Lady Jayne Disappears

by Joanna Davidson Politano

  He carried an emotional culmination into a glorious ending, resting his fingertips on the keys as the sound swept over the room and receded like a wave. The sudden applause startled me, and I drew my hand off Silas’s and jerked my gaze back toward the audience. A few in the back stood. With a quick, awkward head bow, Silas stood from the bench, twining his fingers through mine and squeezing my hand for a brief second before slipping away without a backward look. On shaky limbs, I also stood and walked into the audience without a bow, this time finding a seat. No wall would be enough to hold me upright at this point. My insides trembled like raisin pudding.

  Just before I collapsed into a chair, I caught sight of Nelle in the shadows just beyond the doorway, watching the affair with rapt attention, fist to her mouth and tears in her eyes. Had she been happy to see the man she cared for helping me? Or was she afraid of losing him to me?

  I should reassure her that it would not happen. But in the afterglow of the beautiful duo, I wasn’t sure I could find the words to actually promise such a thing. I closed my eyes and breathed, white-knuckling the edges of my hard chair.

  Best not to think of it at all. I had been wrong before. What if Nelle did not even think of Silas that way? What if I would never care for Lord Sutherland? If only I knew anything for certain—besides the fact that I deeply loved Silas Rotherham.

  25

  Lady Jayne dearly loved believing all surprises to be good things, but the older she grew, the more the opposite proved true.

  ~Nathaniel Droll, Lady Jayne Disappears

  Whenever Juliette’s eyes sparkled, it meant danger. That much I knew for sure. The girl had circulated among the guests, talking to each person individually. Keeping to my word, I had watched her throughout the night, but nothing had been amiss. Until now, that is. Jasper Grupp slipped into the room and handed his hat to Digory in one smooth move. With eyes glittering dangerously, the girl glanced at Jasper in a flutter of lashes, then returned to whomever she talked to, her eyelashes touching her cheeks.

  Jasper returned her glimpses, a smile snaking over his face. A few times the glances lingered, a secret code passing between them. Juliette held her closed fan to her cheek, tapping absently as she talked to another man. Then the fan tapped her rosy lips as they curved into a smile. Frowning, I moved through the crowd toward her.

  Juliette swayed just ahead of me, gliding toward her mother, and laid a hand on the bejeweled woman’s powder-white arm.

  “I have a surprise for you, Mother. One you’ll love.”

  Glenna pivoted to evaluate her. “It had better not include the name ‘Jasper Grupp.’”

  “Oh, but it does.” Her pinched-lip smile sealed the words.

  My heart drummed against my ribs. I swallowed. Was it time? Should I say something? This would be it. I had to speak up right now, before they announced their engagement.

  Dear Lord, give me strength. I claim the promise from James chapter 1 and ask you for wisdom. But what on earth would you have me do, Father?

  Just then Lord Sutherland slid himself between me and the mother-daughter pair. “I had no idea you were such an accomplished young woman. Have you learned to play the piano on your own, as well?”

  Frustrated at the intrusion, I bit my lip. “I have never in my life had a piano instructor.” The deceptive truth slipped out of my tense mind.

  “Outstanding.” His eyes shone. “I have a Steinway at my home, gathering a rather impressive layer of dust in an unused parlor. I would be honored to have you come and dust those keys for me with your beautiful songs. I’m positive my mother would be astounded beyond words to hear you play.”

  As would I. “Thank you for the kind invitation, but I’m truly not a pianist.” The words rang in my ears as false modesty, but I couldn’t help it. What else could I say without tangling myself in further deceptions?

  Lord Sutherland persisted, the sight of his handsome face tickling my stomach as he leaned close again, speaking intimately as one who had known me for years. “You must know I want to see you again. Would you allow it?”

  “As long as you require only my company, and not a piano recital.”

  A realization passed through my mind as a fleeting thought amid the tension and fear—Lord Sutherland and I were not of the same world. If we married, as Juliette certainly intended, I would be a constant fake.

  But was I not already that?

