By the time he arrived at Warren’s townhouse, he realized the whole elaborate plan was to drive him and Opal out of Lady Chadwick’s townhouse. But why? What was so important about her townhouse that Mr. Hamilton had to be in it?
Fortunately, Warren was there to speak with him.
“Do you know Mr. Hamilton?” Landon asked as soon as he saw the gentleman. He had considered starting with the normal pleasantries, but he was too impatient to do so.
“Mr. Hamilton?” Warren asked.
Landon proceeded to describe him the best he could. He was in the middle of explaining the gentleman’s long nose when Warren stopped him.
“I know of the gentleman you’re referring to,” Warren said. “He’s been trying to get into White’s for years, but he can’t get enough votes. Why? Is he giving you trouble?”
“Not directly.”
From there, Landon explained everything that had been happening with Opal, deciding he wouldn’t bother worrying about his lisp because doing so would take too long to describe the situation. As had been the case with Miss Tumilson, this situation was much too important to agonize over every single word he spoke. If he lisped and it bothered them, then they were just going to have to deal with it.
By the time he was done, Warren’s jaw was hanging open in shock. “Why would anyone want to make Opal think she’s losing her mind?”
“I think they want Opal and me to get out of the townhouth,” Landon said. “I think Lady Chadwick left thomething important there.”
“Something important that Mr. Hamilton wants?”
Landon nodded and showed him the missive Miss Tumilson had given him and Opal. “No other thing would explain the letter he wrote Mith Kethner.”
Warren read the missive, eyebrows furrowed. “When did Opal start noticing the strange things that were going on?”
Landon thought back to the day when Opal insisted the inkwells had been switched around. “After Mith Kethner came under our employment.”
“The timing certainly is suspicious.” Warren shook his head. “Poor Opal. So many things have gone wrong for her.”
Landon was about to ask if Warren considered his marriage to Opal to be one of those things, but then Warren continued speaking.
“Thankfully, she has you,” Warren said, setting his mind at ease. After a moment, he asked, “How is she doing today?”
“Better now that we know about Mr. Hamilton. I’d like to find everyone who ith working with him.”
“I would, too. I’d especially like to know who is pretending to be Byron. Mr. Hamilton doesn’t look like Byron.”
That reminded Landon… He pulled the missive out of his pocket that Opal had given him. “Opal found it attached to a painting in the den.”
Warren took it, his eyes growing wide. “This is Byron’s handwriting. Did she think Byron really wrote this?”
“No. Opal thought the letter wath in her mind.”
“Somehow, Mr. Hamilton or someone he knows found out about Byron.”
“And they were trying to get her to leave London. Everything that happened to Opal ith about the townhouth.”
“The question is, how are we going to prove it?”
“I’d like your help doing that.”
“I’ll help you,” Warren promised. After a moment, he added, “Let’s bring Opal here and discuss what we should do. She’ll need to be a part of this since they’re trying to make her think she’s losing her mind.”
“Opal will be glad when we get the matter taken care of.”
“I bet she will.”
Without another word, the two left the townhouse to get Opal.
***
The next afternoon as Opal sat in front of her vanity, she couldn’t help but wonder if Miss Kesner and the maid would do something to make her believe she was losing her mind. Landon had made sure the maid was nearby when he told Opal he would be gone for a few hours.
After he left, Opal spent an hour in the drawing room, pretending to read a book. She chose the drawing room since nothing strange had ever happened in that room, and leaving the doors opened allowed her to catch sight of any of the staff who happened to be passing by. She suspected there was a reason the maid and Miss Kesner were only using the den and the bedchambers.
The plan Landon and Warren came up with was fairly simple. Landon was using the hour she was in the drawing room to get Warren and the detective they had hired yesterday. The three gentlemen then planned to sneak into the townhouse and hide in her and Landon’s bedchambers. Landon would hide under her bed while Warren and the detective would be in Landon’s bedchamber. The detective had said he suspected most of the activity would be going on in Landon’s bedchamber since the knocking had been coming from there.
Once Opal was sure the gentlemen had enough time to hide in there, she went to her bedchamber and summoned Miss Kesner to help her get ready for dinner. Now, as Miss Kesner brushed her hair, Opal wondered if anything would happen. Would there be knocking? Would the door open on its own? Would Miss Kesner deny it? Or would Miss Kesner and the maid not try something today?
This was the first opportunity they had where they would believe Landon wasn’t anywhere nearby to see or hear what they were doing. Surely, they would do something. They wouldn’t want this opportunity to slip by them, especially since she had told Landon, “Maybe we should spend a little time in the country,” as Miss Kesner was styling her hair that morning. Landon, in turn, pretended to be reluctant to leave London. Warren and Landon had been sure if they did that, then Miss Kesner would tell the maid. Then the two would assume their efforts were working and try something at the first moment Landon wasn’t around.
“You’re tense,” Miss Kesner said, breaking Opal out of her thoughts.
Opal glanced at Miss Kesner’s reflection in the mirror. Miss Kesner gave her the impression of being concerned, though there was the aloof politeness that accompanied just about everything else she did. Opal cleared her throat. “I’m fine.”
