that fact out to her sister and shatter her illusions. ‘He is so very caring.’ A serene expression graced her lovely features. ‘When we marry and move to Boston I will be the envy of every woman we meet.’
Jemima nodded, thinking that at least Annabel believed the lies she had been fed by a convincing and ruthless man. And in truth, who was Jemima to judge her? She had allowed Ros to kiss her and if they had been in a more secluded location, assured of privacy, who knows where it might have led? Oh yes, Jemima understood temptation now, which made it easier for her to see matters from Annabel’s perspective.
‘How did you leave Highgate?’
Annabel’s eyes clouded. ‘I have no idea. I don’t recall leaving. The end is all a little hazy. I felt tired and unwell a lot of time and slept a lot. The days are a blur.’ She frowned with the effort of recollection. ‘I remember being in Highgate, Fergus had been gone all day but came back with champagne, just as he did every night. We drank it together and ate oysters. He said I would be leaving and…and I don’t remember.’ She threw up her hands. ‘I had a headache, I think, and Fergus told me to go to bed.’
‘Did he…did he go to bed with you?’
‘No, of course not!’ Annabel looked outraged. ‘What do you take me for?’
You really don’t want to know. ‘The two of you were living together, you planned to marry so…’
‘Fergus used to lie on top of the covers, stroking my hair until I fell asleep. He said he wanted to do things right, that he would resist temptation and wait for our wedding night.’
Jemima swallowed, no longer able to postpone pointing out the terrible truth to her blindly trusting sister. ‘Very noble of him, but that isn’t what happened, is it? You were found in Lord Glynde’s rooms, close to death. If he had been later coming home, you would have been beyond saving.’
Annabel looked totally bewildered. ‘I don’t understand. How did I get there?’
‘We hoped you would recall. Clearly you do not. You were drugged, I’m afraid, poisoned.’
Annabel gasped. ‘No!’
‘That was why you had headaches and felt tired all the time. Arsenic was fed to you over a course of several days, probably in the champagne.’
‘I don’t believe you! You’re jealous.’
Jemima wanted to point out the obvious flaw in that accusation but could see that her sister was struggling to deny the truth and so resisted the temptation.
‘Ask the doctor when he visits later if you doubt me. You were poisoned and left to die in Lord Glynde’s rooms.’
‘Then someone must have got past Fergus’s guards and put me there.’
‘How did they know where to find you?’
‘How am I supposed to know that?’ Tears rolled down Annabel’s cheeks. ‘I already told you. He has enemies everywhere. They were probably watching the house.’
‘But you did not go out. How did they know you were in it?’
‘Perhaps they did not, but they knew that Fergus was. Then they found me and…well, you’re the clever one. You work it out.’
‘They left you in Lord Glynde’s rooms because they wanted to blackmail his father into giving up his efforts to help his Irish tenants,’ Jemima said. ‘Quinn’s enemies will be supporters of the government who want to see the tenants help themselves, so tell me why they would do that?’
‘They must have their reasons.’ Annabel stubbornly refused to believe that Quinn had left her for dead. Jemima took her hand and felt immense sympathy for her, closer to her at that moment than she had been for years.
‘Annabel, there is more you should know.’ She swallowed and somehow found the strength to tell her sister what she probably already know, albeit on a visceral level, but refused to acknowledge. ‘Quinn did have his way with you, darling.’
‘What?’ Annabel looked furious, astounded—her beauty married by her spiteful expression. ‘That is what you would like to think. You would like nothing better than to see me diminished in Papa’s eyes.’
‘I am not that petty,’ Jemima sighed. ‘Your thighs are bruised. Have you not noticed?’
‘You are imagining things. Hoping what you say is true because you want to see my reputation ruined.’ Annabel pulled back the covers and lifted her nightgown. ‘See for yourself. Then you can apologise. There is…’ Annabel glanced down, saw the colourful bruises forming on the soft skin at the apex of her legs and let out a startled oath. ‘No, it cannot be. He would not—’
‘The doctor will be able to confirm it.’