  “You have a bargain, fair lady. Although I will not promise I’ll never again request to hear your lovely music.”

  Silas couldn’t keep his gaze from drifting in quick sips to Aurelie. Even surrounded by a flock of guests, the girl looked utterly alone. The pallor of her face, and the expression—was it fear?—gave her the look of a lost child.

  Don’t worry. I will watch out for you.

  The Lord had placed the girl in his path for her protection, of that he was certain. That awareness drove him to keep her always in his peripheral vision every day, even as she moved about the house in relative safety.

  And then there was Mr. Grupp. Who was he that Aurelie disliked him so much? When the man separated himself from the others to retrieve a drink from the side table, Silas approached and lifted a crystal goblet for himself. “I don’t believe I know you, sir.”

  Grupp whipped his head toward Silas, surprise in his eyes as if he had not expected anyone to talk to him. “Jasper Grupp, friend of the family.”

  “Silas Rotherham. Unofficial escort of the hostess, Miss Juliette Gaffney.”

  “Are you, now?” The man riveted his full attention to Silas then, turning his whole body and assessing him critically. The scar in his eyebrow twitched. “And here I thought you belonged to Miss Harcourt.”

  “I am merely watching out for a woman alone in the world.”

  “That one can watch out for herself—believe me.” His nostrils flared as he lowered his eyes. “She always has.”

  “You’ve known her a long time?” Silas wasn’t sure why this should surprise him.

  “A hundred thousand stories’ worth of time.”

  Silas frowned as the sentence caught him off-guard, resonating with a recently resurrected memory. But what memory?

  Jasper met his gaze then, searching. “Has she told you nothing about our history? You mustn’t be very close if she’s never mentioned me.”

  “She’s said very little of you.”

  “I suppose she would. She has a terrible habit of overstating her good traits and conveniently forgetting the bad. She did not end our acquaintance on very good terms, you see.”

  He made Aurelie sound nearly dishonest.

  When Jasper looked away, Silas followed his gaze to Juliette, who motioned from across the room with tiny jerks of her head and a coquettish smile.

  “If you’ll pardon me, I must go and make an announcement. Quite a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Mr. . . .”

  “Rotherham. And likewise.”

  The man parted the crowds and strode across the room toward the grand staircase, leaving Silas to ponder the “history” he shared with Aurelie. The vague mention left too much to the imagination, and after a lifetime of reading, Silas possessed far too much imagination.

  Ah, Tempest and Trouble! That’s where I heard those words. It was a Nathaniel Droll line.

  As the man took to the stairs, his arms raised to gain the attention of the crowd, his odd words from before, and the vague tie to Droll, unsettled everything Silas thought he knew.

  There stood Jasper on the stairs, tall and proud. My stomach churned and I glanced about for Silas or Garamond—for that is who I had decided to alert. But Jasper’s gaze caught mine and pinned me to the spot with the slightest smile and narrowed eyes, trapping me there. Why couldn’t I move? He had cast a sort of spell over my brain. His look told me he’d already won.

  He raised his arms. Why was Juliette not with him? Wouldn’t they announce their engagement together?

  “Friends, I want to thank you for the pleasure of this time togeth
er. I’ve met most of you, and have enjoyed—well, some of you.”

  A light chuckle pattered through the crowd as conversations faded and the guests turned to face the stairs. What a fake—he even spoke like one of them now.

  “I have an important secret to share, and I’ve decided to bring it to you first, since you are the finest in Bristol society. I’m pleased to tell you that you are now gazing upon the one and only . . . Nathaniel Droll.”

  Gasps arose from the crowd. Low murmuring ensued. I grabbed my throat, my breath catching. No, no, no. My mind screamed. Throbbed.

  How dare he?

  How dare he?

  I pinned him with a look, channeling the anger inside me toward him in one powerful glare, but he did not see it. His countenance, alight with pride, swept over the well-dressed gentlemen and ladies who looked up to him. Murmurs and clinking punch glasses filled the momentary silence.

