Regency Romance: Fallen Duchess (A Historical Victorian Murder Mystery Love Regency Romance)

by Tracey D Morgan

  “I do want to keep you safe, Lady Sarah. But more than anything, I want to find the monster who murdered Elizabeth and make sure he receives what he is due.”

  As Ross spoke of bringing justice to the killer, Sarah could see a change in his eyes. It was a look that almost made her fearful once more. But knowing that this man was there for her protection eased the feeling of dread that was trying to creep up once again.

  “Thank you, Mr. Hamilton. I can see why Lizzy was eager to start her life with you. I’m just sorry she won’t be able to fulfill that dream.”

  “I did love her, Lady Sarah. In my heart, I will always love her. I guess that’s why it’s so important for me to find out who took Elizabeth from me, from us.”

  Sarah was truly touched by the way he showed his affection and emotion for her late cousin. A piece of her was pinched by a bit of jealousy, but her attraction for Mr. Hamilton squelched any negative emotions in her heart.

  “I just want you to know, Lady Sarah, I’m here for you and Lady Ainsworth. I want you both to stay safe.”

  “Thank you, Mr. Hamilton. I truly believe that you do.”

  CHAPTER FOUR

  As the days passed, Lady Sarah found it difficult to keep her mind from dwelling on the last days of Elizabeth’s life filled with planning her future life abroad with the handsome and extremely successful Mr. Ross Hamilton. Although Sarah tried her hardest not to, she would end up wandering into Lizzy’s room, sit on her chaise lounge and reminisce about the years gone by before drifting off to sleep.

  One afternoon as she fell into an unplanned slumber, Sarah’s mind pulled her into a dream of a dark, stalking image passing her bedroom window; a sound of Lizzy screaming in sheer terror; Sarah being chased by a tall, lanky figure; and a bright light fading into a midnight darkness with a voice chanting undistinguished phrases that sent a chill down Sarah’s back. She woke up with shivers and in a cold sweat. Sarah didn’t understand why all those images were trapped inside her imagination.

  The one thing she did understand was the stalking image. At first, she thought she was just imagining the figure, but after those noises in the alleyway, Sarah had no doubt that there was a haunting shadow lurking around her bedroom window in the late hours of the night. At first, she didn’t want to say anything, but when Mr. Hamilton made his appearance, insisting that he keep them safe, Sarah revealed her fear of the prowling silhouette constantly passing by her window at the midnight hours.

  Sarah was fearful of the images that resided in her dreams. Deciding to keep herself busy than to fall asleep becoming victim once more to her nightmares, Sarah wandered into Lizzy’s room and began to scan the bedroom desperate for whatever she could find that would keep her from her thoughts while still helping to find Lizzy’s killer. She had wondered if maybe the killer was someone Lizzy had known. Why was it Lizzy who was targeted? Had she done something? Said something? Was there anything in the room that would give some sort of clue as to what had happened to her dear, sweet cousin?

  A photograph of Elizabeth and Mr. Hamilton itting on the dresser caught Sarah’s eye. The way the two were posed sent a twinge of jealousy through Sarah’s heart. She knew she was being ridiculous, seeing how the two had been engaged. But the desires for Ross Hamilton that had been building up in Sarah were now becoming undeniable. She was beginning to imagine life with the fine-looking American in high-society London. Was it love that was developing inside her heart? Quite possibly. But the issue that needed Sarah’s attention now more than ever was discovering who had killed Elizabeth and why her.

  Desperate for a change of thought, Sarah pulled open the top drawer of Lizzy’s clothes dresser and began to digging through her personal belongings. At first, there was no evidence for Sarah to discover. Drawer after drawer, her efforts were returning void. What she was expecting to find, Sarah had no clue. She was wretched in her searching. But then she lifted a pile of clothing in the very back corner of the very bottom dresser drawer. There, tied up with a corded rope, was a stack of envelopes and loose parchment bearing Elizabeth’s name.

