by Fanny Walsh
On a whim, he retrieved Mary’s letter and tucked it into his coat pocket.
As Johnson assisted in loading up the carriage, Duncan noticed his butler studying him, his eyebrows creased.
“My Lord, forgive my brazen intrusion, but this is rather irregular,” Johnson said. “Should I accompany you?”
Duncan smiled and clapped the elderly man on his shoulder.
“Your concern means much to me. However, I need you here to oversee the other servants,” Duncan said.
“Of course,” Johnson said. “However, if you should need an escort, I could have the chef delegate tasks while we are away.”
Duncan laughed, but both men noticed how strained the sound was.
“There is no need to fret, Johnson,” Duncan said. “I just feel the need to take a brief vacation, and you and I both know that if I allow myself time to think about it, I will not do it.”
“Hm, yes,” Johnson said thoughtfully. He did not seem quite convinced, but he did not further press the issue.
The carriage ride to Julius’s estate was uneventful. Duncan studied Mary’s letter the entire way, trying to see if he could determine something of a reason from the words she had written, and those she had not. However, by the time he arrived at Julius’s home, he was just as baffled as he was before he had left his own home.
Julius’s Butler, Fernon, greeted his carriage as it arrived.
“Good evening, Lord Tornight,” Fernon said.
“Good evening, Fernon,” Duncan replied with a smile. “Is Julius home?”
“He is in the drawing room having tea,” Fernon said, ushering Duncan into the house.
Fernon escorted him directly to the drawing room, where he rushed in to announce Duncan’s arrival.
“Excuse me, my lord. Lord Tornight is here to see you,” Fernon said.
Julius leaped to his feet, placing his teacup on the silver tray in front of him.
“Duncan, old boy! It is so good to see you,” Julius said, crossing the room to embrace his friend. Duncan returned the embrace.
“Hello, Julius. I do hope I am not imposing.”
“Nonsense! I am glad to see you,” Julius said. “Please, do come in. Fernon, please pour a cup of tea for our guest.”
“Right away, my lord,” Fernon said.
“No, thank you, Fernon. I would like a snifter of brandy instead if you do not mind,” Duncan said.
Julius looked momentarily surprised, then nodded to his butler.
“Brandy, then,” Julius said. Fernon vanished, returning shortly with a near-full glass of dark liquor.
Julius watched Duncan wordlessly as he drank the snifter of brandy in two short gulps. He waited until the glass was empty to speak.
“So, to what do I own the pleasure of your visit?” Julius asked.
Duncan sat deep in thought for a moment.
“I am quite tired from the trip here,” Duncan said carefully. “Could we perhaps continue this conversation tomorrow?”
Julius’s humored countenance sobered at once. Duncan felt guilty for not coming to his friend’s home more prepared to explain his sudden visit, but he truly felt exhausted and not ready to tell his lifelong friend what bothered him so.
“Of course, old friend,” Julius said, trying not to study his friend too closely. Julius rang for his servants.
“Please prepare accommodations for Lord Tornight,” he ordered. Duncan noted the uncharacteristic gruffness in Julius’s voice. It seemed that the servants did, as well, because they stumbled over each other as they exited the room and rushed to do as their lord commanded.
“If there is anything else you need, do not hesitate to either let my servants know, or to come to my chambers to me directly,” Julius said. Again, Duncan noted the seriousness with which his old friend spoke, and again he felt guilty for his mysteriousness.
“Julius, my friend, I assure you that everything is fine. I am just taking a much-needed holiday from work,” Duncan said with a smile he hoped was as reassuring as he intended.
Julius studied him for a long moment. Duncan hated lying to his friend, even if only for the evening, but he could not bring himself to address the reason for his visit just yet.
Julius seemed to accept his words.
“Very well. I trust that your night’s lodgings will be to your liking,” Julius said. “I will let you adjourn to your room, and I look forward to seeing you at breakfast in the morning.”
“With pleasure,” Duncan said, giving his most charming smile.
Julius looked at him a moment longer, then he smiled in return.
Once Julius had finished his tea, he excused himself and retired to his quarters. Duncan was suddenly afraid that he had offended his friend and worried that he might have overstayed his welcome before his stay had even begun. However, before Julius retired, he winked at Duncan.
“I trust that we will have many interesting details to discuss come tomorrow,” Julius said.
Duncan smiled gratefully at his old friend.
“Indeed,” Duncan said.
Duncan followed the servant who escorted him to his sleeping quarters for the night. Once the servant left the room, Duncan collapsed on the bed.
With all the turmoil in his mind, Duncan had not expected to be able to rest. However, strained exhaustion overcame him, and he was asleep before he knew it.
The next morning, Duncan joined Julius in the breakfast room. Julius was already finishing the last of his breakfast. Duncan served himself from the side table, adding a snifter of brandy to his meal, then seated himself next to his friend. Julius surveyed the glass of brandy curiously but said nothing.
