A Truth Revealed

by Lucy Adams

  “They have been most discreet,” Lord Hearst replied, with a shake of his head. “But neither of them have discovered very much about the lady at all. She does not like to speak of herself, it seems.”

  “They are trained to keep such things to themselves,” Sebastian replied, with a shake of his head. “They do not speak of their past. They do not give their real names to a gentleman.” He cocked his head. “By what name does she call herself?”

  “She is merely ‘Sarah’,” Lord Hearst replied, with a shake of his head. “That is all we know of her, save for the fact that she speaks with a slight accent to her words, which, of course, makes us consider that she is not from England.”

  Sebastian bit his lip, his brows knotting together as he considered. “And has someone attempted to ply Madame Bereford with a little more coin?” he asked, as Lord Hearst frowned. “She may be more willing to speak to us about her girl if we offered her some more money.”

  “That has been considered, yes.”

  Sebastian turned to see Lord Eldridge approaching, greeting the gentleman quickly.

  “It has been considered, you say?”

  “But not taken forward as yet,” Lord Eldridge answered, with a small sigh. “We do not want to give the lady in question any sort of fright, make her aware that there are those seeking to know her better.”

  Sebastian hesitated before he spoke again, letting his thoughts wind through his mind for a moment or two longer. “Then might we not come to her as a friend of Lord Hazelton’s?” he suggested, as the other two gentlemen looked at him steadily. “State that we are a little concerned by his attachment to the girl and seeking Madame Bereford’s reassurance? It might be that she will tell us more about the lady if she fears that her income from Lord Hazelton’s visits will soon be disappearing.”

  Lord Eldridge nodded slowly, his thumb rubbing across his chin as he thought. “That is a wise consideration,” he said, as Sebastian allowed himself a small smile. “Are you acquainted with Lord Hazelton?”

  Sebastian nodded, not thinking about what such a question might mean. “I am.”

  “Then might you be willing to do as you have suggested, Lord Millerton?”

  His smile dropped away at once as he saw Lord Eldridge looking at him expectantly. He had not expected to be the one involved in such things so quickly, biting his lip for a moment before he answered. “I — I suppose I could — ”

  “Capital,” Lord Hearst said quickly. “And I can attend with you, should you require it?”

  Considering for a moment, Sebastian nodded. “That would certainly give the impression to Madame Bereford that I am arrived not to seek any sort of meeting with any of her ladies, but rather simply to speak to her about my acquaintance,” he said, firmly. “Yes, Lord Hearst, that would be very helpful, I am sure.”

  Lord Hearst grinned, his fingers pushing back his fair hair as a flicker of excitement entered his hazel eyes. “Excellent,” he said, with a good deal more enthusiasm than Sebastian himself felt. “When shall we first call upon her?”

  Sebastian shrugged. “I should reacquaint myself with Lord Hazelton first, I think,” he said, no eagerness to go to Madame Bereford’s house. “I shall see if I can encourage him to speak to me of this young lady before I thereafter call upon Lady Bereford. That way, if he discovers that I have spoken to her, he will have no reason not to think that my motives are genuine.”

  Lord Eldridge smiled his agreement. “A wise consideration,” he said, firmly. “Then I shall inform the other two gentlemen of your intentions, so that they are both aware of it.” His lips quirked. “Let us hope that, at our next meeting, we have something a little more substantial to speak of when it comes to this lady of the night!”

  Sebastian cleared his throat, rose and clasped his hands behind his back. His heart was hammering a little too forcefully for his liking but try as he might, he could not quell it. Lady Callander was just about to step into his drawing room and the anticipation in his heart had sent a flutter of nervousness hurrying straight through him.

  “Lady Callander, my lord.”

  “Thank you, Merriweather.” Sebastian smiled brightly as Lady Callander walked into the room, noting that she brought a maid with her who immediately sat on a small chair in the corner of the room, facing the wall. “Good afternoon, Lady Callander.” He smiled at her brightly, only to notice that her face distinctly lacked any sort of smile or contentment. Rather, she looked distinctly troubled. “Is something the matter?”

