by Lynn Collum
There was an uncomfortable silence for a moment. Mr. Blanchett, his face etched with fatigue, struggled out of his chair and came to Jacinda. “Don’t let this business make you melancholy, child. This was your father’s doing and we shall do what we can to make it right.”
“Thank you, Uncle. I fear I have too much to do with the estate to allow myself to be blue deviled. I shall need the funds to provide for my family.”
The gentleman shot a glance at Wilkins who, strangely, gave a nod of assent. “Well, that’s not exactly true.”
“What do you mean, sir?” Her gaze followed her uncle to Thomas Wilkins.
The solicitor crossed the room and in a low voice said, “Come to the library, my dear, there are some things we need to discuss in private.”
Drew gave her hand an encouraging squeeze. “Go, I am acquainted with what the gentlemen have to say; they informed me on first arriving and I agreed with the plan. I shall see if Ben has finally gone to sleep.”
Jacinda’s nerves were on edge as she follow the two older gentlemen to her library. She’d been through so much that day, she couldn’t think what she was about to hear. Once there, Mr. Wilkins got to the point. “The foundry did burn my dear, but only a small portion was ruined. Your uncle should have it fully operational by the winter.”
Seeing the bewildered expression on Jacinda’s face, Mr. Blanchett took up the tale. “You see, Mr. Wilkins and I decided to paint a darker picture in the hopes of convincing whoever wanted your fortune there was nothing left worth killing for but the land.”
The solicitor shrugged. “As I said before, we had it all wrong. If I’d have thought this silly plan would make someone attack you, I would never have tried it, my dear. It was intended to do the opposite. I just knew from the captain’s letters that you were getting restless and perhaps a little reckless.” He arched a brow at her.
Jacinda didn’t want to think about the even more dangerous plan she’d concocted. She blinked in surprise. “I’m not penniless?”
“Not a bit, my dear.” Uncle Matthew looked sheepishly at her. “We only did what we thought would help you.”
“I know. I don’t blame you.” She tried to smile at him, but was too dazed and tired to do so properly.
Her uncle came up and hugged her. “If I am forgiven, then I shall return to London in the morning now that you are safe. Unless you want me to stay until your aunt is safely out of the manor.”
“That won’t be necessary, Uncle. I know how much you hate to leave the business.”
“As to that, Claude is overseeing things.” The old gentleman made a strangled noise in his throat. It was clear he didn’t have much faith in his son’s skills. “I shall go to bed so that I can get an early start.” He turned to the solicitor. “Are you returning to London with me, Wilkins?”
“No, I shall stay at Chettwood a few days longer. There are estate matters that I must see to. Miss Blanchett and I must make arrangements for a house in Brighton before the Deveres move. Hopefully the doctor is wrong and we might get more answers from the woman than he thinks.”
Uncle Matthew frowned. “Do you not think she was the one who hired those thugs so long ago?”
“I’m certain she did, but I would like to understand what she was thinking.”
Jacinda sighed. “I’m not certain we shall ever know why.”
Her uncle patted her shoulder. “Put it all behind you. Miss Markham tells me that you and the captain intend to make your marriage legal. Enjoy your life, my dear. Don’t dwell on what’s past. You deserve it after all you’ve been put through.” He kissed her cheek and said good night.
After he left, Mr. Wilkins came round the desk and kissed Jacinda’s cheek. “I, too, should like to wish you happy. Who would have thought it would all have ended in a love match? Delightful. In the morning I shall write my clerk to engage an agent to look for a property in Brighton once I have Dr. Camden’s direction.”
Jacinda smiled, but it slipped from her lips when guilt overcame her. How could she feel so wonderful when Prudence and her family were devastated? “The captain wants to go for a Special License tomorrow and marry at once, but I think it not—”
“Don’t delay, my dear child. Don’t let anything stop you from being happy. Besides, I should like to be here for the ceremony if it is taking place in the next few days. I do so love a good wedding cake.”
Despite herself, Jacinda laughed. “Then we shall have the wedding as soon as the captain can procure a license. I wouldn’t want you to miss the celebration.”
