by Joyce Alec
“Good afternoon.”
Her eyes tore from Lord Stephen’s as a gentleman bowed in front of them, a jaunty grin on his face.
“Good afternoon,” Lord Stephen replied easily, clearly well aware of who this gentleman was. “Are you enjoying the sunshine this fine afternoon?”
The gentleman chuckled and Julia looked up into his face, having dropped her head so that he would not see her blush, only to feel something slam hard into her chest.
She knew this gentleman.
“I am indeed,” the gentleman replied, smiling easily at her. “Although I do not have the beautiful company that you are blessed with, Lord Stephen.” He bowed toward her and Julia curtsied in response, trying frantically to recall where she had seen him before. He clearly did not recognize her, which made her all the more uncertain.
“Lord Forrester, this is my dear friend, Miss Hawkins, sister to Viscount Steele.”
“Very good to make your acquaintance,” Lord Forrester replied with another warm smile in her direction. “I do hope that you have been enjoying the Season thus far?”
She nodded, smiling gently even though her mind was frantically trying to work out how she knew him. “I am, yes,” she answered honestly. “Although there has been a good deal of strife as regards Lord Atherton, which I hope will be resolved very soon.”
Lord Forrester’s face fell. “Of course,” he breathed, taking a small step closer and looking at Lord Stephen with concern. “How does Lord Atherton fare, Lord Stephen?”
Under her hand, Julia felt Lord Stephen tense, although she did not understand why. Looking up at him, she saw his face holding a calm expression which did not match the tenseness she felt.
“He is a little recovered,” he told Lord Forrester, who immediately looked delighted, his expression a little overt, were she honest. “I hope he will awaken properly soon.”
“As do I,” Lord Forrester replied warmly. “Now, I shall not detain you further, not when the day is so fine and when I know time such as this is precious.” He held out his hand toward her and, after only a moment’s hesitation, she gave him her hand. He took it with a firmness that surprised her and bowed over it, showing a good deal of respect and yet unsettling her a little. “Good afternoon, Miss Hawkins.”
“Good afternoon,” she murmured, taking her hand back just as quickly as she could before Lord Stephen bowed and they moved away again. Her thoughts and feelings a little confused, Julia frowned to herself as they left Lord Forrester behind, not seeing Lord Stephen’s watchful eyes on her.
“Something about Lord Forrester had concerned you,” he said, catching her attention. “What is it?”
“I do not know,” she replied, looking up at him. “There was something about him that—”
She stopped dead, forcing Lord Stephen to come to a stop beside her. Her hand flew to her mouth, her eyes wide as she stared up at Lord Stephen, realizing just where she had seen Lord Forrester before.
“What is it, Miss Hawkins?” Lord Stephen asked urgently, turning around and reaching up to grip both her hands with his own. “What is wrong?”
Shaking her head, Julia let out a ragged breath, her hands tight in his. “I have just realized that Lord Forrester was the man who sent for the doctor the night of Lord Atherton’s attack,” she told him, seeing Lord Stephen’s eyes widen. “But before you decide to go and thank him for his actions, consider something else.” Her throat worked furiously as she tried to speak with a calmness she did not feel. “He took my hand that night, in perhaps an attempt to help me gain a hold of my shock, but I recall how a chill ran up my arm.”
“A chill?” Lord Stephen repeated, looking a little confused.
“From the touch of his hand,” she replied, seeing how understanding began to creep across his expression. “His hands were cold. His face was flushed also, as though he had been out of doors and then had returned inside.”
“And it was very late so that the night air would have been cold,” Lord Stephen breathed, the color slowly fading from his face. “Do you mean to suggest that Lord Forrester was the man who stabbed my brother?”
Julia swallowed hard, not quite certain whether or not she should confirm that this was what she now thought.
“Tell me what you think, Miss Hawkins,” Lord Stephen prompted, a slight note of pleading in his voice. “I must know if you now think the same as I.”