  Lady Callander sank into a chair, her light green eyes flickering with concern. “The matter that I was to speak to you about, Lord Millerton, the one that I considered too inconsequential to talk to you about before…..” She trailed off, looking at him, her lip caught between her teeth. “I think I should speak to you of it now.”

  “Please.” He sat forward, only to be interrupted by the arrival of the maid with a tea tray. They were forced to wait as the maid set things out directly in front of Lady Callander, who smiled her thanks even though it did not quite linger in her eyes. He wanted to hurry the maid along but gritted his teeth and waited as patiently as he could, his heart beating at a quickened pace. The maid seemed to take an age, even though he knew it was most likely his eagerness rather than her lack of haste.

  “My apologies, Lady Callander,” he said, the moment the door closed. “What is it that now concerns you?”

  Lady Callander let out a slow breath, her face pinched. “It may very well be nothing of any consequence,” she said, reaching into her reticule and pulling out a folded piece of paper. “I had Lord Hazelton calling upon me some days ago and he told me the most extraordinary thing.”

  “Oh?” His curiosity was piqued. “About what, might I ask?”

  Lady Callander squared her shoulders and took a breath, as though what she was about to say would be considered quite ridiculous. “Lord Hazelton was convinced that the gentleman I described as my husband was not, in fact, my husband.”

  Sebastian frowned, feeling rather puzzled. “What do you mean?”

  “He described him as being gregarious and full of life,” she said, spreading her hands and shaking her head. “I must admit, I did laugh but Lord Hazelton was very upset with me for doing so.”

  “He must be mistaken,” Sebastian replied, not understanding why Lady Callander seemed to be so confused. “Surely that is just a poor memory, or someone becoming mixed up with what actually occurred.”

  Lady Callander nodded. “That is what I first thought,” she agreed, with a shrug. “But then he described him in such detail and with such firmness that I found it very difficult to disagree with him.”

  “I see.”

  “But,” Lady Callander continued, with another great breath, “what confused me the most was that he told me that my husband had green eyes, was tall and quite slim of figure.” Her lips twisted, her eyes darting away from him. “I did challenge him on this, of course, but he only became thoroughly confused and, I think, believed that I was teasing him by being obtuse.”

  “That is a little odd, indeed,” Sebastian admitted. “And this now troubles you?”

  Lady Callander nodded. “How can it not?” she asked, handing him the note. “Particularly when I have only just received this note from him?”

  Holding her gaze for another moment, Sebastian then turned his attention to the note. Unfolding it, he read it quickly, his brow knotting as he took in what was said.

  ‘Lady Callander, I must inform you that there is something more about your late husband that I have discovered. It is not as it seems. I do not believe that the Earl you knew and the one that I was acquainted with were one and the same. Allow me to call upon you at your earliest convenience.’

  “What am I to make of it?” she asked, looking at him with searching eyes. “I believed him to be mistaken at first but now to have received this…..” She trailed off, her lip clenched between her teeth again as he folded the note up carefully, his mind caught on Lord H
azelton’s name. He was a gentleman that appeared to be oft mentioned of late, given that the League were also investigating his connections to the lady at Madame Bereford’s. He hesitated before speaking, wanting to reassure Lady Callander but, at the same time, finding his mind beginning to whirl through the possibilities.

  “I am sure that there is nothing to concern yourself with,” he began, slowly, “but I will inform you that there is something about Lord Hazelton that the League are also looking into. I do not think that there is anything that would connect him from one situation to the next but it is worth considering, at least.”

  Lady Callander’s eyes had widened. “I see.”

  “I would meet with him,” Sebastian continued, “and mayhap just as soon as you can. Hear what he has to say and consider it. Inform the League if there is anything that concerns you. I —”

  “Would you not meet him with me?”

