“Rebecca, there you are,” Gloria called from the doorway. “I heard what happened. Are you all right?”
Her friend rushed in, ignoring Sylvia’s presence. As if knowing she wouldn’t be welcome, Sylvia moved to the other side of the room. Rebecca felt grateful her friend hadn’t left. Her presence still had a calming effect.
“I’m better.” Rebecca scooted over to accommodate Gloria.
“Of course you’re not.” Gloria pulled Rebecca into her arms. “I heard about the baby. Don’t fret. I have an entire day planned for us. You won’t even have time to think about anything.”
Pulling herself out of Gloria’s grasp, Rebecca studied her friend’s face. Obviously her concern brought this about, but Rebecca didn’t feel well enough to spend the day doing anything that required much attention.
“May I ask what you have planned?”
“No.” Gloria stood, pulling Rebecca to her feet. “My carriage is waiting for us. We’ll just tell Charles not to expect us back until after dinner.”
Before Rebecca could respond, Gloria dragged her toward the door. Quick as lightning, Sylvia arrived there and blocked their path.
“I’m sorry, but a day out is impossible.”
“Don’t be absurd. It’s exactly what she needs,” Gloria argued.
Sylvia crossed her arms and glared. The sight made Rebecca want to flinch. Gloria, however, seemed unfazed by the anger boiling in the other woman’s eyes.
“What she needs is to stay in bed.”
“You have no power over us. And I have it on good authority that Charles will side with me. Besides, you are no longer wanted here.”
That brought even more fire to Sylvia’s face. She seemed to grow before then.
“Ladies.” Rebecca stood between her two friends before matters could escalate. “I appreciate your concern. However, right now I don’t want to go out, nor do I wish to be in bed. I’d like a cup of tea. You may join me if you feel inclined.”
Without waiting for a response, Rebecca left the room in search of Mrs. Callie. Either they would join her for tea or go their separate ways. She didn’t care, as long as they stopped arguing.
Rebecca tried to put it all from her mind, but as she walked the hallway by herself, anxiety gripped her. A loud banging behind her made her jump and twist around.
The downstairs maid smiled apologetically as she bent down to pick up the cleaning supplies that had fallen from her already overfilled arms.
Another scratching sound came from in front of her, and she almost plowed into Paul as she glanced around. His sturdy hands caught her shoulders, and he steadied her.
She pulled away and leveled a frightened gaze on his. Concern, no malicious intent, shown on his face. Irritated with herself, she hurried on, skipping the tea and heading directly for her bedchamber.
How could she live when everything around her posed a threat? She couldn’t survive like this. As she climbed in her bed, she pulled her legs to her chest. She needed Charles’s reassuring arms right now.
If only he weren’t a suspect on her list as well.
Charles’s boot crunched a singed log into pieces as he walked through the remnants of his storage shed. Anger pierced through him as he surveyed the half burnt, half waterlogged supplies. He picked up a pair of pruning shears and tested them, but the wooden handle came apart in his hand.
Who would do something like this? Accidents didn’t begin a fire on an overcast day, especially when there was no reason to bring fire into the shed.
“Did you see anything?” he asked his head gardener.
Marlowe scratched his balding head. “No, my lord. We was out in the garden. Didn’t even hear nothing ‘til it was already ablaze.”
“All your hands were working? How could none of them be near this area?” Charles eyed the man suspiciously.
Considering his age, Marlowe couldn’t have been responsible, but he could have been an accomplice.
“My boys was with me. We began planting a new row for her ladyship. After her accident, we was hoping to make her smile.”
Immediately Charles’s opinion of the man softened. Rebecca needed people like this around her. Although Charles had tried to reassure her, he noticed how she scampered around like a mouse in a room of cats. He only wished to make her safe, but how could he with madmen starting fires on his own property?
“Do you have any idea who did this? Or why?”
Marlowe looked past him, his eyes slightly unfocused. “Nah. It’s just one of the goings on here. Ain’t nobody that’s safe from the hate.”
“What are you talking about? I haven’t heard about any other problems.”
“Mr. Josiah knows more than us. He deals with it all.”
His steward? An uneasy feeling crept over Charles. It had been near Josiah’s room that he heard the whispers. Could it be a coincidence, or could the man have something to do with the happenings on this estate?
Charles thanked his head gardener for the information, then made his way to Josiah’s assigned office. As he hadn’t had another opportunity to speak to his steward about the declining income, this came as a perfect opportunity.
Without bothering to knock, Charles threw open the door and found Josiah sitting in the midst of a huge mess of papers. Judging from the man’s wide-eyed stare, he hadn’t expected to see Charles.
“My lord.” Josiah scrambled to his feet. “W-what can I do for you?”
“What is going on here?”
The man pushed his spectacles further up his nose. “I-I was looking for a paper I misplaced.”
Glancing around the room, Charles imagined the missing sheet held special importance. Otherwise, the search wouldn’t have brought about such a mess. Something more was going on here.