  “Yes, it’s true. I have kept myself anonymous for years to maintain a normal life, but I’ve recently been encouraged to make myself known. So there you have it, everyone. And I am pleased to make your acquaintance.” With a bow, he descended the steps again into an eager throng of guests. Questions alighted from the people nearest him and conversation swelled to a heavy volume.

  Juliette remained on the fringes, fan tapping her open palm. The smug look of victory said that this moment was to her a validating landmark. Several men toasted Jasper Grupp with loud cheers and sloshing glasses.

  Rage boiled. My long fingernails cut into the delicate skin of my upper arm. What would I do now? What could I do?

  That fiend.

  Anger pulsed over me with each thudding beat of my heart, exploding through my mind. Across the room and beyond the crowds, Juliette found me and winked. I met her look but couldn’t smile. Aloneness wrapped itself around my middle and squeezed until I could scarcely breathe.

  Speeding toward a quiet corner, I nearly collided with Silas. He jerked his glass up high to avoid spilling lemon water on me.

  “Mr. Rotherham.” All other words escaped me.

  “Miss Harcourt. You look flushed. Are you well?”

  “Quite well, thank you.” Focus. Calm. Mask in place. Chin up, shoulders back, I forced my best smile forward. “And may I offer you congratulations on completing your mission. You now know the identity of Nathaniel Droll.”

  Considering his water glass, then me again, he smiled. “No indeed, Miss Harcourt. I’m not sure I do.” Tipping his glass to me in a parting gesture, he slid into the mass of well-dressed guests, becoming simply another black-suited man at the party.

  Not my rescuer this time.

  When Jasper wove through the remaining guests toward the balcony, I followed him. Whipping aside the curtains with trembling hands, I grabbed his arm with the full force of my anger. “Jasper! What were you thinking?” I ached to shove him over the rail. It would barely hurt him at this height.

  “I was thinking I needed to save my hide, after you so kindly roasted it for me.” He dusted his shiny hat and tucked it under his arm. “You left me in a rather awkward position when you hinted to Miss Gaffney about my upbringing. I needed to offer her some explanation as to why I’d risen above my childhood, and it had an even greater effect on her than I’d hoped. We were carried away one day, and she convinced me that I should tell the world my grand secret.”

  “You promised.” Anger curled through me. “We made a deal, and you broke it. I want that money back.” It had obviously been spent on his suit of clothes already, but I didn’t care.

  “Our deal was that I would never reveal you to be Nathaniel Droll.” Dark eyes sparked at me from the shadows veiling his face. “You tell me how I broke that promise, and I’ll repay every farthing.”

  Heat burned behind my eyes. “You are despicable, Jasper Grupp. Do you have any idea what you’ve done?” Weeks of fear and anxiety all swirled together, solidifying into the form of the skinny man before me.

  “I haven’t hurt you, Aura dear. Not yet.” He stroked my bare arm, running one fingertip along its smooth surface. Chills rose along its path. “I’ve only had a little fun with you. Made things difficult, as you’ve done for me so often.”

  “All those girls deserved to know the truth. I don’t regret warning them about you.”

  He smiled, tilting his head. “You shall, my dear.” He flipped his hat back onto his head and bowed. “Now, I should slip away from my adoring fans.” With an easy leap, he cleared the rail and landed in the grass a half story below. One last lift of his hat and he moved forward, merging with the dark.

  I stared until I couldn’t see him. Where was my rescue now? The inky night felt devoid of everything good, even God. I had no plan, no desire to write, and no help from anyone.

  26

  It was her beauty and wit that drew people into her life, but her intentional love for the downcast that made them remain.

  ~Nathaniel Droll, Lady Jayne Disappears

  Silas Rotherham strode with purpose through the courtyard at Shepton Mallet Prison, which was lightly populated with a few tired inmates. A door banged, sending a cloister of doves up from the eaves with pleasant thwacks and coos. He hadn’t been sure when he’d left the house that morning what had prompted him to go there, other than the unnerving weight on his mind after Jasper Grupp’s surprise. That announcement, as well as the man’s words about Aurelie’s character and past, had ignited a host of doubts that had never before occurred to him. Lying would not be out of the realm of possibility for the girl. She was, after all, a master storyteller.