  The question made him stop short. He had not even thought about doing such a thing, but now that she had asked him, he felt both an eagerness to aid her in whatever way she wished alongside a faint desire to protect her.

  “Yes, of course,” he answered, gently. “If it would reassure you?”

  She let out a long breath. “It would, very much,” she answered, looking a little less concerned. “I shall write to him this very afternoon and thereafter, let you know what is said.” Picking up her teacup, she allowed herself to take a small sip before setting it back down on the china plate. “I thank you for your willingness, Lord Millerton.”

  “I would do anything I could to help you, Lady Callander,” before he could stop himself. “Truly, I —”

  “You are very kind, Lord Millerton,” Lady Callander interrupted, before he could say more. “You do not know what a relief this is to me. I confess that I fear I have been a little overwrought over something that does not merit it!”

  He smiled at her, glad that she felt such a way after only such a small decision. “Not at all, Lady Callander.”

  She rose. “I shall write to him at once,” she said, hurrying towards the door as though every second was of great importance. “And thereafter, I shall write to you also. I thank you again, Lord Millerton.”

  “But of course.” He made to go to her, to take her hand, to bow over her fingers and feel her hand in his, but then the moment passed much too quickly and she was gone. Heaving a great sigh — a mixture of regret and contentment, Sebastian sat back down in his chair and allowed himself to consider all that she had said again. Was there anything to Lord Hazelton’s remarks? Or was he simply becoming mixed up with another gentleman? Either way, Sebastian had to admit that he was rather curious as to what would be said when they met with him.

  Chapter Five

  The response to her note agreeing to meet Lord Hazelton whenever it next suited him had been met with a flurry of responses — albeit the following morning. Lord Hazelton had sent one note, and then another, and then, finally, a third, with each detailing a different time and place that they were to meet. She had written to Lord Millerton almost at once, begging him to come to call upon her at his earliest convenience.

  Bridgette was greatly confused at her notes from Lord Hazelton, wondering why the gentleman had sent her three notes, each with a different time and place for their meeting. Spreading them out before her on her writing desk, she sat with her quill poised, trying to think of what she ought to write back to him in return. Was she to ask him to clarify? She was not certain she would have time to receive a response from him, given that the second note had stated that they would meet at two o’clock precisely at St James’ Park and that it was already almost midday.

  “My lady?”

  She looked across to see her butler standing in the doorway.

  “Lord Millerton has arrived, my lady.”

  “Oh!” She set down her quill and rose quickly. “Send him in at once, if you please.”

  The butler nodded and withdrew and within only a few seconds, Lord Millerton walked into the room, his eyes lingering on her for a moment before he bowed.

  “I thank you for coming, Lord Millerton,” she said, hastily coming towards him. “I have received not one but three notes from Lord Hazelton, and each of these notes state a different time and place that we are to meet!”

  Lord Millerton frowned. “What do you mean?”

  She gestured towards her desk. “I received these three notes within a short space of time earlier this morning,” she said, as he walked towards them. “They all have a different time and place for us to meet, with the second note being only two hours away!” Frowning, she rubbed at her forehead. “If I write to him to ask for clarification, then I cannot be certain that I will receive a response by the time two o’clock comes.”

  Bridgette watched Lord Millerton anxiously, wondering what he would say in response. He read each note, his brow furrowed, his lips pressed hard together.

  “How very odd,” he said, slowly, turning his head to look at her. “And you have not written to him as yet?”

  She shook her head. “I was not certain what to do.”

  He twisted his lips. “Mayhap we ought to call upon him,” he said, slowly. “I cannot be certain that —”

  A scratch at the door interrupted him and Bridgette turned at once towards it, calling the butler to enter.

  “Pardon the interruption, my lady,” he said, inclining his head, “but a boy came to the door and asked me to give you a message.”

  Bridgette’s eyes flared in surprise. “A message?” she repeated, sensing Lord Millerton coming to stand beside her. “What was it?”