  Sarah froze. With the mass of papers clinched in her hands, Sarah slumped to the floor in complete shock when she realized she was looking at. The script exhibiting Elizabeth’s name was the exact same script that had been scribbled on the ribbon that had hung from Aunt Clara’s doorknob the very same night Sarah had heard the commotion in the alley and began to see the shadow pass her window. Sarah flipped through the parchments, curious of exactly what the monster had written her.

  “M’lady?”

  Sarah glanced up from the letters to see the butler waiting just outside the open door.

  “Yes? What is it, Price?”

  “M’lady, Mr. Hamilton is here to see you.”

  “Mr. Hamilton?” Sarah’s thoughts were trying to gather everything her senses were taking in, but they just didn’t seem to want to keep up.

  “Yes, m’lady. I have set him up in the sitting room to wait for your response.”

  Ross Hamilton was waiting for her in the sitting room. Elizabeth hid stalking letters from her killer. The same handwriting that was currently burning a hole in Sarah’s eyes was the exact same handwriting that was written on the ribbon tucked away in her pocket.

  “M’lady?”

  Sarah struggled to pull herself from her thoughts.

  “Thank you, Price. I’ll be down in a minute.”

  The butler gave an acknowledging nod and removed himself from the doorway. Sarah was doing all she could to understand just exactly what all the sudden discoveries from the past month were adding up to. Perhaps Mr. Hamilton could shed a light on the dark, complicated thoughts bouncing around in Sarah’s head. Perhaps she could share with him everything she had come across in hopes of his ability to make sense of it all.

  Though she didn’t want to admit it, Lady Sarah Hughes was depending more and more on the presence and dominating assistance of Mr. Ross Hamilton, the man who was confusing her emotions was unintentionally stealing her heart.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  “Sarah, dear, come in here please.”

  Though it was probably not proper to do so, Great-Aunt Clara called from her chaise in the sitting room as Sarah passed by on her way out to the gardens.

  “Yes, Aunt Clara?”

  “Sarah, I need you to do something for me please.”

  “What is it?”

  “I received this invitation to attend a dinner at Lord Wellington’s house, and I want you to go in my place.”

  “Why won’t you be able to attend?”

  “I’m getting too old for all of these escapades. My time in society has been lived long enough. It’s time for you to get out there, dear, and see if you can separate yourself from everything that’s been going on. Get away from all this Elizabeth drama for just one evening and enjoy yourself, Sarah.”

  “Honestly, Aunt Clara, I don’t feel like being sociable. I was just a flower on a wall when I went to those things with Lizzy. And now with her gone, I won’t even be noticed at all. There’s no sense in forcing something to exist that simply is not meant to be.”

  “Nonsense, Sarah. Now, you’re going to go to this dinner to stand in my place because we will not be known as a house of rudeness.”

  “Of course, Aunt Clara, if that’s how you want it to be.”

  “You may think I’m harsh in my words and forcible in my attempts, but it’s for your own good, my darling Sarah. I do it because I love you.”

  “I know you love me, Aunt Clara. I love you just as much, if not more. I’ll go to the dinner on your behalf and will do my best to enjoy my time while I’m there.”

  “That’s my good girl. Now, go on out to the gardens, and enjoy this beautiful day.”

  Two weeks later, Sarah prepared herself to attend the dinner given by Lord and Lady Wellington in Great-Aunt Clara’s place. Even though the majority of her being wanted to be as far away from that place as possible, Sarah couldn’t help but to feel some sort of
excitement for getting back into the routine of socializing with the lords and ladies of the upper class in hopes of establishing some sort of future with one of the eligible bachelors.

  But, honestly, the only eligible bachelor that Sarah’s heart desired was none other than the man who had been coming to call on her more and more as the weeks carried on. At first, it was just a simple conversation that was short and sweet in the sitting room. But as each one carried on and the days turned into weeks, Sarah couldn’t help but to feel that Ross Hamilton was beginning to possess the same feelings that Sarah had been desperately forcing inside.

