A Wealthy Widow

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A Wealthy Widow Page 22

by Anne Herries


  ‘I dare say there is not much more to remember,’ Arabella said and stroked her cheek. ‘You have been through a terrible ordeal, my love, but it is over now. You must rest and try to forget the things that hurt you, Sarah.’ She stood up. ‘I shall ask Mrs Bristol to prepare you a tisane to help you sleep. Would you like to see your mama before you sleep?’

  ‘Yes, please,’ Sarah said and the tears began to trickle down her cheeks. ‘Poor Mama. How she must have suffered all this time—and then I did not know her…’

  ‘Your mama loves you,’ Arabella told her. ‘She cares only that you are safe again.’ Hearing a knock at the door at that moment, she turned to see Mrs Hunter standing in the doorway. ‘Please come in now,’ she said. ‘I was just about to ask you if you would come to Sarah. I shall leave you together.’

  She stood up, leaving Mrs Hunter to comfort her daughter and going back downstairs. Seeing Mrs Bristol in the hall, she requested that a tisane be sent up to Sarah.

  ‘Not for a few minutes. She wishes to be private with her mother—but one of your soothing tisanes will help her to sleep, Mrs Bristol.’

  ‘I expect it has been an ordeal for her,’ the kindly woman said. ‘I’ve been seeing to Mr Elworthy, ma’am. He has a little wound to his arm. Nothing very much. I’ve bathed it and put a poultice on for him, but he says he doesn’t need the doctor.’

  ‘We shall ask him to call, none the less,’ Arabella said. ‘I prefer that everything is done that ought to be, Mrs Bristol. We owe a debt to Mr Elworthy, and he must not be neglected.’

  ‘That’s what I thought, ma’am,’ Mrs Bristol said. ‘I’ve already sent one of the grooms to ask for him.’

  ‘Thank you.’ Arabella returned to the drawing room, where Charles and Lady Tate were still discussing what had taken place that night. ‘Sarah has remembered everything,’ she told them. ‘She is feeling a little weepy, but her mother is with her and Mrs Bristol is making her a tisane. I am sure she will be better in the morning.’

  ‘How strange that it should all come back to her so suddenly,’ Lady Tate said. Charles turned to stare out of the window, his shoulders tight with tension. Clearly he was under a strain, blaming himself for his sister’s distress.

  ‘I dare say it has been happening for a little while. I think it may have been Tilda’s abduction which finally released her memory.’ She went over to where Charles was standing and touched his arm. ‘You did not tell us that Mr Elworthy was wounded.’

  ‘It was merely a scratch. He asked me not to say anything in front of Sarah.’

  ‘That was thoughtful of him,’ Arabella said, looking pensive. ‘I am glad that Sarah has remembered everything, Charles. I believe she will begin to get over it soon now. It seems that she was not…’ She saw the hope in his eyes. ‘Forsythe told her what was to happen when he had forced her to take drugged wine, but she spat out much of it. It made her sleepy, but it did not put her into the deep trance he had expected. She woke up before anything happened and ran away. Someone tried to help her, but she was in such a state that she became frightened when he left her to get help and she ran away again. After that she just kept on walking until she became ill. She still does not remember what happened then, until she woke up in Nana’s bed—but I doubt there is much to remember. She was soaked through by the rain, near to starving, and her feet were bleeding. I think that was enough to make her lose her senses, do you not agree?’

  ‘Yes, it would be enough for anyone,’ he said and gave a sigh of relief. ‘It seems that my worst fears have come to nothing—thanks to the kindness of your nurse.’

  ‘Nana was happy to help her. She was a dear good woman. I wish you could have known her, Charles. She would have approved of you—and you would have liked her.’

  ‘I am sure that I should,’ he said. A look of near-despair came into his blue eyes. ‘Do you think that Sarah will ever forgive me, Arabella? What can I do to make it up to her?’

  ‘I do not think she would ask anything of you, other than that you continue to love her as you always have. Sarah was afraid that she had done something to deserve her kidnap. I think she imagined she might have brought it on herself by flirting with a gentleman.’