Seeing the desperation in his eyes, Julia squeezed Lord Stephen’s hand hard. “I think,” she said, “that given that your brother staggered into the ballroom from out of doors, it is reasonable to think that he was stabbed outside. If Lord Forrester had also been out of doors, then there is a possibility that he was the one who did so.” She hesitated, then continued, speaking slowly so that her mind could work things out. “I recall that the footman, Thompson, turned quickly and walked outside once we had taken in the scene. What if he walked out of the French doors so as to tell Lord Forrester that Lord Atherton still lived?”
“And then Lord Forrester reappeared and stated that he would fetch the doctor,” Lord Stephen finished, nodding slowly as his eyes flared with understanding. “A doctor that he fetched himself, with perhaps the sole intention of ensuring that my brother remained unconscious until he could work out what he was to do next.”
Julia closed her eyes and dragged in a long breath, feeling it shake out of her as she let it out. There was a good deal of emotion swaying through her, making it hard for her to catch her breath as she finally came to the realization that what both she and Lord Stephen had managed to conclude was, most likely, the truth.
“The doctor has kept Atherton in a state of unconsciousness,” Lord Stephen continued, his fingers brushing across the back of her hand as he spoke. “And then Thompson was sent to attempt to suffocate Atherton, so that Forrester could finally attain the revenge he clearly has been seeking for some time… although for what reason, I cannot at all understand.”
Opening her eyes, Julia turned back toward the carriage but continued to hold Lord Stephen’s hands, with one now under his arm and the other resting on top. It was a trifle awkward but she did not want to let him go and neither, it seemed, did he.
“Lord Forrester is a friend of yours, then?” she asked, somewhat tentatively. “You know him well?”
“No,” Lord Stephen answered, surprising her. “He is actually well acquainted with my brother. Indeed, it was my brother that introduced me to him.”
She blinked in surprise but kept her thoughts to herself, seeing the confusion and anger on Lord Stephen’s face.
“He has never once shown any anger or upset toward my brother,” Lord Stephen remarked, letting go of one of her hands and rubbing at his eyes for a moment. “My brother has often boasted of his friendship with him and I cannot imagine what has occurred to make him so hateful.”
“We might be mistaken,” Julia suggested carefully, but Lord Stephen shook his head.
“No, I think we are correct in our assumptions,” he said firmly. “The only question is, what are we to do now?” He came to yet another stop in the middle of the path, looking at her in the bright sunshine. She could almost see the dark cloud that hung over him, could almost feel the weight on his shoulders and felt her heart squeeze with sympathy.
“You said yesterday that you had a thought about what we might do with the perpetrator,” he said, his brows knotting. “What was it?”
Trying to remember, Julia began to nod. “I said that there was something we might use to our advantage,” she stated as Lord Stephen leaned closer, as if not wanting to miss a single word. “If we believe it is Lord Forrester, then we have even more of an opportunity.” Her mind began to work more quickly, unthreading various ideas and then sewing them together again. “Lord Forrester does not know that we have managed to decipher that Thompson is involved in all of this. Nor does he know that you have Thompson held safely in your own townhouse. Perhaps he expects Thompson to strike at any moment, for surely he would know to t
ell the footman to bide his time until the correct opportunity presented himself.”
Lord Stephen looked away suddenly, standing upright, letting go of her hands and turning to one side. He began to pace up and down the path, stepping back from her and leaving her to watch him as he walked. Julia bit her lip, unable to even begin to fathom how he must be feeling at this present moment.
“We do not know how Thompson and Lord Forrester communicated their plans,” Lord Stephen muttered, barely glancing at her. “But there must have been some way that they did so. Such plans would have required a good deal of discussion and detailing.”
“Then we discover how such a thing was done,” she answered briskly, even though Lord Stephen did not stop pacing. “We must find out something from Thompson, surely.”