“I trust you rested well?” Julius asked.
Duncan nodded, pushing the food around on his plate with his fork. Julius seemed to be waiting for Duncan to speak. When Duncan remained silent, Julius spoke again.
“I thought we might take a ride this morning. It is such a beautiful day, and it would be a shame to let it go to waste.”
Duncan winced, remembering his carriage ride with Mary. However, once again he said nothing. He simply nodded, still rearranging his breakfast.
Seeing that he would get nothing out of his friend, Julius slowly rose from the table. He placed a hand on Duncan’s shoulder.
“We should be ready to be off in about a half-hour. Take your time finishing your breakfast, I will have one of the servants retrieve you when everything is ready,” he said.
Duncan did not look up at his friend. Julius headed for the door.
“Thank you, Julius,” Duncan murmured at last.
“My pleasure,” Julius replied.
Duncan had little appetite, and when the butler came to fetch him, he left his plate with as much food as when he first filled it. The butler raised an eyebrow but said nothing as he called for one of the kitchen servants to clear the plate.
The day was indeed a lovely one, but Duncan could not muster the will to enjoy it. He rode alongside Julius in silence as Julius droned on about work and his wife traveling to see her parents.
Duncan listened halfheartedly, but he mentally kept rereading Mary’s letter, which was permanently etched into his mind.
After some time, Julius brought his horse to a halt. Duncan did not notice, and he kept riding slowly forward.
Julius nudged his horse into motion again, this time moving ahead and in front of Duncan’s. He stopped again, blocking Duncan’s path. Reluctantly, Duncan tugged the reins.
“My friend, broodiness does not suit you,” Julius said. His tone was light, but his eyes were full of concern.
Duncan tried to smile, but he felt sure that it looked more like a grimace.
“What is it, Duncan?” Julius asked.
Duncan just shook his head.
“You cannot come all the way out here, in the middle of the night, no less, and then not tell me what this is all about,” Julius persisted.
Duncan sighed. He knew his friend was right. After all, was that not w
hy he had come all the way here?
“It’s… it’s Mary,” he said at last.
“Has something happened to her?” Julius asked.
“No. Well, yes…” Duncan trailed off, unsure of where to start.
“Just begin at the beginning, old friend,” Julius said kindly, as if reading Duncan’s thoughts.
The two men began riding again, and Duncan did precisely that. He recounted everything to Julius, from the meeting with the investigator and the teahouse fire, to Mary’s sudden acceptance, and even more sudden recanting, of his proposal. He even showed Julius the letter, which he still had in his pocket.
However, he left out Mary’s breakdown, and the part where he rescued her from jumping out of that window. Although many people witnessed the incident, Duncan did not feel it was appropriate to share something so personal with someone who did not.
Julius scanned the letter. Then, to Duncan’s surprise, Julius laughed.
“Duncan, old friend. For a man who is usually so very smart, you are acting quite dense,” he said.
Duncan stopped his horse again, staring at his friend in bewilderment. Julius stopped alongside his friend.
“Whatever do you mean?” Duncan asked. He could not believe his friend would say something so harsh to him just then. Yet, he was more confused than angered.
“Do you not see how suspicious the letter’s timing is?” Julius asked.
Duncan shook his head, not understanding what his friend was trying to say.
“Think about it. First, she agreed to marry you. Then, she suddenly breaks the engagement, and all after an attempt on her life was thwarted. Does that not seem at all odd to you?”
Duncan’s eyes widened as realization struck. His mind raced as Julius continued speaking.
“It stands to reason that, for her to so suddenly and, from the tear stains on this paper, so unwillingly, break her engagement to you, she was likely threatened into doing so. Thus, making her available for whoever is seeking her hand once more.”
“Tell me what you know of all the men who have asked for Mary’s hand,” Duncan demanded.
Julius proceeded to name a parade of men. Some of the names sounded familiar to Duncan; others did not. However, as Julius continued giving him names, one stood out. It startled Duncan so that he asked Julius to repeat himself.
“That is correct,” Julius said. “Your cousin, Theodore, has also tried for Mary’s hand.”
Duncan sat in stunned, furious silence. Theodore had purposely avoided settling down, insisting that he never intended to marry. Why, then, would he propose to Mary?
“There must be more to this,” Duncan murmured, more to himself than to Julius. A terrible thought occurred to Duncan. Perhaps it was Theodore who was behind the murders.
Chapter 25
Mary stood in front of her mirror as Susan helped her dress for the ball. She had selected a deep purple gown that complimented her pale skin nicely.
Nevertheless, she could not help continuing to feel self-conscious about her leg. Despite the fact that she was, indeed, quite pretty, she believed that her lame leg canceled out her physical beauty. She sighed softly, still wishing she had not let Beatrice coax her into attending tonight’s ball.
