by Lucy Adams
“Perhaps later this evening?” he suggested, seeing how she nodded at once. “When all is at an end?”
“When I am free of my burden,” she whispered, still holding his hand. “Thank you, Lord Watt. I look forward to seeing you again soon.”
“Until tonight,” he said, bowing over her hand and kissing the back of it gently. He looked deeply into her eyes, lingering for just a moment longer, before bowing, stepping back and then turning to quit the house.
“Everything is going well thus far, I think.”
Matthew nodded, still aware of the undercurrent of tension that was running through the house. Everyone here this evening was a part of The King’s League—save for a few ladies that Lady Northgate had insisted on inviting before she had known of the true reason for the gathering this evening. The extra guests would not present any particular difficulty, however, for Lady Northgate had already promised to have them entertained in another part of the house with mayhap one or two single gentlemen who could be spared from the League to keep a watch over them. When Matthew gave the signal, Lady Northgate would begin to usher in those particular guests with the promise of a “very special” evening of entertainment.
“Lord Fitzherbert shows no signs of having any awareness of this situation at all,” Lord Templeton continued, as Matthew nodded fervently. “He is behaving just as usual.”
“He is arrogant,” Matthew answered, grimacing. “That comes as little surprise to me.”
Lord Templeton sighed heavily, an angry glint in his eye. “I will be glad to see that fellow taken aside for what he has done,” he muttered, allowing Matthew a small glimpse into the truth of what he felt. “It will be a blessed relief for the family, I know.”
“And for the League also,” Matthew added, although fully aware it would not be with the same intensity. “We will have uncovered and apprehended another spy.”
“Two years later,” Lord Templeton muttered, shaking his head. “But yes, I am glad it will be brought to an end. Perhaps then you and Miss Williams will be able to talk about the other matter that weighs so heavily on your hearts.”
Matthew felt a flush creeping up his face as he cleared his throat, making Lord Templeton chuckle despite the severity of their present circumstance.
“You cannot hide such things from a man who has served in the League for so long,” he stated, as Matthew’s embarrassment continued to mount. “I only hope that there will be a happiness there for you both in the end.”
“As do I,” Matthew agreed, knowing there was no reason to pretend. “Thank you for all you have done, Lord Templeton. Without you, Miss Williams might never have become involved and we might now be no closer to finding the truth.”
Lord Templeton said nothing, only nodded, looked about him and then caught someone else’s eye, seeing the gentleman nod.
“Lord Fitzherbert is well on his way to a drunken state, it seems,” Matthew muttered, seeing the nod from Lord Fraser also. “I must speak to Lady Northgate.”
“And then we shall begin?” Lord Templeton asked, as Matthew nodded grimly, seeing how Miss Williams was walking towards him, her face a little pale.
“And then we begin,” he answered, offering his arm to Miss Williams and turning away from Lord Templeton in search of Lady Northgate.
Miss Williams was trembling, but her expression remained quite calm. “He is enjoying your brandy, Lord Watt,” she said, out of the corner of her mouth. “Do you think…?”
He gave her a quick smile. “Yes, I think so. Let us walk past your sister, and I shall greet her warmly. She will know what to do next.” They had agreed to wait until Lord Fitzherbert had become a little more jolly before moving things on, for he would be more relaxed then and less inclined to notice what was going on about him. Soon, Lord Fitzherbert would discover a room filled with people very much displeased with him and that, he knew, would bring everything crashing to the ground.
Some twenty minutes later and Lady Northgate had managed to dispatch everyone else to the library, where a band of musicians was waiting, ready to entertain them, as well as a poet and a singer. Seeing her slip back into the room, Matthew patted Miss Williams hand.
“It is time, Miss Williams,” he said softly, looking down into her eyes and seeing the fear there. “Are you prepared?”
She took in a long breath, setting her shoulders and seeming to gain strength from whatever it was she could see in his face. “Yes,” she said, letting go of his hand and stepping back. “I am quite prepared.” There was still a slight tremor to her voice, but her face was set, reassuring him that she knew precisely what she was to do and that she was thoroughly prepared to do it.