Lord Stephen sighed and, taking his hat from his head, raked one hand through his hair. “The man seemed quite determined to remain silent.”
“Then we search his rooms at your brother’s townhouse,” Julia suggested, and Lord Stephen stopped pacing almost immediately, his eyes sharp as glass as he looked at her.
“He will not have had time to remove anything. Therefore, we might have a chance to discover something of importance.”
She nodded, a small smile touching her lips. “Precisely,” she said as Lord Stephen let out a long breath and put his hands on his knees, bending down as if in a little pain. “Are you quite all right, Lord Stephen?”
He raised his head and looked at her from under his brows, his eyes fixed on hers. “I am just a little overcome,” he said breathlessly. “I feel as though we might only be a short distance away from the truth. A truth that, when revealed, will bring such relief that I do not know what I shall do.”
Julia smiled at him and gestured toward the carriage. “Should you like to go now?”
“To my brother’s townhouse?”
She nodded, hearing a small sting of sadness in his voice as he mentioned his brother. “We should search Thompson’s rooms whilst we have the chance,” she pointed out, feeling a sting of anticipation as they walked toward the carriage. “Your brother will be quite safe, will he not?”
Lord Stephen hesitated, then nodded. “The doctor will not return again,” he said firmly. “My staff have been instructed not to allow anyone else within the house. Therefore, I am sure Atherton will be quite all right until we return.”
“Very good,” Julia replied, feeling her heart quicken with the prospect of what they might find. “There is nothing to hold us back.”
“Then let us go with all speed,” he said, suddenly striding toward the carriage with quick footsteps, leaving both her and Mrs. Law to hurry after him. “For I would very much like to bring this terrible business to a conclusion so that my brother might be safe and so that I can finally consider my own future… and what might be contained within it.”
Her heart rose to the skies as she took his hand, pressing his fingers lightly as she climbed into the carriage and knowing full well that she, too, wished for the very same thing.
11
“Here!”
Stephen looked up at Miss Hawkins as she pulled something triumphantly out of a book. His heart slammed into his chest as he hurried over, seeing her hold out a piece of paper toward him.
Taking it carefully, he read the words contained within the note, his heart now dropping to the floor.
“The ball is tomorrow. Be ready,” was all that it said.
If this was Lord Forrester, then he had clearly spent some time organizing this. Miss Hawkins was pulling out more pieces of paper from other books and laying them out on the rough-hewn table just behind him.
“There are more,” she said quietly, gesturing to six pieces of paper that had only a few short words written on each. “They do not say much but there is a clear link between Thompson and Lord Forrester—if he is the one who has done all this.”
Swallowing hard, Stephen moved closer to the table, picking up one note after the other. They said very little, just as Miss Hawkins had said, and each one was a little vague.
“Look at this one.” Miss Hawkins’ voice had dropped to almost a whisper, her eyes wide as she held out what appeared to be the final note she had found. “It must speak of Mr. Thompson’s latest attempt.”
Instead of taking it from her, Stephen moved toward her, reading the note aloud.
“‘Perhaps he died in his sleep’,” he read, shuddering just a little as he realized what this meant. “Clearly, Lord Forrester intended for Thompson to be the one to do this. He himself would not want to attempt to do so again for fear of being discovered.”
Miss Hawkins nodded. “A footman is much more able to make his way into a house without being noticed,” she agreed, a slight tremble in her voice. “But did Thompson write to Lord Forrester in reply? Or did notes arrive for him with no expectation that there would be a reply?”
“How would Lord Forrester know if Thompson had been successful?” Stephen asked, only to close his eyes at his foolishness. “Of course. He is waiting to hear from myself or from someone in society that Atherton has succumbed to his injuries.”
“Precisely,” Miss Hawkins agreed, without a hint of mocking in her tone. “We know that Lord Forrester paid Thompson to do as he was bid. Therefore, if Thompson was successful in this task, surely more money would be forthcoming.”
