“Yes, miss. But there was no need.”
Lizzie gaped at her. “You knew?”
“Well, I didn’t know who you were exactly, but I was ready to wager you wasn’t Miss Ria.” She studied Lizzie. “When you first arrived in London, all sick with fever, it was me that got you out of that filthy dress and cleaned you up. Do you remember?”
Lizzie nodded, remembering how she had woken up in a clean nightdress and been overtaken with worry about what had become of the bracelet.
“As I was tending to you,” Martha continued, “I discovered something peculiar. A large scar on your right knee, what had been there from your tree-climbing days as a child, was completely gone.”
Lizzie knew that scar; she had seen it while attending Ria at childbirth. “How astonishing that you should remember that, Martha.”
Martha gave a little nod of her head. “I said to myself, what a wondrous place Australia must be, if it can completely heal such a nasty scar.”
“But you didn’t really believe that, did you?”
“No, but it got me thinking.”
Lizzie recalled Martha’s early admonitions that Lizzie should take care not to hurt Lady Thornborough. “I did wonder, Martha, if you suspected something.”
“I was watching you carefully, to be sure,” Martha acknowledged. “But it was not my place to say anything. As time went by, Lady Thornborough was so happy with you that I was glad I held my tongue. There are stranger things in heaven and earth, I said to myself. It was possible the scar really had healed.”
Lizzie smiled with gratitude, her eyes blurring with tears. “Ria always said you were the most wonderful woman in the world.”
Martha showed a gap-toothed grin. “It’s a good thing her ladyship ain’t here. I would hate for her to hear you say that.”
The mention of Lady Thornborough sobered Lizzie quickly. “Do you know why she has gone to London?”
“She told me there were details regarding Mr. Hightower’s death to attend to, as well as other legal matters.”
Other legal matters. That had an ominous sound. “She must be furious over what has happened. Perhaps she plans to bring the authorities back for me.”
Lizzie half expected Martha to bolster her with another round of reassurances, but the servant’s face was suddenly impassive. “I don’t know what she intends to do. Of course, she would not be confiding her plans to me.”
“Did she leave any word for me?” Lizzie asked hopefully. “A note, perhaps?”
Martha shook her head.
“How about—Lord Somerville?” She had to ask, although she could guess the answer.
Martha gave her a sympathetic smile. “They had to leave very quickly. There was no time to write a letter. I’m sure we will be hearing something soon.”
But Martha’s prediction was unfulfilled. No letter appeared. With each passing day, Lizzie grew more worried. She kept calling to mind the fact that Geoffrey had returned to Rosewood, perhaps to see her, and that he had fought Freddie valiantly for her. But the slim reassurance she gleaned from these facts could not outweigh what now appeared to be a stony silence.
The lack of contact from Lady Thornborough was equally distressing. Perhaps she was planning to do more than merely toss Lizzie out of her home. Perhaps she was even now arranging legal recourse against her. Every hour brought Lizzie closer to what she had begun to think of as the day of reckoning.
She reminded herself that she should concentrate on regaining her health. She would need it soon, regardless of what happened. But she could only sit, hour after hour, fretting over the mistakes she had made and the hurt she had caused. Oh, Ria, she found herself murmuring many times, why did I agree to your request? But in the end she had only herself to blame. She had known, but had never once admitted to herself, that this plan would be folly.
After a week of such thoughts, she finally came round to remembering the vow she had made that, from this time forward, she would strive to live honestly and virtuously. She called to mind the comment Rev. Greene had made many years ago—that the Lord would forgive those convicts if they sought Him. Might He not do the same for her? Even if, as the captain had wryly pointed out, men did not forgive. Dear Lord, you are the searcher of hearts, the great healer. I will trust in you. Her heart’s burden seemed to ease a little as she prayed.
She had barely reached “Amen” when she heard the sound of a carriage on the drive. She ran to the window, anxious to set everything straight, to do anything in her power to make amends.