“I will be only a few steps away,” he murmured, wanting to reach out to take her hand, to press her fingers, but knowing he could not. “The room looks to you, Miss Williams.”
She nodded and made to turn away, only to spin back around and come a step or two closer. Her eyes searched his face, and he was again reminded of the past they had shared.
“Might you call me ‘Daisy’—as you once did?” she asked, sending a thrill up his spine. “I would so very much like it if you would.”
His hand found hers almost at once, glad that they were near the side of the room and drawing no great attention. “I have longed to do so, Daisy,” he said, her name almost spoken reverently. “And I am glad to do so again.”
She drew in a deep breath, letting it rattle out of her slowly as though this had been the only thing she needed to secure her confidence. With a small smile and a lingering look, she stepped back again, ready to bring this dark, twisted circumstance to its just end.
Daisy moved carefully towards Lord Fitzherbert, feeling as though she carried a great weight on her shoulders. The weight of responsibility that came with ensuring Lord Fitzherbert told her the truth and that, in doing so, he would admit to his guilt. Lord Watt had helped her in knowing what to say and how to say it, but she feared that her emotions would grow so quickly and would be so overwhelming that she might lose herself entirely.
Her eyes found Lord Fitzherbert. He was holding another empty glass of what she presumed had been port and was now in a very merry situation indeed. It was as though he sensed her nearness, for he turned his head and looked straight at her, his face splitting with a broad smile.
Her anger began to bubble furiously, sending a streak of heat through her. Daisy clenched her fists tight and set her jaw. She could not lose her composure now.
“Lord Fitzherbert,” she said, injecting as much warmth as she could into her words. “I am glad to see you this evening.” She smiled at him and saw how his gaze lingered on her, leering just a little. Her skin crawled, but she said nothing more, seeing how the gentlemen who had been talking to Lord Fitzherbert only moments ago were now melting away into another part of the room, although it was quite clear Lord Fitzherbert had not even noticed.
“I have something to ask you,” she said coyly, looking up at him. “Something I hope you will tell me.”
Lord Fitzherbert chuckled. “Is it about the matter we have left unfinished?” he asked, with a gleam in his eye. “You asked me some time ago about whether I might wish to pursue you in a more fervent manner, making it quite clear about your reasons for doing so, but we were unfortunately interrupted, I think.”
Daisy, who knew precisely what Lord Fitzherbert was speaking of, nodded. “That is it entirely,” she agreed, with what she hoped was a demure smile. “I do wish to know the answer to such a question. Although you are aware that, should you wish to begin a courtship, you will have to speak to my brother-in-law, Lord Northgate.” She saw Lord Fitzherbert’s eyes flick across the room, perhaps searching for Lord Northgate. “I am unsure whether you are aware of this or not, Lord Fitzherbert, but my father, Lord Harrogate, died some two years ago.”
Lord Fitzherbert jerked back but covered it with a look of horror which faded to sympathy. “Indeed, I was not aware,” he said, sounding quite sorrowful. “How
very sad for you.”
“Indeed,” Daisy sighed, glad that Lord Fitzherbert had done precisely what she and Lord Watt had expected. “It was a very difficult time.” She began to tell Lord Fitzherbert about her year of mourning but did not go into any particular details about the death of her father. Instead, she spoke of her sorrow, her misery, and her grief, which he seemed to sympathize with for he gave the occasional nod and murmur.
“I am certain he would have been very glad to meet you, Lord Fitzherbert,” she finished, putting one hand on his arm even though she wanted nothing more than to strike the fellow, hard, for the falseness he wore at present. “He was a very good man, and we lost so much along with him when he died.”
Lord Fitzherbert cleared his throat. “Indeed,” he said, without any particular intonation. “That fire almost burned through the townhouse, did it not?”
Daisy froze. Whilst she knew and had expected Lord Fitzherbert to say something contradictory to his promise that he knew very little about Lord Harrogate or the circumstances surrounding his death, she had not expected it to be so soon. They had waited until Lord Fitzherbert had drunk a rather liberal amount in the hope that he would do precisely this but to have blurted out a remark like that after only a few minutes quite threw her.