  Finally reaching the Wellingtons, Sarah did her best to make Great-Aunt Clara proud. The meal was delicious, and the drinks were divine. The company was even more manageable than Sarah had expected. All in all, the time spent substituting for Lady Ainsworth was rewarded with nods from bachelors and calling cards being filled with future dates. How she had sprung from a seed to a flower, Sarah didn’t quite understand. The only logical explanation she could put her finger on was her emotions for Ross Hamilton were beginning to rise to the surface and starting to shine through every orifice of her exterior.

  “Lady Sarah, I’m so glad you were able to attend. I’m sorry that Lady Ainsworth was unavailable to make it, though.”

  “Thank you, Lord Wellington, but she is far more worthy to be at dinners put on by people like your parents than I ever will be.”

  “I quite disagree. You are, by far, the most beautiful being in this jungle of monotonous bodies.”

  “You are much too kind, Lord Wellington.”

  “Please, Lady Sarah, it’s Nelson, Nelson Wellington. That ‘lord’ nonsense is for my mother and father, not for me.”

  “Thank you, but Lord Wellington helps to keep it cordial and not to give into the temptation to take things further than where they were meant to go.”

  “Lady Sarah, you don’t mean that, do you? We’ve known one another for such a long time. Honestly, it just makes perfect sense for us to give into all this formality and take our relations to the next stage.”

  “Honestly, Lord Wellington, there are no relations to take to the next stage.”

  Suddenly, Lord Wellington stepped into Sarah’s space, slightly a little too close for comfort, and lowered his serpent eyes to Sarah’s widened eyes.

  “I do believe that you are mistaken, Sarah. There is so much more to us than I think you are willing to admit to. Just face it. You and I are meant to be married. You and I are destined to become husband and wife.”

  Sarah struggled to maintain her composure under the intimidating presence of Lord Nelson Wellington III. She wanted to pinch herself, just to make sure that it wasn’t just a dream.

  “Please, Lord Wellington. I’m sorry if I have given you more to imagine than what I have always been. But there is nothing inside of me that desires to be married to you or to spend a life with you. Now if you’ll please excuse me, I must make my regards to your mother before heading back to be with my Great-Aunt Clara.”

  She stared hard at him, challenging him with her deep hazels to just try and make a move on her without her permission. To her surprise, Nelson Wellington took three steps back and lowered his head.

  “My apologies, Lady Sara. I never meant to overstep any bounds you had set. Please give my regards to your aunt, and please let her know that she was greatly missed here at Brantford Acres.”

  Nelson gave her a bow and nodded his head before turning to the hallway, leaving her standing in much confusion as to what had just happened. Quickly, Sarah made her way to the drawing room to make an appearance before saying goodbye to Lord and Lady Wellington. She collected her coat and latched the button over her waist before slipping her hands into her pockets. As she did, the fingers of her right hand were met by a familiar sized piece of parchment. Slowly, Sarah pulled it out and stood frozen and pale as the script matched that of both Lizzy’s letters and the ribbon in her waist pocket.

  With trembling fingers, she slipped open the sealed flap and pulled out the paper with a single line of script written: I’m done playing. Your time is up.

  Sarah tried to shake it off as just a simple nonsensical note. She loaded up into Lady Ainsworth’s carriage and took her jaunt home. Wanting to be free of the message and all the horrible events of the past months, Sarah balled up the note and tossed it out the carriage window into the deep, dark night.

  Reaching the house, the carriage stopped just before the townhouse. The driver knew that Lady Sarah enjoyed the last few steps to the house in the fresh evening air. She stepped out and began her trek to the house she had grown to love. A surprise sight caught her eye and put a jolt of excitement into her step. But the returned look was not one of happiness but one of fear. It was the last sight her eyes took in before the dark of night consumed her.

  CHAPTER SIX

  When Sarah came to, the room was as dark as a moonless night. She had to touch her eyes with her trembling hands just to make sure they were truly open. Her heart was pounding nearly out of her chest. She could hear her pulse in her ears. Cautiously, she ran her fingers against the wall behind her, frantically searching for some kind of sign for where she was. The last thing Sarah could remember was walking along the cobblestone pathway to Great-Aunt Clara’s and seeing Ross standing on the bottom step of the townhouse. She thought she had seen him running toward her, calling out her name, but everything went dark as something covered over her nose and mouth.