She opened the window in time to see James helping Lady Thornborough out of the carriage. James looked up and, seeing her at the window, signaled for her to stay where she was. She held her breath, waiting for Geoffrey to step out of the carriage, longing to see him again. But the footman closed the carriage door, and the carriage pulled out of the drive. There were no other passengers. Her heart, which had begun to lighten only moments before, now sank in disappointment.
When James finally appeared at the parlor door, she rose and ran to him, breathless with a thousand questions. “James, what is happening? Will Lady Thornborough not speak to me?”
“Calm yourself, my girl,” James said cheerily. “Auntie needs time to rest, that’s all. The train ride has taken a toll on both her nerves and her creaky old joints.”
“Where is Geoffrey? Is he well? Does he—”
“All these questions about everyone else,” James interrupted, pretending to look hurt. “Are you not glad to see me?”
Lizzie took a deep breath, genuinely chastened. “How right you are, James. I must apologize to you, too. What I did was terribly wrong. I took advantage of your goodwill.”
“I think it is I who should be apologizing to you,” James said. “If I had spoken to you sooner—really spoken to you, I mean—your nasty encounter with Freddie might have been avoided.”
It took a moment for these words to sink in. Her eyes widened. “Did you know I wasn’t Ria? How long have you known?”
“Why don’t we sit down,” James admonished, leading her to a chair. “You look very pale. Although I understand that is the fashion for young ladies, I must say it does not suit you.”
She sank into the chair, and James took another nearby. “Now let us talk freely,” he said. “You are not the only one who can pull the wool over someone’s eyes, Miss Lizzie Poole. When I told you I was going out to tend to some business, I was, in fact, taking my horse as quickly as I could to Geoffrey’s estate. You see, by then I had concluded that you were not Ria.”
How had he guessed—what had confirmed it? Lizzie thought back to their discussion before James had left, and realized the answer. “The duets,” she said.
James grinned. “Precisely. I made up that tale to see if you would fall into my little trap. You did, and very nicely, too. I can’t even play the scales, much less a duet.”
Lizzie shook her head in disbelief. “Yet you said nothing.”
“I decided the most important thing was to bring Geoffrey back to Rosewood so that we could all sit down and discuss the matter together. I did not know that Freddie was at that same time setting things up so that you and he could have a private little tête-à-tête.”
“He set it up?”
“Yes.” James’s expression was solemn. “He thought I was still in Hampshire with the Cardingtons. He arranged a meeting in London with Aunt Thornborough to draw her away from here. He did not, needless to say, keep that appointment.”
“I can hardly believe she agreed to meet him,” Lizzie said. “How did he convince her?”
James shrugged. “I will let Aunt Thornborough tell you about the particulars.”
“You mean… she plans to speak to me?”
“Of course!” He slanted a look at her. “I will be honest with you—she was deeply hurt when Geoffrey filled her in on who you were, and when we had to tell her about Ria’s fate.”
“I wanted to tell her myself,” Lizzie said sadly. “I had every intent
ion of doing it. I wanted to explain things properly.”
“I believe you. You will have time to do that, don’t you worry. Auntie does not plan to have you thrown into prison just yet.”
His words gave Lizzie comfort, as they were meant to do. Lizzie’s fears returned to Geoffrey. “Geoffrey isn’t in trouble over Freddie’s death, I hope? I have heard talk of an autopsy, and even an inquest.”
“There was an autopsy,” James confirmed. “But the matter ended there.”
“But how can that be?” Lizzie asked, still unwilling to believe it.
“The autopsy brought to light some information that changed the probable cause of death. Freddie had an internal disease, you see. His health was not as sound as one might have guessed by looking at him. The fall merely exacerbated an already fatal state of affairs. The coroner was of the opinion that even without the fall, Freddie’s liver would have killed him within six months.”