She stared at him blankly.
“What is the matter, dear lady?” Lord Fitzherbert exclaimed, sweeping forward towards her, his expression befuddled. “You look as though you have turned to stone.”
Daisy let out her breath slowly, trying very hard to keep her composure calm. Her mind was screaming at her to say something, but all that she had practiced with Lord Watt had flown from her mind. The shock had been overwhelming.
“Oh.”
Lord Fitzherbert’s eyes widened, and he took a small step back. His hands raised, and he tried to smile. “I mean to say, I heard about the fire, of course.”
“You said you did not even know my father had passed away,” she answered, looking at him sharply and allowing all that she felt to pour into her heart. “But I know you lied, Lord Fitzherbert.” She took a step closer, pointing one finger at him. “I know more than you think.”
The whole room filled with a quiet stillness that buzzed with tension. Every eye was trained upon Lord Fitzherbert, and he slowly became aware of it, looking away from Daisy and then to his left and to his right.
“What is it you think you know, Miss Williams?” he said and laughed, the sound rattling around the room. “I know nothing of Lord Harrogate.”
“That is not the truth,” Daisy answered, her voice filled with a fresh confidence that seemed to physically knock Lord Fitzherbert back. “The truth has been discovered, Lord Fitzherbert. There is nothing you can say to defend yourself. I know you killed my father.”
She watched Lord Fitzherbert as his expression suddenly grew ugly. Gone was the teasing smile, the bright eyes, and the laughing expression. Instead, his face grew dark, his lips pulling back into a snarl and his eyes darkening.
“You should be careful of what you accuse me of, Miss Williams,” he spat, his anger reaching out towards her. “I am not a man to be trifled with.”
“As well I know.”
The voice of Lord Stevenson rang around the room, emboldening Daisy still further. Lord Fitzherbert stood tall, looking all about him, his eyes narrowed but his face paling.
“Stevenson?” he exclaimed, as Lord Stevenson stepped forward, the other gentlemen allowing him a clear path through. “Surely you can have nothing to say in these circumstances.”
Daisy heard the warning in Lord Fitzherbert’s voice but shook her head. “It is too late, Lord Fitzherbert,” she said, before Lord Stevenson could answer. “We know everything. We know that you killed my father. We know that you blackmailed your three acquaintances so that they could never reveal that you were a spy, that you worked against the Crown.” Another small step forward took her all the closer to Lord Fitzherbert who was, by now, looking a little panicked. “We know it all.”
Lord Fitzherbert said nothing for some moments, his eyes wider than before and his gaze darting between Lord Stevenson and Daisy. It was as though he was trying to find something to say, some excuse he might make to buy himself a reprieve, but nothing was there for him to cling to.
“You shall not keep me silenced any longer,” Lord Stevenson murmured, his words seeming to hammer down on Lord Fitzherbert as he shrank back. “It is as Miss Williams says. Everything is known.”
Lord Fitzherbert shook his head repeatedly, as though he could not quite bring himself to believe it. Daisy’s spirits began to lift free of the darkness and the sorrow that had held them back for so long, seeing now that justice was about to be done. The man before her had killed her father and betrayed his country. And now he was to face the consequences of what he had done. There was no anger in her heart any more, only a sense of justice. Justice that, in time, would give way to peace.
“He was always looking,” Lord Fitzherbert snarled, suddenly bearing down on Daisy. “He was always trying to work out which one of us was the traitor. I tried to put him from me as much as I could without bringing him harm, but he was determined.” His voice grew louder as his eyes flared wide. “What else was I to do?” He threw up his hands and staggered forward, his anger more than evident. “Harrogate should have stayed away. He should have left me alone. Then none of this would have happened! None of it!”
Daisy felt an arm go about her waist and glanced up to see her sister standing, white faced, beside her.