Piercing Josiah with his gaze, Charles walked forward. Sweat dripped down the man’s face as he averted his eyes. The steward didn’t appear to be capable of putting together any event that would have brought harm to anyone. Nor did he look like someone who would defy Charles.
“Does this,” Charles spread his arms out to encompass the room, “have to do with the missing income or the fire today? Or does it have to do with the incidents that have been taking place on my estate?”
Josiah’s mouth fell open as he stared at Charles. “You know about all those things?”
“Are you trying to hide it from me? That isn’t a sign of an innocent man.”
“Oh no, my lord. I simply wanted to handle everything myself. With your new wife, I imagined you’d be busy.”
Anger clawed at Charles’s neck. “And the papers you sent to me during these months were what? To tide me over?”
All this time, Charles had counted on this man. He’d left everything in his hands. To find out how misplaced his trust had been enraged him. He pulled his clenched fist behind him to stop himself from physical violence.
“Get out,” he ground out.
Josiah held his hands up. “Please give me another chance. I will explain everything. I promise. I have nowhere else to go.”
On one hand, Charles wanted to ignore the pleading and cast the man out. However, that option left him with nothing. If his steward held the information needed to punish the person responsible, Charles needed to hear him out.
“Tell me what you know, and then I shall decide what to do with you.”
“Thank you, my lord.” Josiah bowed, then began rummaging around in the papers.
Charles crossed his arms. “The story. Now.”
“I can’t find the paper, but I suppose there is no help for it. My troubles began shortly after you went to London.”
“That long ago?” Charles was flabbergasted. How could his steward have allowed it to go on all these months?
With a nod, Josiah
continued. “Some of the tenants appealed to me, saying they couldn’t pay the rent. Understanding their predicament, I decided to give them time to make payment, but I put an increase on the remaining tenants.”
Charles gritted his teeth. “How could you make such a decision without my agreement? That was not your choice to make.”
“I realize that now. Regardless, that’s when things started happening. More people refuse to pay. There were thefts and looting, and matters have continued to escalate, especially when you and Countess came back.”
All their trouble came about because the stupid man tried to cheat the tenants. Charles saw red. His hands itched to wring Josiah’s neck.
“You are going to fix this. You are going to personally visit every tenant and tell them you made a mistake. Their rents will return to an acceptable amount.”
Josiah shifted his feet, clearly uncomfortable. “It’s not only that. Recently matters have only gotten worse.”
Tired of hearing this, Charles closed his eyes and sighed. His estate was in an uproar because of this bloody fool. Now the danger had reached his home.
“When exactly did this begin?”
“After Lady Dunmore’s . . . accident. I think your countess has something to do with all this.”
Chapter 11
Rebecca shoved the last of the flowers in the holes she’d dug. For some reason the satisfaction she got from gardening eased her troubles. With the back of her gloved hand, she wiped the sweat from her brow as she surveyed her handiwork.
The breeze picked up, causing a chill to run over her skin. Her fear returned for a second, but she brushed it away. The past week hadn’t been easy. Normally as she walked through the halls, she had to have someone with her. Luckily, she never had to voice her concern. Sylvia and Anna seemed to be aware of her struggle, and although Gloria seemed oblivious, she obliged with her presence as well.
Her husband, however, turned out to be the strangest part. Although he hadn’t returned to his previous distant behavior, he wasn’t exactly trying to reclaim their relationship.
Something always lurked deep within him. Something she couldn’t touch. Something she couldn’t see. Whatever it was, it didn’t allow him to be carefree like before. He was troubled. And every time she caught him staring at her with his intense gaze, it troubled her as well.
“My lady, are you there?”
She smiled to hear the voice of the small boy. As she worked in the gardens he would often find her. Although she wasn’t sure who he belonged to, he seemed to know his way about the grounds. Likely he belonged to one of the staff.
“I’m here,” she called.
“Are you alone?”
Stifling a giggle, she slid off her gloves and moved toward Trevor’s voice. She imagined he wasn’t supposed to be in the garden. He always wanted to make sure no one else was near.
“The Baroness Shalley is only a few rows away from me. Don’t you want to meet her?” she asked, leaning over the bench he hid behind.
His wide eyes met hers. “No. My mama said that I can’t talk to anyone.”
“What about me? I’m someone.”
“You are different. You are the countess. I’m supposed to talk to you.” He climbed out from under the bench.
“Really? Why’s that?”
“Mama wants to meet you. I told her about you teaching me about flowers and about me teaching you about bugs. Said you sounded real nice.”
She smiled. The boy’s goodness radiated off of him. Part of her really wanted to take him up on his offer, but her sense of danger warned her off. If his mother resided on the grounds, she could come herself.
“I’m glad she approves of our friendship.”
“Come on. We’ve got to hurry. Mama said she’d make us a treat if we got there soon.”
Icy tendrils of dread gripped her chest. Why did he want her to go with him so badly? He’d even been promised a treat to comply. Perhaps the previous countess’s deaths had nothing to do with their pregnancies.