  ‘No, how could she? She was an innocent child,’ Charles said. ‘All our friends adored her. She had not yet gone out into society, for Mama wished to wait until she was older. I think she did not want her little girl to grow up too soon—but she has, and in the worst possible way.’

  ‘Sarah is still an innocent,’ Arabella said. ‘Yes, she has suffered, but not as much as she might. You must not continue to blame yourself as you do, Charles.’

  ‘Whom else should I blame?’ he asked and his eyes had taken on a wintry shade that made them more grey than blue. ‘I know that nothing I can do will ever make up to her for what happened—but I am determined to do whatever she asks of me.’

  ‘Charles…’ Arabella felt helpless as she saw that look in his eyes. Was there no way that she could reach him, release him from this self-torture?

  ‘Excuse me, I must speak to John,’ he said and gave her a curt nod. ‘This business is not yet over. I think Welch will have bolted for his hideaway, wherever that may be, but we cannot afford to relax our vigil. If he would help Forsythe plan Sarah’s kidnap for a lost hand of cards, goodness knows how he is feeling now. I do not imagine that he will be content to let things lie. He must hate us all. My only prayer is that he will try to take his revenge on me, rather than you or my family.’

  Arabella watched as he walked from the room. Her heart ached to see him go. She knew that he was hurting terribly, his guilt beating at him like an iron bar. He blamed himself for Sarah’s kidnap, and he was probably blaming himself because Sir Courtney had escaped that evening. He was such an intense, passionate man. He took everything on his own shoulders and believed that he must be responsible for everything ill that befell his family. Quick to fire up, impatient and proud, she knew that he was the man she loved—and she always would.

  But how was she to get him to admit that he loved her? She sensed it, believed that it was true, but the doubts would not let her be. Charles might care for her, might want her in his bed, but was his feeling for her strong enough to overcome his guilt over what had happened to Sarah?

  ‘Charles is a very conscientious man,’ Lady Tate observed as he left them alone together. ‘His attachment to his sister is creditable—but I am not sure that it is wise. I think that Sarah might become irritated by too much devotion from her brother. Of course, it might be another thing if it were Mr Elworthy.’

  ‘Oh, Aunt, have you seen that too?’ Arabella smiled at her. ‘I think he likes her and I believe she may like him—though it may be a while before she is ready to trust any man again.’

  ‘Yes, I suppose,’ Lady Tate said thoughtfully. ‘Was Ralph mixed up in this business, Arabella? Please tell me the truth. I know that he wished to be rid of me when I would not give him what he wanted—but if he planned to harm you, he must be punished.’

  ‘Let us see how he is when the doctor has finished with him,’ Arabella suggested. ‘If he was involved with Sir Courtney—and I am not saying that it was so—why was he shot? Perhaps he merely pretended to go along with him until the last and was preparing to betray him to us.’

  ‘Do you think it might be the case?’ Lady Tate looked hopeful. ‘Ralph was always a coward at heart. I think that is the only reason I am still alive. He hoped to make me unwell so that I might die—but had not the courage to carry it through to the end.’

  ‘Oh, Aunt Hester,’ Arabella said. ‘I hate to admit it, but I think you are right. I am so sorry.’

  ‘I think that I shall go down to the village tomorrow and see Ralph,’ Lady Tate said. ‘He may be a rogue, but he is still my son.’

  ‘I shall come with you,’ Arabella said. ‘We shall take an escort with us, but I doubt that we need it for the moment. Sir Courtney must have left the district by now. If Mr Henderson puts out an order for his
arrest, he will not dare to come this way again.’

  ‘Thank you, I hoped that you might,’ Lady Tate said. ‘I think that I shall go up now…’ She stood up just as Mrs Bristol tapped the door and then looked in on them.

  ‘Doctor James has been up to see Mr Elworthy, my lady,’ she said. ‘And he has asked if he may speak to either you or Lady Tate.’

  ‘Ask him to come in,’ Arabella said. ‘Stay for a moment, Aunt. He may have news of Ralph.’