It was what Opal would have said if she still believed she was losing her mind, so she figured it was the best response to give her. She hoped that Miss Kesner would assume she worried that she might see or hear something that wasn’t really there. She wasn’t sure how good she was at pretending she was filled with the same nervous dread she’d been dealing with for the past couple of weeks.
At the moment, she was trying not to show how angry she was at Miss Kesner for putting her through so much turmoil. Did Miss Kesner know what Opal had been through in the past with her mother? Could she possibly know how much crueler her plan had been because of it?
Miss Kesner finished brushing her hair and began pinning it back into an attractive style.
A knock came from the door separating her bedchamber with Landon’s. Instinctively, Opal turned her head to the door, and the pin slipped from Miss Kesner’s hand and landed on the floor.
Opal looked at her bed and then at Miss Kesner, worried that Miss Kesner might realize Landon was under her bed and watching the entire thing. But Miss Kesner’s gaze never went to the bed. Opal breathed a sigh of relief and turned her attention back to the mirror.
Another knock came as Miss Kesner stood back up. Opal studied Miss Kesner’s reflection, trying to determine if there was a sign—ever so slight—that gave away the fact that she was hearing the knocking, even though she’d never admit it.
Opal waited for the next knock, but instead, the doorknob turned. But Opal kept her focus on Miss Kesner’s reflection, and as the door creaked opened, she noticed the telltale wrinkle in Miss Kesner’s forehead. The action happened so fast that she almost missed it.
Remaining still, Opal’s eyes went to the door. It creaked open further, but she didn’t see anyone on the other side.
“Opal,” came a whisper from behind the door.
This was new. The maid and Miss Kesner had decided to do more this time. She shouldn’t be surprised. If they thought what they had done so far was working a
nd since she hadn’t convinced Landon to leave for the country yet, they needed to add a new element to make her panic enough to insist that Landon take her out of London.
“Do you hear that?” Opal asked Miss Kesner, just to make sure this was part of the scheme—that it wasn’t Warren or the detective calling out to her.
“Hear what, my lady?” Miss Kesner asked.
So it was part of their scheme. “Someone called my name from my husband’s bedchamber.”
“Opal,” came another whisper.
“There. They did it again,” Opal said. “It’s a whisper.”
Miss Kesner stopped pinning her hair and waited. After several long moments, someone whispered her name again.
“Right then,” Opal said. “Didn’t you hear it?”
Miss Kesner shook her head. “I’m sorry, my lady. I don’t hear anything.” Then, placing a hand on her shoulder as if trying to comfort her, she added, “Are you feeling all right? Do you need to lie down?”
The door opened further, and this time Opal saw someone peeking into her bedchamber. Her breath caught in her throat. She couldn’t be sure from the limited view she had of him, but it looked like the gentleman who’d been disguised as Byron’s ghost the other day. He opened the door further, and sure enough, it was the same person. He had the same ghostly appearance.
If she hadn’t known Landon was hiding under the bed, she would have felt a chill crawl up her spine. Even though she knew it wasn’t really Byron’s ghost staring mournfully at her, they had done a good job of making him look like it.
“You don’t look well,” Miss Kesner told her. “Are you sure you don’t want to lie down for a while? Maybe some rest will do you good.”
The gentleman stepped into the room, still staring at Opal with that haunting expression on his face. “I’m lonely,” he whispered. “Why don’t you visit me?”
“Because you can’t visit someone who’s dead,” came Warren’s voice from behind the gentleman.
Opal’s gaze went to her brother. Miss Kesner stiffened behind her, and the gentleman spun around to face Warren.
“I think we have all we need,” Landon said as he came out from under the bed.
“Yes, we do,” Detective Hall added from Landon’s bedchamber.
Opal rose to her feet so she could see the detective. His hand was wrapped around the maid’s arm so she couldn’t run out of the room.
Opal turned back to Miss Kesner. “Why would you do this to me?”
“I can tell you the answer to that,” the detective said when Miss Kesner refused to look at her. “But I think it’s best if we discuss this in the drawing room. The others are waiting for us there.”
Others? What others? Besides Mr. Hamilton, she had no idea who was behind this elaborate scheme to make her think she was losing her mind. Landon took her by the hand and led her out of the bedchamber and into the hallway as the others joined them.
She chanced a look at Miss Kesner, who still refused to make eye contact with her. Had her gut instinct been warning her about the lady the entire time? Was that why she never felt comfortable with her?
Then she glanced at the maid and the gentleman who looked so much like Byron. Just who else had been involved in this? And, more importantly, why? Well, she would find out soon enough. In silence, the group went to the drawing room.
Chapter Twenty-Two
On the settee, Landon held Opal’s hand, glad they were finally getting to the bottom of this whole thing. Lady Chadwick and Mr. Hamilton had been waiting for them in the drawing room when they sat down.
At first, Landon thought Lady Chadwick had also been a part of the plan, but as soon as everyone was gathered into the room, the detective absolved Lady Chadwick from any guilt by saying, “Forgive me for making you come here on such short notice, my lady.”
“Am I in trouble?” Lady Chadwick asked.