Beatrice spoke suddenly, as though she had read Mary’s mind.
“You will not regret coming to the ball tonight,” she said, her eyes bright.
Mary looked at Beatrice’s reflection, eyebrows raised. As you say, Mary thought dryly. Looking at her friend’s excited face, however, she softened. She knew how much it meant to Beatrice for her to attend the ball with her.
And, perhaps, it would do her some good to stop hiding away from the house. Unless, of course, she was to find herself alone with Duncan.
Mary’s stomach fluttered at the thought. She was not ready for a confrontation with Duncan. The letters he had sent her, though she had saved them all, remained unopened. Not out of spite, but simply because he was likely asking for an explanation that Mary was not yet ready to give.
However, she also could not deny the part of her that fervently hoped that Duncan would, indeed, be at the ball. She cursed her mixed feelings as she met her friend’s gaze in the mirror.
“Perhaps you are right,” Mary said. “Besides, how I could I say no to you?”
“Exactly,” Beatrice said, clapping her hands together in delight. Her friend’s enthusiasm was infectious, and Mary smiled despite herself.
***
Mary began scanning the ballroom the instant she and Beatrice arrived. It was especially crowded because this was the last ball of the Season. Besides her cheerful insistence that Mary attend with her, Beatrice had mentioned meeting with Mr. Langdon again. Mary was quite anxious to see how Mr. Langdon had recovered after his injuries in the fire.
Mr. Langdon spotted the two women at once. He glided his way gracefully through the clusters of laughing, dancing people. He bowed politely to them.
“Good evening, Lady Linden,” he said warmly.
“Good evening, Mr. Langdon,” Mary replied with a smile. “You are looking well.”
“I feel quite well,” Mr. Langdon said in a cheery voice. “Lord Tornight took excellent care of me.”
Mary smiled sadly at the mention of Duncan’s name. She missed him terribly. In her heart, however, she knew she had done the right thing by breaking her engagement to Duncan and putting him out of harm’s way.
“And you look ravishing, Miss Beaumont,” Mr. Langdon said, turning to Beatrice and taking her hand. He bowed again and put Beatrice’s fingers to his lips, giving them a gentle kiss. Beatrice blushed.
“How kind of you, Mr. Langdon,” Beatrice said.
“Let us get a drink, shall we?” Mr. Langdon said. He led the women to one of the trays of champagne. He handed each of the women a flute before taking one for himself. Then, they made their way to the balcony, where there were a couple of stone benches.
Mr. Langdon gestured for the women to sit. Then, he joined them on the long bench, opting to sit beside Beatrice. Mary smiled softly, again saddened by thoughts of Duncan. She looked into the crowd again, still hoping to spot him, but he was nowhere to be seen.
“How have you ladies faired since we last spoke?” the investigator asked.
Mary let out an inaudible sigh of relief, grateful that Mr. Langdon had not mentioned her episode that day. However, she said nothing. She did not wish to discuss Duncan or any of the events that had occurred after the fire.
Beatrice spoke quickly so that Mr. Langdon would not notice Mary’s silence. She had told Beatrice about the letter, and about breaking off her engagement, but she was not yet ready to mention it to the investigator.
“I admit, I did not do much resting,” Beatrice admitted.
“You should have,” Mr. Langdon gently admonished. “That was quite a traumatic experience.”
“Oh, but I only had the most minor of burns,” Beatrice reassured him. “In fact, it has already healed, and it did not leave but the smallest of scars.” Beatrice shuddered. “But it was a terrible thing, you are correct about that. I still see the flames whenever I close my eyes.”
Mary put her hand on Beatrice’s arm. She understood that feeling too well. Beatrice looked at her and smiled. Then, she turned back to Mr. Langdon.
“I have gone over the details of that day repeatedly. I just do not see how it is possible that the fire was an accident.”
The investigator frowned thoughtfully.
“Yes, I must say that the whole affair aroused my suspicions, as well,” he said.
“But who could have been the target?” Mary asked.
Mr. Langdon thought for a moment, then shook his head.
“That seems to be another mystery,” he said. “But whoever did it must be a careless soul. Certainly, more people than just the intended target would have died, had we not been able to act as quickly as we did.”
Mary and Beatrice nodded in agreement. Mary shuddered to think about how gru
esome the sight might have been.
“But let us not think about such terrible things now,” Mr. Langdon said, his bright smile returning. “Let us enjoy the dance, and the wonderful company of each other.”
“Yes, let’s,” Beatrice said, raising her champagne and taking a small sip.
As Beatrice and the investigator engaged in a lively conversation about the success of this year’s Season, Mary turned her attention back to the crowd. She had begun to doubt that Duncan would be in attendance, but she could not let go of her fear, or her hope, that he would.