  Then, in the dark of night in his lonely bedchamber, questions had surfaced. Questions about years of royalty money and the plausibility of a prison inmate penning famous novels.

  But as foolish as he’d felt then for missing the holes in her story, he felt even more so now for doubting the word of the girl he knew to be unusually pure and good, one immune to normalcy. This visit, and the talks he’d had with Rosa and the others, had only proven what he already knew. He hadn’t answered his burning questions, but he’d learned several facts on this trip.

  First, that Aurelie had been the same girl at Shepton Mallet that she was at Lynhurst. Despite her storytelling nature, every inch of the girl breathed sincerity and truth that left his doubts of her character utterly unfounded. Second, she often left the prison to run errands, as she was not a prisoner herself, giving her ample opportunity to post installments of Nathaniel Droll novels for whoever wrote them. And last, Aurelie had not exaggerated the state of the prisons, or the wicked schemes of the jailer to profit off his inmates. Only a few shillings stood between so many prisoners and their freedom, an easy amount to manage.

  And for some, Silas would manage it that very day.

  “Hello there!” he called as he reached the gatehouse.

  The wiry man swung out, holding on to the bars, tattered coattails flying out after him. “Hello there, gov’nor. Find everything you need?”

  “I’d like to discuss a few inmates with you.” Walking among the prisoners Aurelie cared so greatly about had drawn out his protective side in a powerful way, spurring him into action. They required so little, and were given even less. “I’ve come across several men whose debts are to establishments no longer in business. Can you tell me why they’ve not been released?”

  Confusion creased his pale brow. “Well, you can’t go releasing a debtor just because. He still owes the money, even if there’s no one to take it from ’im.”

  “All right, then what if you took it?”

  He blinked.

  “Let me see the prisoner log, please.”

  His whiskered face shuttered. “Are you an inspector from Her Majesty, then?”

  He smiled. “No, sir. Just Silas Rotherham, ordinary man of business.”

  The man returned with a long book, pages curled back to the most current one. Leafing through, Silas selected a handful of inmates with whom he’d already spoken—those he felt could flourish if restored to freed
om. Marks went beside their names.

  “I’d like to talk to you about clearing a few debts. The ones noted in pencil there.” He extended the book back to the man. “Starting with Rosa Clemens from cell block 38.”

  In an entire day at the Mallet, Silas hadn’t attained nearly all the answers he’d hoped for, but what he had discovered proved more than sufficient. Questions still loomed about Nathaniel Droll’s true identity, Aurelie’s past with Jasper, and a host of other things. All he knew for certain was that if Aurelie told him that day that she were Nathaniel Droll and Grupp the imposter, he’d do anything in his power to convince the rest of the world of this as well, no questions asked.

  Hours later, Silas Rotherham strode out of the gates of Shepton Mallet Prison, arm in arm with Rosa, and loaded her into the Lynhurst carriage. Together they watched from the shadows of a beech tree as eleven prisoners and their families straggled out of the gates, stumbling and gazing around as if they’d forgotten how to operate in the real world. One man paused, smiling face upturned, and stretched his arms up to receive the sunlight shining down on him outside the walls while his children chased each other around his legs. Silas had given the ratty little guard the equivalent of the price of a suit—a suit—for the pleasure of this moment.

  He’d have paid ten times that.

  As the families fanned out in different directions into Glen Cora, Silas solidified his resolve that this was only the beginning. He breathed deeply and settled back against the leather seat until the newly released families disappeared into their new lives.

  And then they were on their way, the carriage lurching forward over the rough street. It seemed fitting to ride off into the sunset with his rescued lady by his side. Rosa, having no immediate place to go, had been carted off with Silas. Another fact he’d learned from this visit was that the woman across from him possessed an amazing talent in fine sewing, which had given him a most fabulous idea. He thanked God silently for his sovereignty in fitting together every piece of the puzzle, and for using Silas to bring it about.