“His liver?” Lizzie thought of the smell she had detected when he attacked her. It was the indication of heavy, habitual drinking. When she and Freddie had been together in Europe, his drinking had seemed only occasionally excessive. It must have since become far worse. Lizzie thought back to her recent encounters with Freddie in London, realizing that never once had he appeared entirely sober. Worse, he had been a vicious drunk, as Lizzie had painfully experienced. “I cannot say I am surprised, although it seems cruel to say so, now that he is dead.”
“You speak only the truth,” James said. “I must confess it has been an important lesson for me. We were friends for many years, yet I refused to acknowledge how he was changing. He had not always been so foul-natured and cynical.”
“Yes, I know,” Lizzie murmured.
James lifted an eyebrow. “So you did know him before? You were the woman he took to Europe?”
“Yes.” Lizzie was not going to shirk the truth now. “And now you know the whole shameful truth about me. I was nothing but a rich man’s dalliance. As my mother had been before me.”
Her words were filled with bitter self-reproach. But James did not offer either rebuke or pity. He simply said after a few moments’ reflection, “Do you know, I believe Freddie’s better qualities began to fall away at about the same time he was forced home from Europe and into a marriage he did not want. It was a harsh awakening to the fiscal realities of life.”
His observation made Lizzie wonder if perhaps Freddie had once loved her after all. Suppose, as James was quietly suggesting, he had not wanted to give her up but had been unwilling to risk his financial security. Lizzie could see how such a decision might cause resentment to grow like a cancer, eventually obliterating whatever decency he had possessed. “Money will always trump true love, will it not?” she said sourly.
“In his case, yes.” Seeing Lizzie’s bleak expression, James reached out to gently tilt her chin upward. “Don’t you start down that road of thought, young lady. I believe life has better things in store for you.”
“You always see the bright side of things, don’t you, James?”
“Oh, yes. Anything else is a dreadful waste of energy.”
Lizzie managed a smile, and braved a question she’d been wanting to ask. “James, were you with Freddie on the night of the duel?”
“So it was a duel, then,” James said. “I always suspected as much. How quaintly old-fashioned.”
“But you weren’t there?”
“Me? No. The season was over by then, and Aunt had dragged me to Rosewood to oversee some repairs. I believe it was Richard Spencer who was with him. But everything was so hushed up that I’m not even sure of that.”
“I’m so glad it wasn’t you.”
“Me, too, my girl, me, too. How extraordinary that it was you Freddie ran off with,” James mused. “If I had met you then, seen your incredible resemblance to Ria, everything might have turned out quite differently.”
“Thank you, James. For giving me back at least a shred of my self-respect. No matter what happens now, I will always be grateful to you.”
“I’ll hold you to that,” he said with a grin.
Chapter 39
James escorted Lizzie to the downstairs parlor. Lady Thornborough sat stiff and regal in her high-backed chair, looking as though she were the Queen herself. She regarded Lizzie severely. Without preamble she said, “You have lied to me, Lizzie Poole.”
Lizzie bowed her head. “Yes. I humbly beg your pardon. There is no excuse for what I have done, but I—”
“You think you can simply request my forgiveness, and then it is done?”
Lizzie stole a glance at Lady Thornborough. Her face was stern and unyielding. “I have no right to ask forgiveness,” Lizzie said. “But I want you to know that I did it for Ria’s sake.” Seeing the look of pain on Lady Thornborough’s face, she hastily added, “Ria asked me to come here. I was determined to be a good granddaughter to you. I told myself I had good reason to do what I did, but I see now that I was wrong.”
“Are you truly repentant,” Lady Thornborough asked, “or do you merely regret having been caught?”
Lizzie lifted her head. This accusation she could, and would, answer with all sincerity. “I do not regret that the truth has come out. I am glad of it. My only regret is that I have hurt you. I have grown to love you, you see.” Lizzie’s heart felt raw as she laid it bare before the woman.
“Lord Somerville informs me that you were quite adamant about your perceived connection to this family.”