Mr. Blanchett and the captain left Chettwood some two hours apart the following morning. The elder gentleman departed at dawn, hoping to make London in time for his supper. Drew wanted to spend time with Jacinda, and since Mr. Wilkins had convinced him he only need go as far as Bath, where the bishop could issue the Special License he wanted because both he and Jacinda were from Somerset, he lingered until eight.
At his carriage, the captain pulled Jacinda into his arms. The embrace felt so right that she wasn’t the least embarrassed that Mr. Wilkins and her cousin Millie watched from the front drawing room window. “I shall try to be back by tonight, or tomorrow morning at the latest. Promise me you’ll stay close to the manor.”
Her brow crinkled. “But I thought the danger was past. Everyone says so.”
He brushed back a curl the wind tugged across her cheek. “True, but we might never know for certain unless your aunt’s condition improves. I don’t want you riding alone. I have asked Mr. Wilkins and Weems to watch out for you ladies. Promise me you won’t stray far.”
“But what about estate matters, I—”
“Nothing is so critical that it cannot wait until I return. I won’t consider you completely safe until I have a ring on your finger.”
Jacinda started to protest that she could take care of herself, but she knew that was foolish. If not for Drew she wouldn’t be here enjoying life. Besides, he would be back in a day’s time. “I promise. If Cousin Millie has her way, we will be in the chapel, which she swears has not seen a duster in twenty years.”
Drew laughed and kissed her, then climbed into the carriage. He tipped his hat to the solicitor and Cousin Millie, who waved, then the captain drove away. Jacinda stayed on the drive and watched until his carriage disappeared from view. She was surprised by how much she already missed him. With a sigh she decided to go up and see how Ben was getting along.
The lad was restless and wanting out of bed, but Dr. Fleetwood had insisted that he remain quiet for the day. Jacinda extracted a promise that he would stay in his room by promising him two servings of cake after the wedding.
“You are marrying the captain.” Ben’s eyes shone.
Jacinda blushed. “I am.”
“I knew he was a capital fellow.” He scrambled from the bed to hug her but his knee reminded him he was hurt, so she came and hugged him. Giving him several books she’d gleaned from her father’s collection, he settled down to enjoy the day as best as such an active boy could in bed.
Despite her cousin’s desire for a discreet ceremony, the household was in a flutter of wedding preparations when she came downstairs. Cousin Millie had informed them of the news that a proper ceremony would be performed in the chapel, but not a word about it was to be mentioned outside the walls of Chettwood. Most being longtime servants, they asked no questions. They were only elated at the prospect of a family party that the lady had promised would include the servants. A Special License marriage it might be, but Miss Markham insisted they not stint on the arrangements. For Jacinda, all that mattered was that she and Drew would be together, so she allowed her cousin full reign.
The remainder of Jacinda’s morning was spent with the parlor maids in the chapel, directing the cleaning, while Millie drove into Westbury to arrange for the vicar’s services. Later, there was the menu for the wedding breakfast to be planned. Cook wanted to go all out, but Jacinda insisted it be simple. That evening after supper, when Mr. Wilkins
could hardly keep his eyes open after the week’s excitement and retired early, Jacinda and her cousin chose a gown from her new wardrobe for a wedding dress. It was a simple white silk gown worked with gold thread at the bodice, sleeves, and hem. The tulle overskirt was worked with tiny gold flowers.
Jacinda’s only disappointment with the day was that Drew hadn’t made it back before dark. As she finished undressing for bed a knock sounded on her door. Martha opened the door to Prudence, who looked as if she hadn’t had a wink of sleep in two days. Neither she nor Giles had joined the family for meals all day and Jacinda hadn’t objected. She knew they both had a great deal to comprehend. Prudence was clutching a small book, which Jacinda thought might be a bible.
Guilt resurfaced. Jacinda dismissed Martha as she asked her half-sister to come inside. All the fuss about her wedding had kept Jacinda from going to see how her aunt had been.
Prudence hesitated a moment, then said, “I came to apologize. I know now that everything you said about my mother last night was true.”