  The doctor entered a moment or two later. ‘This is a sorry business, Lady Arabella,’ he said. ‘I believe I have recently attended your cousin—and your son, of course, Lady Tate. I thought I should tell you that he has nothing worse than a nasty cut to the back of his head. He did suffer a slight concussion, but soon came to himself. I have given him something to help him sleep this evening for he would try to get out of bed and I was afraid he might harm himself.’

  ‘Ralph was very lucky that the shot did not kill him,’ Arabella said.

  ‘Yes, indeed he was. His good angel was a silver card case, I understand. I saw the ball lodged in it. The case was of good quality and on the back it had your family motto inscribed, Lady Arabella—that is what made me think I would tell you what had happened. Your cousin was fortunate that you had given him such a gift, for it saved his life.’

  ‘Yes, very fortunate,’ Arabella said. ‘Thank you for telling us, sir. Lady Tate was concerned for her son, but she may rest easier now.’

  ‘Yes, that is what I thought,’ Dr James replied. ‘Goodnight then, ladies. I must get home—I am expecting to be called to the bedside of a dying woman this night. Annie is ninety years of age, and she has had many narrow escapes from death, but I think she will not this time.’ He nodded to them and went out, closing the door behind him.

  ‘Well…’ Lady Tate said, ‘fancy that, Arabella…’ She made a sound of disapproval. ‘And where did Ralph get your card case? I do not believe that you gave it to him as a gift.’

  ‘No, I do not recall it,’ Arabella said. ‘I believe I may have left it somewhere—perhaps downstairs. I had some new cards printed in London and the carrier delivered them, with other things, the morning that Ralph called here. I remember opening the package and placing some of the cards in the case. I may have left the case lying in the parlour downstairs. Yes, now I think about it, I am certain that I did.’

  ‘The parlour where I took him when he asked to speak to me alone.’ Lady Tate frowned. ‘So now he has become a thief as well. Did you know that the case was missing, Arabella?’

  ‘I had not thought of it,’ Arabella said. ‘It is no great matter, Aunt—though Mrs Bristol did mention that an engraved silver music box was missing from one of the display cabinets. It was a present from Ben on our wedding day.’

  ‘Oh, how could he?’ Lady Tate shook her head. ‘I do not know what has become of him.’

  ‘It does not signify,’ Arabella said. ‘I thought I must have moved the music box—but if Ralph took it that solves the mystery. At least I do not need to search for it and we may dismiss it from our minds. I am glad that Mrs Bristol will not now have to question the servants, for that would have been grossly unfair.’

  ‘You are too forgiving!’

  ‘I care for you, Aunt. I would gladly have given Ralph money to see you safe. In fact, I may do so now…providing he agrees to leave England.’

  ‘You would do that?’ Lady Tate’s eyes filled with tears. ‘He does not deserve it, Arabella. He ought by rights to be in prison.’

  ‘But that would make you unhappy,’ Arabella said. ‘If Ralph will agree to be put on a ship for the West Indies, I shall have my bank send money out there for him. I think ten thousand pounds should be enough.’

  ‘Oh, Arabella, you are too good…’ Lady Tate sniffed and reached for her kerchief.

  ‘Please do not cry or I shall change my mind,’ Arabella said, teasing her. ‘I think I shall go up now, dearest. I believe we could all do with some sleep. It has been an exhausting day…

  Chapter Ten

  Lady Tate came down much earlier than usual the next morning and Arabella ordered the carriage brought round. She slipped her pistol into the pocket of her elegant gown in case she should need it, though they had an escort of four armed men, which made her feel protected, but also slightly uncomfortable. It was not pleasant to think that every time she left the house she must be guarded, but for the moment she must accept it.

  When they reached the inn, Ralph was still in the parlour having his breakfast. He had slept late, but was preparing to leave immediately after he had eaten, and he seemed startled to see his mother and cousin walk in. He stared at Arabella, registering surprise, disbelief and then, finally, relief. He stood up to greet them.

  ‘Arabella! How did…I mean, I thought…’ He floundered as he realised that he could be convicting himself of collusion in the attempt at abduction.

  ‘I am very fortunate,’ Arabella said. ‘I owe it to my good friends that I am not a prisoner and on my way to a forced marriage in Scotland.’