“Trevor, how many of the other countess’s have you been friends with?”
“Just you, and Lady Allison, but she’s gone now.”
Rebecca fell backwards to sit on the bench. Allison had drowned in the river. Had it been an accident or murder?
Clearly impatient, Trevor shifted his weight to his other foot. “Are you gonna come? You won’t want to miss my mama’s tarts.”
“I can imagine they are wonderful.” But not worth dying for, Rebecca mentally added.
“Then you’ll come?”
“Perhaps another time. I’m not feeling well at the moment.”
The color drained from his face as he rushed to her side. “You aren’t gonna die, are you?”
She swallowed. Before the incident on the stairs, she would have laughed off his concern, but now she couldn’t. However, he was too little to worry over such things.
“Of course not. I’m much too young and stubborn.”
He sniffed, then wiped his nose on his shirt sleeve. “Allison was younger than you. Does that mean she wasn’t stubborn?”
Rebecca laughed. “Yes, so don’t worry about me. Why don’t you run along now and see if your mama will make you the tart without me.”
His face lit up. “I can tell her you are sick, then she’ll reward me because I tried.”
As he scampered off through the rows of vegetation, Rebecca rose and made her way back to Gloria. The conversation gave her a creepy sensation, and she needed the comfort of her friend right now.
“Where have you been?” Gloria demanded. “I wasn’t gone long and you disappeared.”
“I’m sorry. I just moved down the path a little way.” Rebecca sat down near where Gloria stood. “Can you tell me something?”
“Certainly. What’s wrong?” Gloria sat beside her, giving her full attention.
“Can you tell me about Charles’s previous wives? Being in their position, I find myself seeking to know more about them.”
The smile froze on her friend’s face. “None of them have a good story to tell. Wouldn’t you rather talk about something else? I can tell something is bothering you. Do you want to talk about that instead?”
Squirming on her seat, Rebecca debated the wisdom of confiding in Gloria, who could turn around and tell Charles what she’d heard. On the other hand, Gloria might be the only one who understood.
“You once told me something bad was occurring in this house. That I wouldn’t be safe if I married Charles. Do you still feel that way?”
Gloria looked away. “Honestly, I’m not sure. Part of me hopes my frequent visits help to keep you safe in some way. I never understood the threatening presence Allison felt, nor did I comprehend Lorraine’s desperation to lose her child.”
“Were you . . . close?”
“I had a different relationship with all of them. Considering my friendship with Charles, they had to tolerate my occasional visits. You and I are different.”
Knowing their friendship wasn’t solely because of Charles made Rebecca smile. Although Gloria had moments where she was difficult to deal with, she was genuine. Did the other women not see that?
“Can you tell me about Allison?”
Gloria’s face lost color as she stared into nothingness. “Something happened to her. Something bad. Fear is a horrible thing. For the rest of my life, I’ll never forget the look on Allison’s face when we last spoke. Pray that such a thing never happens to you.”
Tense and uncomfortable, Charles walked along the bank beside his wife with his hands clasped behind his back. Although it was an activity they shared many times, today didn’t bring the same pleasure he remembered. He wanted their relationship to fall back to the days before she became pregnant. Unfortunately, he wasn’t sure they co
uld.
“I hear Madam Hershal has taken a liking to you,” he said conversationally.
She stopped and turned terrified eyes to him. “You will not make her leave, will you?”
Her plea caught him off guard. Why would she ask that directly after his statement? Did she believe him to be a monster? He would never imagine taking her friend from her, especially now.
“The woman is welcome here for as long as you’d like. I owe her my gratitude for helping you through your accident.”
With head tilted to the side, she studied him. As if she expected him to demand payment in return for his concession. Had his absence from her been why she believed so ill of him?
“You promise?”
Placing his hands on her shoulder, he took her full attention. “I want you to be happy. I know this isn’t easy now, but it will end.”
She drew her lip between her teeth. His breathing became labored. He wanted nothing more than to seal his mouth on hers.
Needing a distraction, he lowered his gaze to her neck. He slid his hands closer to mimic the curve of her collarbone, forming a circle. She would look so wonderful covered in jewels. He needed to make time to search for the family jewelry. His bride should be adorned in finery.
Moving his hands closer together, he allowed his thumbs to brush up her neck. Abruptly, she jerked back and stared wide-eyed at him. What had happened?
The look in her eyes made his pulse double. Fear. He’d seen it before on different faces many times before. What reason did she have to be scared of him? Of all people, he hadn’t expected it from her. She knew him better than anyone.
“I’m not going to hurt you,” he assured.
She looked down at the ground. “I know. I just . . . It’s been difficult since I’ve lost the baby.”
They resumed walking as silence further divided them. He didn’t know what to say. It was obvious to him how much she wanted that child, but he couldn’t help her. Not again. Although the midwife assured him Rebecca would be able to deliver a healthy baby with no harm to herself, he couldn’t trust it. After all, the doctor had been wrong three times.
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