“How is Aunt Devere?” It was strange but she had never referred to her aunt by her first name her entire life, preferring instead the more formal address.
Prudence shook her head. “I don’t think she will ever speak again after the horrid things she’s done. You may not think it, but I do assure you she has a conscience. I believe that was what drove her over the edge both today and so long ago.”
Jacinda took her sister’s hand and gave it a comforting squeeze. “I’m so sorry.”
A ghost of a smile flitted over Prudence’s pale face. She held out the book. “I’ve been reading the journal that she’s kept all these years. At one point she thought herself in love with your father. It all went so very wrong when she discovered herself ... with child. My father, that is ... Mr. Devere ... hadn’t been home in months, so she knew the truth. She was forced to go to Town and see her husband to make him think I was his.” Her voice grew shaky and Jacinda moved closer and put her arm around her sister.
Jacinda led Prudence to a sofa, where they sat in silence for a few minutes before Prudence continued. “After Devere died Mother applied to his brother, the viscount, for assistance, but he refused. He’d guessed the truth about Mama and Mr. Blanchett. She was forced to come here and ask for help and your mother insisted that they take us in. It’s unclear whether Mrs. Blanchett knew the truth.”
Jacinda wondered if her own mother had known that the little red-haired girl had Blanchett blood in her veins. It made her proud to think her mother had been such a good woman, to take in someone who’d done her a wrong. She bit her lip a moment before she asked the sensitive question. “Does your mother mention my father’s murder?”
Prudence put the book in Jacinda’s lap. “If you read the journal, you can have little doubt that mother was behind the plot. By the time you were twelve, she hated your father excessively. She was livid when he started making arrangements for your ‘grand marriage, ’ as she refers to it. It’s a bit incoherent for a few days after she heard about his approaching Baron Rowland. There are threats and vows of vengeance. I’m sorry.”
“You mustn’t feel guilty. This is old history. You had nothing to do with what happened. You are as much a victim as I. I can only tell you that I’m delighted to have a sister, but if you prefer that we not tell the world, I shall understand.”
Prudence’s chin lifted, her eyes took on a defiant stare. “I don’t give a fig what the world thinks.” She leaned in and hugged Jacinda. “I must warn you that Giles is rather upset that this will get out. He is hoping to make an advantageous marriage and fears Mother’s scandal will blight his chances.”
It pained Jacinda to admit to herself that she didn’t like Giles, but for Prudence’s sake she would do what was best for her cousin. “Then we shall keep this among the family.”
The ladies sat and talked for over an hour about what plans were being made for Mrs. Devere and for Prudence and Giles. At ten o’clock, Prudence excused herself, saying she intended to look in on her mother before she retired.
By the time Jacinda crawled into bed that evening, she’d gone a long way toward forming a bond with Prudence. As she closed her eyes to sleep she smiled, knowing she would see Drew on the morrow and that the whole world would be right.
CHAPTER NINE
A noise woke Jacinda a little after midnight. She sat up and listened. Had Drew returned home so late? Eager to see him, she slipped from bed and grabbed her wrapper. As she slid into the lace-trimmed garment, a door creaked down the hall. But it was in the opposite direction from Drew’s room. Curious who would be up and about at this hour, she opened her door. The hallway was in darkness. Worried that her aunt might have taken a turn for the worse, she stepped back into her room and lit a candle. She would wake Prudence if Aunt Devere needed assistance, for it was clear that the lady wouldn’t wish Jacinda’s presence, even in her current state.
With the candleholder firmly in hand, she made her way down the hall. She rounded the corner and halted in surprise. Aunt Devere’s door stood wide open. How could that be? Even the servants had been told it must be locked. Slowly Jacinda edged to the doorway. The lone candle’s light barely penetrated the room. She stepped inside, making her way to her aunt’s bed. She lifted the candle. The covers were tossed back and the bed was empty.
Worry filled her as she searched the four corners of the dark room. Her aunt was loose somewhere in the manor. It was frightening to think that the lady might try to do someone harm. Jacinda hurried into the hall, heading for her sister’s room. She pounded on Prudence’s door but got no response. About to open the door, a noise echoed down the hall, grabbing her attention. Thinking it might be the ladies, Jacinda moved toward the sound.