“Our father was a brave and courageous gentleman who worked for the King and did not step back from difficult circumstances,” Daisy said, her voice ringing out loud and clear. “I will never think ill of him for that.”
“And now you will be taken from here to face the consequences of your actions,” Susanna added, her voice weak but still filled with a courage Daisy knew came from deep within. “And I shall not pray for you.”
Lord Fitzherbert let out a scream of rage and made to leap for them both, only for Lord Stevenson to step forward and slam his fist into Lord Fitzherbert’s face. The man staggered back, his eyes rolling back in his head, before he fell to the ground and lay there, his consciousness gone.
Silence crept over everyone for a time, but this time there was no tension. Instead, there was a calmness that filled Daisy’s heart. A calmness that told her she had come to the end of the matter and that she need not even think of it any longer. A contentedness that said there was more waiting for her now, a happiness that could be hers if only she would seek it.
“It is over,” she breathed, turning towards her sister and embracing her tightly. “It is at an end.”
“It is,” Susanna whispered, a sob in her voice. “And I, for one, am glad of it.”
“As am I,” Daisy answered, looking up to see Lord Watt directing gentlemen to tie Lord Fitzherbert’s hands before lifting him from the room. Their eyes met for a long moment, and in that came a sense of peace. “For now, I am free.”
Epilogue
“He is gone to the gaol and will not be removed from it until his trial. There is no doubt of the outcome.”
Daisy looked up at him. “Thank you for telling me, Lord Watt,” she said. “But let us speak no more of it. Justice will be done, I am sure of that, but I have no urge to know each detail.”
He smiled at her, thinking again just how wonderfully strong Daisy could be. “What will you do now?” he asked, a knot of fear beginning to tie itself in his stomach. “Will you return home? Or will you linger on here for the rest of the Season?”
She stopped walking along beside him, turning to face him instead. The gardens of Lord Northgate’s townhouse were quiet and private, and he felt as though everything within it were holding its breath, waiting for her to give him her answer.
“I would be where you are, Lord Watt,” she said quietly, sending a jolt of astonishment through him. “That is, if you would like me to stay?”
Such was his flood
of emotion that Matthew could not find the words to speak. Instead, he chose to act on what he felt, to do what he had been desiring for such a long time.
In a moment, she was in his arms. His hands were tight about her, enfolding her into his embrace. She went willingly, a long breath escaping her, as though this was what she had been longing for. Her head rested against his chest, her hands around him also.
“I am sorry, Lord Watt.”
Such was the pounding of his heart that he struggled to hear her. “You are sorry?” he repeated softly, his pulse racing all the more as she looked up at him with those beautiful, gentle eyes that seemed to pierce his very soul. “What have you to be sorry for?”
Her eyes searched his. “I did not write to you.” Her hands reached around and pressed against his chest. “When my father died, I spent my year of mourning lost in grief and confusion. I did not once write to you, did not once tell you of how I felt.”
“But nor did I,” he answered. “You know that I did not. That was my failing also.” The truth began to bring a fresh wave of shame and regret to him, but he continued to speak it regardless. “I, too, was lost, Daisy. I did not know what I ought to do or what I ought to say. I was grieving for the loss of your father and for the loss of your company also. In my foolishness, I thought to leave you alone for fear that a letter might somehow bring you more pain when I know now that it might have been of some comfort to you.”
A single tear ran down her cheek, and he could not help but wipe it away. “I am filled with regret for what I did not do,” he told her. “When I heard the rumor that you also had passed away, I felt so lost within my shame and sadness that it was as though I was walking through thick clouds with very little idea of where to go.”
“But we have found each other again,” she whispered, bringing him such a surge of hope that it almost knocked him back. “Is there any way that you might consider me again, Lord Watt?”
“Consider you?” He could barely believe what she was asking him, could hardly take in that she still had a question over his feelings. “My dear Daisy, I have never had a day go by where I have not thought of you, where I have not prayed beyond hope that we might one day have a chance to repair what was broken.” His hands went back around her, tightening just a little and pulling her fractionally closer. “You have never left my heart.”