“Yes. I still am. But I make no claims. I deserve nothing after the way I betrayed your trust.”
There was a very loud silence after Lizzie spoke these words.
At last Lady Thornborough said, “You do not try to justify yourself?”
“Clearly I strayed far from the right path, and from my best intentions. However, I am determined to live honestly from this day forward, and that includes accepting all responsibility for what I have done. I ask for no pity, for I know I do not deserve it.”
“It is true that you deserve no pity,” Lady Thornborough said, her voice still hard.
Lizzie braced herself. They could send her off in chains right now, and she would be satisfied that at least she had been able to state her apologies, even if they had not been accepted.
“You might earn it, however,” the old lady added, her voice still crisp, but not quite so razor sharp.
This was most definitely not what Lizzie was expecting. Was she really being offered a chance to make amends? A glimmer of hope lit in her heart. “Name it, I beg of you. Anything, and I will do it.”
A hint of a smile appeared on Lady Thornborough’s face. “I will tell you what you must do. You must come here, and kiss your grandmamma.”
Shock and confusion coursed through Lizzie all at once. Her knees threatened to give out, and she grabbed on to James’s arm more tightly.
“You heard her,” James urged. “It is never a good idea to keep Auntie waiting.”
Lizzie broke free and raced to Lady Thornborough, nearly toppling the chair as she threw her arms around her.
“What in heaven’s name?” the woman said with a gasp.
“I’m so sorry for everything,” Lizzie cried, peppering her cheeks with kisses. “I do love you. I loved Ria, too. I loved her better than a sister. Whatever I can do, somehow I will make things right—”
“Perhaps,” Lady Thornborough wheezed, “you could start by removing the choke hold around my neck.”
This comment made Lizzie realize how much force she had been applying. Slowly she untangled herself and stepped back.
“That’s better,” Lady Thornborough said, readjusting her shawl. She indicated the chair next to her. “Sit down, child. We have much to discuss.”
Still dazed, Lizzie complied.
Lady Thornborough picked up a piece of paper that had been lying on the table next to her. She adjusted her reading glasses and read over it very carefully. Finally, she set her cool gray eyes on Lizzie. “I have a letter here
, Elizabeth, from your father.”
“My… father?”
“Yes. Your father. Herbert Thornborough.” She held up a hand to keep Lizzie from replying. “You thought the letters between Herbert and your mother that might prove the truth of your parentage were lost. They were not. I have them.”
This cannot be happening, Lizzie thought. How long had Lady Thornborough known the truth about her? Had everyone seen through her charade and allowed her to play the part anyway?
“The letters,” Lady Thornborough continued, “have been stored at my solicitor’s office in London for safekeeping.”
“I don’t understand,” Lizzie said. “Ria told me they were here. She had seen them herself.”
“I found them after Ria ran off with Edward,” James explained. “I was searching for any clues I could find about their possible destination.” He gave her a playful grin. “I knew where Ria kept her diary, so I went looking there first.”
Lizzie shook her head in resignation. “She really had no secrets from you, did she, James?”
He looked pleased with himself. “Not a one.”
“You cannot have found the diary, though. I found it myself, undisturbed in the very back corner.”
“That is correct; but I did find a packet of letters. After I read them, I gave them to Aunt.”
“It was an unusual display of wisdom on your part,” Lady Thornborough told him. To Lizzie she said, “I told James at that time that we would speak no more on the matter, since it had nothing to do with the problem of Ria’s elopement. It was an unfortunate aspect of the family history that was best forgotten.”
“You knew?” Despite her earlier feelings of contrition, Lizzie now felt stirrings of resentment. “You knew of my existence and yet you considered it something that was best forgotten?”
“That is what I told James,” Lady Thornborough answered brusquely. “The letters only gave evidence of the connection between Herbert and your mother. They stated nothing outright about a child. I did not feel it wise to enlighten James, since I could not trust him to keep the matter to himself.”
An Heiress at Heart Page 30