Stephen stared down at Miss Hawkins, seeing her calm expression and slowly beginning to realize what it was she meant. “You wish me to pretend that my brother has been taken to the grave,” he said softly. “And thereafter, to…?”
“To follow Lord Forrester,” she said quietly. “We must find out from Thompson how the money is given to him and, when we have done so, perhaps Lord Haddington can pose as the footman. That way, you will have Lord Forrester unable to hide his guilt, for he will have walked directly into the light without any means of escape.”
Stephen shook his head, dropping his head and rubbing one hand across his eyes. “You, Miss Hawkins, are the most incredible young lady I have ever had the opportunity to meet,” he told her, speaking with complete honesty. “Your intelligence, wit, and sharp mind are more than admirable. I do not think I could have managed to discover the truth without you.” Not even thinking of what he was doing, he stepped forward and took her in his arms, the note fluttering to the floor. “You have been injured on account of this. You could have turned away and hidden yourself from all of this, but instead, you decided to remain by my side and puzzle things out so that I would not be alone.” Closing his eyes, he leaned forward and rested his forehead against hers, hearing her sharp intake of breath and letting himself give in to all that he felt. “I cannot let you go, Miss Hawkins.”
“I—I do not want to be given up,” she answered, her response making him smile. “Surely you must know what my brother thinks, Lord Stephen, and what I have begun to hope for.”
Opening his eyes, he looked down into her face and saw the tentative expression on her face. There was a nervousness there, a fear that he would turn away from her, but that was the very last thing he was thinking. Dropping his head, he brushed a gentle kiss across her lips, refusing to do more even though everything in him was screaming for him to do so.
“My heart hopes for the same as yours, I think,” he told her tenderly, reaching up to run his fingers across her cheek. “You are truly magnificent, Miss Hawkins, and I—”
“Julia.” Gentle eyes reached up to his, a smile on her lips as color flooded her cheeks, heightening her beauty all the more. “Please, would you not call me Julia?”
His eyes closed again as he let out a long, contented breath. “Julia,” he whispered, savoring her name on his lips. “My dear Julia, you have quite captured my heart. When the time comes, I will again take you in my arms and tell you all of what I feel and all of what I hope for.”
“I look forward to that time,” she answered, her hands pressed lightly against his chest as his heart beat furiously with the promise that was in he
r words. “For I already know what my response will be.”
To go from that to a matter of grave seriousness took some adjusting, but by the time the evening came, Stephen found himself back at his own townhouse, with Miss Hawkins waiting below stairs with Lord and Lady Haddington, Lady Catherine, and Lady Ann, as well as Miss Seymour, who had all come to his house without hesitation upon receiving his request. Those who had come had given up any prior engagement to be present and even now, Miss Hawkins was explaining to them all what they had discovered.
“Thompson.”
The room was dark save for a couple of candles. Stephen had not been cruel in how he had treated the footman, for the room had all that the man would need and he had not held back food or water from the fellow either.
“I have nothing to say,” came the grated reply as the footman rose from the bed where he had been sitting, his stance tall and almost a little foreboding in the shadows that flickered around the room. “I have told you, I will be kept safe.”
“You are mistaken,” Stephen answered quickly, injecting as much severity into his voice as he could. “You will not be kept from the consequences of your actions, Thompson. All is discovered.” Taking a step forward, he held his candle a little higher so that he could see the man’s face clearly. “You have no protector coming.”
Thompson’s face remained impassive, although Stephen was sure he detected a slight flicker in the man’s eyes.
“Lord Forrester has been discovered,” Stephen continued when the footman said nothing. “We have found the notes he sent you and, in speaking to him, the truth has been found out.” Something within him jarred as the footman narrowed his eyes, and Stephen feared that he was not being convincing enough. “Forrester is the one behind the attack upon my brother. He paid you to assist him in his endeavors, did he not?”
Thompson lifted his chin. “There is nothing for me to say.”