“No,” he assured her, “but there’s something important that’s hiding in this townhouse.”
Mr. Hamilton scanned the others in the room, and for some reason, his gaze lingered on Landon. Landon was about to ask him why he insisted on staring at him for so long. But then he caught the slight scowl on Mr. Hamilton’s face and realized that Mr. Hamilton stared at him because he blamed Landon for all of this. Landon had refused to let him rent this townhouse so he could get to whatever he wanted without resorting to the staff to drive Landon and Opal out of the place. Things would have been a lot smoother if he’d been able to rent this place and search it out at his leisure. But since Landon had moved in here instead, Mr. Hamilton had had no such luxury.
The detective now had sufficient proof to make sure justice would be served. Landon had given him the forged missive from Byron and the paintings of the graveyard and ghost. Catching Miss Kesner, the maid, and the gentleman in the bedchambers had been the final piece of the puzzle.
Detective Hall turned to Mr. Hamilton. “Why don’t you explain to Lady Chadwick why you wanted to rent this place?”
“He wanted to be close to his daughter,” Lady Chadwick told Detective Hall.
“There is no daughter,” the detective replied. “He has no children. But he does have a fondness for money. Lady Chadwick, are you aware that your husband hid money throughout this townhouse?”
Landon’s eyes widened in surprise. He couldn’t recall finding any money lingering about the place. He glanced at Opal and noted that she hadn’t seen any, either.
Lady Chadwick’s eyebrows furrowed. “I don’t understand. I didn’t see any money in anything before I put this place up for rent.”
“Tell her where her husband hid it,” Detective Hall told Mr. Hamilton.
After a long moment, Mr. Hamilton sighed and said, “Lord Chadwick was superstitious. He didn’t like to put the majority of his money in a bank. He hid most of it in secret compartments in the furniture.” With a glance at Lady Chadwick, he added, “The doctor who tended to him on his deathbed was my cousin. He had asked me to bring some medicine to manage your husband’s pain. Your husband was delirious and rambling about an assortment of things. I don’t think anyone took him seriously. But I was curious, so I searched the nightstand by his bedside, and sure enough, behind the top drawer, I found some money neatly secured there. He spread his money throughout this entire place.” He scanned the drawing room, as if he would be able to detect if there was any in the room.
“And you didn’t know about that?” the detective asked Lady Chadwick.
She shook her head. “I had no idea. We have plenty in the bank. I have never been without anything I’ve ever needed, even after he passed on to the next life.”
“There must be a substantial amount of money around here if Mr. Hamilton took the time to hire help.” The detective turned to Miss Kesner, the maid, and the gentleman who’d been pretending to be a ghost. “Which one of you would like to be the first to explain your involvement in this?”
He waited in silence for one to volunteer, but they remained quiet.
“I’d like to know why they would try to make my sister think she was losing her mind,” Warren spoke up. “And what does our brother Byron have to do with this?” He turned his gaze to the gentleman dressed up like a ghost. “How did you find out about him, and how did you forge his handwriting?”
Mr. Hamilton let out another sigh as if he resented having to answer the questions but knew he had no choice since he’d been caught. “I needed to give Lady Farewell a reason to leave this townhouse, and I needed her to take her husband with her. After asking around about her family, I learned of Byron and found out he was dead. Since he was buried in the country, I decided the best way to get them to leave this townhouse was to make her think the ghost of her dearly departed brother wanted her to visit his grave.”
“Why did you add the knocking on the door and put her comb back in the drawer of her vanity?” Landon asked. “That had nothing to do with her brother.”
“Isn’t it obvious?” Mr. Hamilton countered. When Lando
n shook his head, he groaned. “Those were all ways Byron was trying to reach her. He was to start with simple things and then make his appearance. I hired Mr. Ackinson,” he motioned to the gentleman dressed up as Byron, “who looked like him to do the task for me. As for the handwriting, I found some missives Byron had written to gentlemen he gambled with.” He paused then added, “I don’t know everything Miss Kesner did, but my intention wasn’t to make your wife believe she was losing her mind. I only wanted her to think her brother was trying to reach her from the grave. A concerned sister should want to go to the country to find out what he wanted.”
Landon hadn’t expected that. He really had thought they were trying to make Opal believe she was losing her mind. But then, they didn’t know the details of her past. They didn’t know she had pretended to be insane to protect herself from her mother.
“What a terrible thing to do to a young lady,” Lady Chadwick said. “You ought to be ashamed of yourself, Mr. Hamilton.”
Mr. Hamilton rolled his eyes in a way that indicated he didn’t care what she thought of him, and this seemed to upset her even more.
“I think what matters is that we were able to prevent Mr. Hamilton from stealing more of your husband’s money,” Detective Hall said, turning to Lady Chadwick. “It would be in your best interest to go through all of your furniture to make sure you get it before someone else tries to steal it.”
“We didn’t move any of the furniture,” Landon told her. “We didn’t even know about the money. You are welcome to come here and look for it.”
Lady Chadwick nodded. “I’ll do that as soon as this whole thing with the detective is over.”
The Reclusive Earl Page 18