  Ross. What happened to Ross? Obviously he was unable to stop whoever had captured Sarah, but surely he didn’t just let them walk away with her. Why was he at Aunt Clara’s anyway? Had he finally found out who murdered Lizzy? Was he trying to protect Sarah?

  A noise below her pulled Sarah from her thoughts. Was that someone singing? What knocked her out must be causing her to hear strange things.

  “One more hour ’til the time of capture. One more hour ’til I take your soul.”

  That was definitely not her imagination. Someone was singing about death. Whoever it was truly happy and looking forward to taking her life. She knew that she had to do something to get out of the situation, and she knew she had less than an hour to get that something done.

  Suddenly, a soft glow began to shine through a crack under what Sarah could now make out as the door to her confined prison. Slowly, she crawled on her stomach to the light, touching the floor in front of her with her open palms. She could feel her skirt snagging on the nails sticking up out of the floorboards. She pulled her hands back a couple of times as she scratched them along her crawling path. Sarah didn’t dare to let out a cry of pain in fear of her captor hearing and knowing that she had finally come to. The more she had over this monster, the greater her chances of survival would be.

  Reaching the bottom of the door, Sarah took in a deep breath but nearly gagged at the stench that entered her nose. A mixture of feces, soured milk, rotting flesh and internal organs sent her stomach into spasms and threatened to give away her conscious state. Lifting the back of her hand to her lips, Sarah swallowed down the contents of her stomach.

  Finally, Sarah gained control over her stomach and held her breath as she tried to peak out the crack, flattening her body as low to the ground as much as she could. Desperately, she attempted to catch but a glimpse of her surroundings, hoping for some sort of clue as to where she was or who had kidnapped her. Sarah’s efforts were nothing but discouraged.

  Pulling herself up from the floor, Sarah tried to stand as noiselessly as possible. As she reached her feet, light shining through the keyhole on the door caught Sarah’s attention. She softly wiggled the doorknob, saying a silent prayer for its ability to open.

  Nothing.

  She pulled a pin from her tied up hair and stuck it into the keyhole, hoping for some sort of latch or lock to release, giving her access and moving one more step closer to her freedom from that dreadful place.

  Twist.

  Turn.

  Up.

  D
own.

  One way after the other, Sarah pushed and pulled and twisted for what felt like an eternity until …

  Click.

  Sarah’s persistence paid off. She took a deep breath in as she squeezed the latch and pulled the door to her. And just as she feared, the door let out a long screech. Sarah froze and waited for a sign of her kidnapper.

  She felt relief when there was no sign of him. She eased into the hallway and took quiet step after quiet step toward the glowing light at the end of the staircase. Sarah peered over the railing to see if there was anyone moving about.

  “Half an hour ’til the time of capture. Half an hour ’til I take your soul.”

  Lady Sarah held her breath, watching the monster pace the floor while singing his little song. For a moment, she couldn’t believe whom she was seeing.

  It was none other than Lord Nelson Wellington III.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Sarah’s heart was pounding out of her chest as the events over the past six months played out in her jumbled mind. It was Wellington who had proposed more than once to Lizzy. And after each refusal, he would disappear for days before inviting the two cousins to one of his mother’s dinners, only to start the bidding again. After the last refusal by Elizabeth, and the announcement of her engagement to Ross Hamilton, Wellington disappeared for the last time.

  It must have been right after his leaving that Elizabeth started receiving all of those notes that Sarah had found buried in her dresser. The script had matched the words written on Elizabeth’s ribbon and the letter that was placed in Sarah’s coat during the dinner. All of these incidents put together made perfect sense that Lord Nelson Wellington III was Elizabeth’s killer.

  Sarah descended to the first floor, step by cautious step, watching to see where Wellington had moved. She could hear his footsteps coming from the room just to the right of the staircase, the only room that was lit by a single candle. Sarah began to search for the front door. She inched her way to the bottom step.