‘I don’t want to know. No one must know.’ Tears streamed down Annabel’s face, emotion and self-pity rendering her almost incoherent. ‘Fergus didn’t do this. He wouldn’t. He was so very respectful. Whoever took me from that house and left me in Lord Glynde’s rooms must be responsible. Oh lud, what am I to do? You must help me, Jemima. My whole life is ruined.’
Annabel held a handkerchief to her eyes and sobbed noisily. Jemima patted her shoulder and waited for the worst of the storm to subside. This was not one of the tantrums Annabel customarily threw when she didn’t get her way. This was the realisation that she had ruined her sparkling future. She probably believed that Quinn hadn’t violated her because that was what she wanted to think. But she must also realise that the truth couldn’t be kept from him. If Annabel really believed that he hadn’t touched her then she probably also feared that he would withdraw from the fictional engagement as soon as he learned of her predicament.
Jemima wasn’t about to tell her that her survival left him with no option but to marry her, if he wanted to see his political ambitions through to fruition. However, he had finally made an error. He could easily have persuaded Annabel to anticipate her wedding vows, but had pretended to be too gentlemanly and had only given way to temptation when she was semi-conscious due to the poison she had ingested. If she was to die, what did it matter if he had a little fun with her first? She had not died, but Quinn could easily convince her that he knew nothing of her situation, that his enemies were culpable, and generously offer to marry her anyway. But if they—her father and Ros—pretended that Annabel was safe and well, Quinn would lose his bargaining tool.
It was vital that Annabel be kept well away from him and not given the opportunity to defy her father and marry him. But that meant he would get away with what he had done, which did not sit comfortably with Jemima. There had to be a way to have the final word.
‘Does Papa know?’ Annabel asked between sobs.
‘Yes.’ There seemed no point in pretending otherwise. Annabel must finally take responsibility for her actions.
‘It must have been Lord Glynde,’ Annabel said, recovering both her composure and her connivance with commendable speed. ‘He pretended to ignore me at Mama’s soiree but I could see that he admired me and was too shy to admit it.’
Jemima actually liked Annabel better when she showed her true colours. ‘So, let me see if I have got this straight. He somehow managed for you to be out of your senses, at death’s door in that house in Highgate, then took you from there to his rooms, stole your virtue and then pretended to find you there.’
‘Well, I don’t know how he did it, but he must have managed it somehow.’ She flapped a hand. ‘I don’t expect you to believe me, but some men will move heaven and earth to satisfy their lust.’
‘You’re right. You are much better qualified to understand such matters.’
Annabel bridled. ‘That was uncalled for.’
‘I remember you sulking at that soiree because Lord Glynde didn’t look at you.’
Annabel bridled. ‘I was not sulking. I do not sulk.’
‘Of course you don’t,’ Jemima replied, rolling her eyes. ‘If you were already secretly engaged to Quinn, why were you attempting to attract the interest of another man and why should it matter to you if you did not succeed?’
‘Fergus said we had to keep up appearances,’ Annabel said defensively.
‘I am perfectly sure that he did.’ Jemima reminded herself that Annabel was still weak, and coming to terms with the full extent of her stupidity, so tried to make allowances for her. ‘What can you tell me about the house in Highgate Village?’ she asked.
‘Nothing,’ Annabel replied sulkily. ‘It was just a house.’
‘What could you see from your window?’
Annabel lifted one shoulder. ‘A quiet street full of dull people. Hampstead Heath was visible in the distance.’
It would be, Jemima knew. Highgate was close to the heath, which implied that the house had been taken by Quinn only after he knew that Annabel intended to join Lady Barlow’s excursion. The abduction had been carefully planned and, Jemima would wager, the house had long since been vacated. It would lend them no clues now.
‘What happens now?’ Annabel asked in a weak voice. ‘I want to go home.’
‘Not yet. The doctor will come again this morning, but Papa will decide when you can be moved.’
‘I want to see Fergus,’ she cried.
‘Oh, Annabel, surely you can see that will not be possible. You and he have already done enough damage.’
‘He will be worried, wondering where I am.’