  ‘You know…I mean, did something happen?’ Ralph looked slightly green. ‘Oh, damn it, cousin! I am glad to see you—and you, Mama.’

  ‘You seem no worse for your accident,’ Arabella said drily. ‘I am happy that my card case was of use to you, Ralph.’

  He had the grace to look ashamed. ‘Yes, I took it, and the silver music box from your display cabinet. I shall return that to you at once. I know that I have behaved badly, Arabella—but believe me when I say that I am glad to see you here and well this morning.’

  ‘You plotted with that wicked man to abduct Arabella,’ his mother said, giving him a look of reproach. ‘That was a terrible thing to do, Ralph—and after I had told you that I would sell the house and give you half of the money. How could you contemplate such an act?’ She stared at him reproachfully.

  ‘I owed Welch far more than I could ever pay, even had you given me all of the money from your house,’ Ralph said and there was a flash of fear in his eyes. ‘You don’t know him, Mama. He is a devil. It was his plan to abduct Arabella and I was foolish enough to go along with it. He wanted Arabella’s money, but more than that—he wanted revenge on her because she refused his offer of marriage.’

  ‘It is as we thought,’ Arabella said, accepting it calmly. ‘But why did he shoot you, cousin?’

  ‘Because I refused to help him at the last,’ Ralph said. ‘I had done my part in it and I thought he might let me go, but he tried to kill me. I do admit that if I had not carried your silver case in my breast pocket I should probably be dead, cousin. In a way, I owe my life to you.’

  ‘Then you may thank me by agreeing to my proposition,’ Arabella said. ‘If you will sign a statement telling how Sir Courtney planned to abduct me and force me into marriage, and then agree to go and live abroad, I shall instruct my bank to send ten thousand pounds to your new country. I have been told that the West Indies is a good prospect for men wishing to make their fortunes.’

  ‘I would prefer America,’ Ralph said, looking at her thoughtfully. ‘You did not need to bribe me to leave the country, cousin. I dare not stay in England—Welch will kill me if he finds me still here. However, I shall take your money as I would be a fool not to—but Mama need not sell her house. Ten thousand pounds will see me settled. I have learned my lesson. I think I shall not lightly gamble beyond my means again.’

  ‘You would be well advised not to gamble at all,’ his mother said severely. ‘You are fortunate that neither Arabella nor I wish to see you in prison. Let this be a lesson to you, Ralph!’

  ‘I regret that I did certain things…’ A red flush crept up his neck. ‘I was desperate. I can say no more than that I am sorry.’

  ‘Very well. We shall none of us mention your part in this affair again,’ Arabella said. ‘Ride back to the house with us. You may write your statement there and someone will witness it—and I shall keep my promise, Ralph. You may present the draft on my bank wherever you c
hoose, as long as it is not in this country, and it shall be honoured.’

  ‘You are more generous than I deserve,’ Ralph said uncomfortably. ‘I admit that I had thought of arranging an accident for you so that Mama would inherit everything, cousin—but I have discovered that I do not have the stomach for it after all. I must beg for your forgiveness—and Mama’s. All that is at an end. You may rest easy as far as I am concerned.’

  ‘Thank you,’ Arabella said, unmoved by his apology. He was feeling chastened at the moment, aware that he had narrowly escaped death, but she did not trust him, which was why the money would not be paid until he was living in his new country. She would be happier when the matter was settled and Ralph was out of England. However, she gave no sign of her feelings, maintaining a cool reserve.

  ‘Come, we shall return to the house and you will write your statement. I have friends who will ride with you to the ship and see you safe on board, cousin. You shall have an extra two hundred guineas in your pocket to see you on your way.’

  ‘You mean that you do not trust me to keep my word?’ Ralph looked angry, but he did not protest. Arabella thought that he was too terrified of Sir Courtney to do anything but agree to her terms.

  ‘You took a risk going to the inn,’ Charles said when he saw Arabella return to the house a short time later. He met her in the hall, for he had seen the carriage approaching from an upper window. His eyes moved to Ralph, narrowing in anger.

 

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