  The butler cleared his throat, looking a trifle uneasy. “I do not quite understand it, my lady, but the boy said the words ‘the second’.” He looked at her, as Bridgette frowned. “That is all that was said.”

  “I see,” Bridgette murmured, her mind quickly turning back to the notes. “Thank you. You may go.”

  The butler inclined his head again, a flash of relief in his eyes as he turned away. The moment the door closed, Bridgette turned to Lord Millerton, a sense of excitement in her heart. “The second note, Lord Millerton!”

  Lord Millerton hesitated, then nodded, his expression brightening. “Then you are to meet him at St James’ Park at two o’clock,” he said, striding back towards the notes. “But what is his reason for writing three notes, each with a different time and place?” He picked them up, one after the other, his eyes flicking from one to the other. “It does concern me, I will admit.”

  “Because you fear that there is some sort of danger surrounding what Lord Hazelton wishes to tell me?” she asked, as Lord Millerton nodded. “He fears that mayhap someone will come to where we meet?”

  Lord Millerton nodded. “That is my consideration, yes,” he replied, with a grave look in her direction. “We must be on our guard, Lady Callander. There might be more here than we are aware of at present.”

  St James’ Park was not particularly busy, given the time of day. Most of the beau monde would be making calls, before preparation for the fashionable hour. The day was very lovely indeed, with a warm sun but a few white clouds that took some of the heat from it. Bridgette walked beside Lord Millerton, her parasol held over her bonnet to ensure that she did not allow the sun to fall onto her face. Her heart was pounding as she looked left and right, trying to find any sign of Lord Hazelton.

  “Did he say specifically where you were to meet him in the park?” Lord Millerton asked. “I am aware what the note stated, but there was not another that came thereafter?”

  “No,” she answered, coming to a sudden stop, one hand reaching out to press Lord Millerton’s hand. “Wait, is that not a gentleman sitting there, a little ahead of us?”

  Lord Millerton stopped beside her and then gazed straight ahead, as to where her eyes were fixed. A gentleman was sitting on a bench a short distance from them. He appeared to be a little slumped, his head hanging low, his chin on his chest and his hat a little precarious as it sat
on his head.

  “He looks as though he is in some contemplation,” Lord Millerton murmured, although she did not miss the slight catch in his voice. “Mayhap you should permit me to go first, Lady Callander.”

  She shook her head. “We shall walk together, Lord Millerton,” she said, decisively. “After all, Lord Hazelton is expecting only myself and, given the strange way he has arranged this meeting, I shall have to ensure that he is not inclined to hurry from me simply because I have company.” She looked up into his face and saw him nod, although a frown knotted his brow as he kept his gaze fixed on the gentleman in front of them. They began to walk together, falling into step beside each other and ensuring that they did not walk overly quickly so as not to frighten the gentleman, particularly if it turned out not to be Lord Hazelton!

  “Wait a moment.”

  Lord Millerton’s voice was low, his brow furrowing hard as he held her back.

  “Wait, Lady Callander.”

  She glanced up at him, looking up into his eyes and then back at the gentleman on the bench. “Lord Millerton?”

  He finally looked away from the scene in front of him and then back towards her. “Look, Lady Callander.” His low, grave voice sent a shiver down her spine but she forced herself to turn back, to look at the gentleman a little more closely — and caught her breath as she realized what he had seen.

  “Oh no,” she whispered, seeing that the gentleman before them was sitting with something protruding from his chest. In the sunshine, she could see that what she could see of his shirt was not a crisp white but rather a dark stained red. “Is — is he dead?”

  Bridgette watched as Lord Millerton hurried forward, finding her feet fixed to the ground, her hands shaking as she clasped them together. Lord Millerton moved quickly, lifting the man’s head with both hands, searching the gentleman’s face for any sign of life.

  She knew at once that it was Lord Hazelton, recognizing his face. His eyes were wide and staring and from the way Lord Millerton shook his head, she realized that he was no longer of this world.