Even as she searched, her mind raced. Who had left the door unlocked? Prudence, Giles, or a servant? Out of the darkness a hand suddenly clamped over Jacinda’s mouth as an arm crushed her against a masculine body. The candle flew from her hand and snuffed out when the holder clattered to the rug. In the darkness, the smell of leather, tobacco, and brandy filled her nose. She couldn’t move.
A familiar voice growled in her ear. “I’ll get my revenge, once and for all, and everyone will blame crazy Aunt Devere.” A deep chuckle sounded. “And there’s nothing you or your captain can do to stop me this time.”
Before she could do anything, a sharp pain pierced her temple. In her mind she screamed Drew’s name before she tumbled headlong into blackness.
Drew pushed his cattle down the dark road from Westbury. Thankfully, the moon was full and the road lay before him like a white ribbon on dark cloth. It had taken him until almost two o’clock that afternoon to track down the bishop in Bath. Then the clergy had insisted they return to his office for the proper documents and seals. Perhaps it was foolish, but he’d decided to return to Chettwood that very night. He couldn’t wait to make Jacinda his bride. He didn’t understand why, but he wouldn’t feel his love was safe until he was able to give her his name without pretense.
The gates of Chettwood were a welcome sight. He drove his horses through and headed straight for the stables. Within ten minutes, he had the animals out of their traces and in stalls, having decided not to wake any of the grooms. He closed the stable doors and made his way to the house.
Drew patted his pocket with the ring he’d bought for Jacinda. A smile came to him. He would explain to her that his father had long ago sold the family betrothal ring, so he’d been forced to buy a new one. He had chosen a bold design of emeralds and diamonds that reminded him of her. He stepped into the rose garden and stopped. Movement caught his eye on the upper floor. The flickering of light played through the slit in the curtain. Who was up so late?
To his disbelief, the curtains suddenly burst into flames. Someone’s room was on fire. In the darkness he couldn’t tell which, but he had little doubt who was the target. Drew raced to the house and hammered on the locked door. It seemed like hours before a bleary-eyed footman unlocked th
e door but in fact it was only minutes.
Drew ran past him, shouting, “There’s fire upstairs! Summon help!” He didn’t wait to see what the footman did. He had to get to Jacinda’s room. He threw open her door and stared at silent darkness.
“Jacinda?” He called to her but there was no answer. Her room wasn’t on fire, but she wasn’t in her bed. Fear twisted in his gut.
He ran down the hall looking for light under a doorway. He turned at the end of the hall and saw the soft glow of light on the hall rug. The smell of smoke was faint but distinct.
Drew ran full tilt and threw open the door. The curtain and bed hangings in the room were in flames. A pile of clothing burned in front of the wardrobe. To Drew’s amazement, Thomas Wilkins lay in the bed, his nightcap covering one eye as he snored like a foghorn. Drew ran to the old gentleman and tried to wake him.
“Sir! Sir! Mr. Wilkins!” Drew shouted over the crackle of the flames. Still the old gentleman slept on. Drew spied a glass on the table and sniffed it.
Footsteps sounded in the hall. Stritch and the footmen appeared at the door with buckets of water. Drew shouted, “We must move him, I think he’d been drugged.”
The men used their buckets of water on the curtains while the butler and Drew lifted the sleeping man and moved him into the hallway.
“Where is Miss Blanchett? She’s not in her room.”
Stritch shook his head. “I don’t know, sir. She retired early with her cousin. I think it was something to do with choosing a wedding dress from her wardrobe.”
Drew stared back into the room while the footmen struggled to contain the blaze. Someone intended to kill Mr. Wilkins. How easy would it have been to kill two birds with one stone? Drew stepped back into the room. It was only Wilkins’s clothes smoldering now. Drew’s gaze lifted to the closed wardrobe where the clothing had been stored. He kicked the pile aside and yanked open the door. Jacinda was stuffed inside, her hands and feet bound, a gag over her mouth. She leaned forward. He quickly undid the strip of cloth that bound her mouth.