‘Did you not hear a word I said?’ Jemima shook her head, her patience almost exhausted. ‘I’m sorry, Annabel, but you will have to do as Papa says for now.’
‘You are enjoying this!’ Annabel cried spitefully.
Jemima was too weary to argue, or to point out that no one could blame her if she was. Thankfully the door opened to admit Olivia, who smiled to see Annabel sitting up, albeit with tears staining her eyes.
‘Good morning, Jemima,’ she said. ‘Hello, Miss Aitken. How are you feeling?’
‘A little better, thank you, Lady Torbay,’ Annabel said, her petulance replaced with the sweetly innocent smile Annabel customarily charmed the world with. ‘I am sorry if I have inconvenienced you.’
‘Not in the least. The doctor has just arrived. Shall I send him up?’
‘I don’t want to see him!’
‘If you would,’ Jemima said at the same time. ‘Don’t be difficult, Annabel,’ she added. ‘The doctor is a busy man. You are fortunate to be beneath his care.’
Annabel huffed and looked away.
Jemima insisted upon remaining whilst Annabel was examined. He declared it necessary for her to remain in bed for another day but couldn’t see that any lasting harm had been done to her—at least not by the arsenic.
‘You were very fortunate, young lady,’ he said, packing up his bag.
‘Papa will be here soon,’ Jemima said when the doctor left them. Typically, Annabel had not asked him to confirm her worst fears and Jemima thought it pointless to insist upon such an embarrassing examination being performed. All they could do now was to wait and hope that there was no lasting evidence of Annabel’s indiscretion.
‘Talk to him for me,’ Annabel pleaded, falling back on her pillows and closing her eyes. ‘Explain that what happened was no fault of mine. Make him see reason. He listens to you. I have to see Fergus, I simply have to.’
Jemima stood and promised to do what she could to lessen their father’s anger. She refrained from telling Annabel that Quinn would be in the house that evening and, somehow or other, the matter of his culpability would be proven once and for all before Olivia’s party came to an end.
Chapter Fifteen
Ros arrived at Grosvenor Square at the same time as Aitken, and the two men were admitted to the house by Parker.
‘Doctor’s with Miss Aitken
right now,’ he told them as he showed them into the drawing room, where Jake awaited them. Aitken seemed withdrawn and asked no questions at all about either of his daughters. It was Jake who enlightened them on that score.
‘Miss Aitken is, I am told, awake and alert. Her sister was with her for some considerable time this morning.’
Ros nodded, hopeful that Jemima would have uncovered the truth. A momentary lull in the awkward conversation was broken by the appearance of Doctor Sawyer. He gave them bland reassurances about Annabel’s condition, diplomatically saying nothing at all about the loss of her virtue.
‘She will be herself again in a day or two,’ he said. ‘She is a very lucky young woman.’
He took his leave and shortly thereafter Lady Torbay and Jemima joined them.
‘Are you not going up to see Annabel, Papa?’ Jemima asked.
‘In due course. I hear you and she have been closeted together for some time. I would prefer to hear what she told you before confronting her.’
Jemima took a seat and related all that Annabel had said, not seeming to hold anything back, although she too avoided the question of her sister having been bedded by the rogue.
‘At least she thought she was unofficially engaged,’ she finished by saying, ‘and did not intend to elope with Quinn.’
‘The attack that obliged her to flee the heath was cleared staged,’ Ros said.
‘Clearly,’ Jake agreed with a grim nod. ‘Quinn taking a house so close to the heath eradicates any doubt, since we already know that his regular lodgings are in Soho.’
‘Annabel doesn’t remember anything about the house,’ Jemima said, ‘but I dare say they have quit it anyway, so it makes no odds.’
‘What now?’ Ros asked the question and everyone turned towards Aitken, waiting for him to answer it.
‘Don’t see what we can do,’ Aitken said with a shrug. ‘If we confront Quinn he will admit that he took Annabel to his house to protect her and swear night is day that he sent word to me to that effect. I cannot prove that he did not. Messages go astray all the time. He will also claim to be in love with Annabel and offer to marry her, because he knows full well that cannot be permitted to happen.’
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